"You could have done this Monday," complained blond-headed, blue-eyed, six foot, seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy to his brother who was a year older and an inch taller.

"Well, I'm not," brown-headed, brown-eyed, Frank responded. "So you're just going to have to be patient for a few minutes."

Frank parked the van across the street from the First National Bank and both boys got out. "The matinee starts in fifteen minutes," Joe said, crossing the street with Frank and going inside.

"We'll make it," Frank snapped. He was getting tired of Joe's complaints. Joe had been the one to forget to make the deposit yesterday so if Frank wanted to do it today, Joe had no one to blame but himself. Just once, Frank wished Joe would do what he was told. His brother's mulish independence was really starting to annoy him.

Frank paused and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, it won't take long," he told Joe. "Just have a seat over there and I'll be done in five minutes." Frank pointed Joe in the direction of some chairs then walked up to the teller's window to make his deposit.

"Hi," Joe said, sitting down beside a man in his thirties. The man looked a little nervous. Joe looked at the man closely and noticed red freckles on his arms and face which contrasted with the black dye job on his hair. He kept swallowing as though his throat were extremely dry and his brown eyes kept darting to the video cameras along the top of the wall which monitored the bank and then back to his watch.

"What time is it?" Joe asked, when the man looked at his watch for the sixth time in a minute.

"What?" the man asked, startled.

"What time is it?" Joe asked, repeating his question.

The man looked at Joe for the first time. He noticed how closely Joe was watching him. "Uh, it's eight minutes to three," he answered.

"I must be slow," Joe said with a frown, looking at his watch. "I've got ten till." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, three armed men came striding into the bank.

"Back away from the alarms boys and girls," the heaviest of the trio ordered. "If the police arrive, we start killing."

Joe looked at the three men. All were wearing Halloween masks and had on black jeans, blue sneakers, black sweaters and gloves. Without thinking, Joe looked down at the feet of the man beside him. He saw blue sneakers. He let his eyes travel upwards. The man was also wearing black jeans. By the time Joe's eyes returned to the man's chest, a gun was pointed at him.

"Do what you're told and no one gets hurt," said the same robber who had spoken before. "Everybody move over to the safety deposit area."

Joe started to move but the man clamped a hand on Joe's arm. "Not you," he said. Joe swallowed as he realized it hadn't been nerves causing this man to attract his attention, but excitement!

Frank was with the other patrons and bank employees being herded into a back room. He noticed Joe was missing and looked over to where he had last seen him.

'Great!' Frank thought. 'The one time Joe does do what I tell him and he winds up beside a bank robber.'

"Wait!" Frank shouted as they were about to be shut inside. "My brother's still out there."

"Don't worry," Frank was told. "We're taking him for a little ride." Then the heavy metal door was slammed shut. Frank felt sick as he heard the lock click on.

Frank felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around. Andrew Carruthers, the bank's president, was standing there. "The monitors for the cameras have a receiving station at our security firm," he told Frank, recognizing him. Frank and Joe had proven themselves as detectives and were locally as well known as their father, Fenton Hardy, a former New York City police officer, who had resigned to become a private investigator.

"But will they arrive in time to help Joe?" Frank asked with worry.

By this time, Joe was wondering the same thing. After the others had been secured, Joe had been forced to sit on the floor and been handcuffed to a table leg.

The robbers were meticulous. They began at one end and cleared out each drawer. Then, the one whom Joe had been sitting with sat down at a computer. He, too, now wore gloves, and worked for a few minutes.

This was apparently the last thing they had planned for then they came to Joe. He was released until he was standing and then handcuffed with his hands behind his back.

Opening the bank door, they walked out and right to a van which had pulled up as soon as the door had been opened.

The freckled man with the dye job climbed into the front while Joe was pushed into the rear, followed by the three remaining robbers.

"You can let me out anywhere," Joe said as all five men, counting the van's driver, remained silent.

The heavyset robber backhanded Joe and then pulled off his mask. The other two also removed their masks. Joe felt a trickle of blood roll down his chin as the man who hit him turned to the front of the van.

"Why did we bring this kid?" he asked the man Joe had decided to call Freckles.

"He got too good a look at me," Freckles replied.

"So did the cameras," Joe said, earning him another slap on the face.

"But the cameras have been erased," Freckles told Joe with a smile.

"That's what you were doing at the computer terminal," Joe guessed out loud. He was about to be hit again but Freckles grabbed hold of the other man's hand when he raised it.

"No, Freddie," Freckles said with an evil smile. "Don't waste your energy. This young man won't be around long enough to cause any problems. What's the harm in a question or two?"

"Why did you only take the money in the drawers?" Joe asked. "They don't really keep much there."

"The money was not our goal," Freckles replied, looking at Joe with interest. "You are quick to have noticed so much," he added.

"Not quick enough," Joe muttered but was overheard.

"Really, you can't deride yourself for not noticing sooner. You were scarcely there for five minutes," Freckles sardonically consoled Joe.

"And your watch was fast," Joe retorted.

Freckles face hardened. "You are very clever," he said. "How did you guess?"

"You were acting like someone was late," Joe said, looking him in the eyes. "And then these bozos show up just as soon as my watch flips to ten minutes till."

"This chat has been amusing," Freckles said as the driver brought the van to a stop. "But I am afraid you are out of time."

Freckles climbed out of the van and walked over to the edge of the cliff on which they were parked and looked down. "Bring him," he ordered Freddie, who sat with the rear of the van open.

Freddie grabbed Joe's arm and pulled while one of the others pushed Joe from behind. Soon, he was out of the van and being forced toward the edge.

Freckles looked at Joe in amusement. "Any last words?"

"You won't get away with this," was all Joe could think to say. As everyone laughed, Freddie gave Joe a hard push.