If not for the attempted murder, the summer day would have been perfect. Frank and Joe Hardy were working in the front yard of their home in Bayport, enjoying the first day of summer holiday. Both were cheerily pulling weeds and discussing their summer plans.

Frank, smudged with dirt, pushed his dark hair from off his forehead. "Joe, did Chet say when he was coming over?"

Joe shrugged. "He said he had a surprise, but that was all. I hope it's not a new sandwich flavor. The last one was not pleasant."

Frank laughed. "You didn't care for bananas and mustard?"

Joe feigned retching, "Jeez, that kid…" Joe turned back to the rose bushes.

Both boys were in their teens- fit and tall. They were in their work clothes, which consisted jeans and tee shirts. Frank had dark hair and a stockier frame. Joe had blond hair and was as skinny as a rail. The sun was hot, but the wind was cool, and their mother promised lemonade when she was done rehanging the curtains. The gramophone was playing from inside the house, some crooning song chosen by their mother.

The idyllic peace of the day was torn by gunshot, and a shout of pain.

Both boys ducked down immediately. Joe's eyes were wide. "That was Dad!"

Not checking if it was safe, they tore into the house through the front door. Their mother, pretty and prim in her work apron, had her mouth over her mouth and was rushing down the hall towards Fenton Hardy's office.

The door was open, as were all the windows- generating a cool breeze through the house. Frank's heart dropped like a stone as he saw his father groaning on the floor.

"Fenton!" Their mother screamed. She dropped to her knees next to him. He was bleeding profusely from his shoulder. Frank also dropped next to him, pulling a bandana from his pocket to stop the bleeding.

Joe looked out the window, but he could see no one in the cluster of trees behind their house. He turned to his mother. "They might still be out there!"

Her pale face was alert, though plainly terrified. "Don't you dare go out there, Joseph Hardy."

Joe knew better than to argue. She moved her hands over the bandana. "Joe, call Dr. Merrill, then the police. Frank, go fetch clean towels from the linen closet."

Both boys immediately did as asked. Dr. Merrill, long time family doctor for the Hardys, agreed to come over immediately. The police too, were on their way. When Joe got back Frank had replaced the old bandana with a clean towel.

Fenton was staring up at the ceiling, his face twisted in pain. He was fully conscious, but clearly unhappy about it.

Frank asked in a low tone, "Dad, do you know who did this?"

Fenton gritted his teeth. "I have an idea."

"Who? Is it a case you're working on?" Joe asked eagerly.

Mrs. Hardy silenced him with a glare. "Not the time, Joe."

Indeed, Fenton Hardy was a detective, and quite a good one at that. He was well acquainted with danger, and this wasn't even the first time he had been shot. It was, however, the first time he had been shot through the window of his own office, in his own home.

Mrs. Hardy was not happy.

"What did you say to the doctor, Joe?"

"I just said that Dad had been shot, and that he should come over, right away."

"And the police?"

Same thing, except I mentioned that the shot seemed to come from Bluff Woods. They said they'd sent some men out there to see what they could find."

Mrs. Hardy nodded grimly. "Good." She addressed her husband. "Stay awake, Fenton. You're going to be just fine."

Frank agreed. "It's just a flesh wound, Pops."

Fenton let out as gasping chuckle. "Oh, I know. My flesh is complaining quite vigorously."

He took a shuddering breath. "This was a warning. I'm so sorry Laura. I didn't expect them to catch on to my investigations quite so quickly, or so," he grimaced, "violently."

Joe was tapping his fingers on his leg impatiently. Frank saw it was morse code- S.O.S…S.O.S…

Joe likely wasn't conscious of what he was doing. He asked his father again, "Who is them, Dad?"

Frank wasn't quite so jumpy or aggressive, but his dark eyes were scanning his father's eyes, clearly asking the same question, just more subtly.

"Boys, that's exactly what they don't want me saying."

Fenton paused, and took a deep breath. "This is a good sign. It means I'm getting close."

He was spared from any further badgering by the arrival of the doctor, who hadn't bothered to knock.

He was a rotund man with a genial nature and years of experience. "Goodness, Fenton, what have you done this time?" The doctor quickly and capably got to work, inspecting the wound, and directing the boys to move their father to his own bed. Laura supplied the doctor with clean, warm water, and the simple operation of removing the bullet began. Laura sent the boys out of the room and they were free to begin their speculation.

They made their way to the front porch, awaiting the arrival of the police- whose station was much farther away than the doctor's home.

Frank sat on the porch steps while Joe paced the grass in front of it.

Joe started to speak. "What do we know about the case Dad's been working on? He said this shooting was related."

Frank started the list. "One, It's a murder case. He doesn't talk to us about those, and he's been on edge all week."

Joe continued. "The murderer knows Dad's onto him, and he knows where we live."

Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Dad said it was a warning. He seemed sure of it. So the shooter missed on purpose? If he was in those trees, and Dad was at his desk, he should have had a pretty clear shot."

Joe sat down hard on the step next to Frank. Frank and Joe had just finished their Junior and Sophomore years, respectively, at Bayport High School. They were acquainted with the crimes their father dealt with everyday, and they themselves had even solved some local capers regarding petty vandalism and theft. They were not completely ignorant to the jaded world of criminals. But never before had they fully understood the danger that accompanies excitement or the fear that must reign before the dawn of triumph.

Their Father had a brush with death, and it had been far too close for comfort