CHAPTER I

A Shocking Announcement

The Bayport High marching band rocked back and forth in unison as the student body roared, shaking the rafters of the school gymnasium. Amiable Chet Morton, sweating profusely in his band attire, blew into his tuba so hard his rosy cheeks puffed out larger than usual.

Members of Bayport High's football team entered the stadium to much applause and fanfare. Across from the band, cheerleaders jumped and flipped. Among them was Chet's sister, Iola Morton.

"H-A-R-D-Y! What does that spell?!"

Joe Hardy, 17, wearing his jersey over his school attire, grinned as he passed Iola. He was flanked by his older brother, Frank, who wore number 12 and was that year's standout quarterback. Joe was having a modestly successful year as a wide receiver.

"Let's go, Frank!" another cheerleader exclaimed at the top of a pyramid formation. Frank waved up at Callie Shaw, his favorite date, just before the base holding her up let her freefall into their arms. The student body whistled and stomped their feet.

After all recited the Pledge of Allegiance, the players took their seats on chairs set out on the gymnasium floor. It was Friday afternoon, the start of the school pep rally ahead of the highly anticipated game against the Hixon Eagles. In just a few hours, the Hardys and their chums would be suiting up at Cloverleaf Field.

The student body was then treated to a skit featuring lanky Biff Hooper in a turkey costume chasing Tony Prito in a crude outfit of an eagle, the Hixon mascot. Then Jerry Gilroy, in the Bayport mascot of a Mariner, swooped in to subdue both boys. The crowd laughed and cheered.

A whoop followed as Coach Crichton approached the microphone set up at center court. Coach was well regarded for his stirring speeches that motivated not only the players but also the entire Bayport High community.

But now Coach Crichton's face was grim. He motioned for quiet. He paused.

I'd hate to be the bearer of bad news," Coach began. "But tonight's game against Hixon has been postponed."

A collective groan swept through the crowd.

"I will now turn it over to Principal McClellan for further word."

From their chairs, Joe and Frank exchanged uneasy glances.

"Good afternoon," began the high school principal. "I have just received world that a tragic accident has befallen our country's president. Evidently, our Commander-in-Chief was fatally shot during his trip in Texas less than one hour ago."

The students gasped. Utter silence filled the gymnasium.

"I conferred with Principal Calhoun at Hixon and we both agreed to halt the game out of respect for the president's family and children. Let us all now stand for a moment of silent prayer."

As the students bowed their heads, Joe quietly walked over to Frank.

Principal McClellan continued, "We will now proceed to the outdoor flagpole in silence to lower our country's flag to half-mast."

As the principal and Coach Crichton led the players and the rest of the students out of the gymnasium, Joe grabbed Frank's arm.

"Frank," he whispered urgently. "Dad is in Texas right now!"

Frank nodded. "All he said was that he was tracking the president's itinerary. Let's go ask Principal McClellan where the accident happened?"

Frank and Joe hastened to the front of the silent procession.

"Isn't it just awful, boys?" he asked the Hardys.

"Do you know where in Texas, sir?" Joe pressed.

"I believe it was in Dallas, Joe. Along the downtown parade route."

"Our dad is there," Frank offered. "I wonder if there was a known threat."

"I'm going to release everyone in a moment. Best you get home and try to reach your father," the principal advised.

"If it's all the same, we'll stay for the flag ceremony," Frank replied.

Principal McClellan nodded and smiled weakly.

Out of respect, the Hardy and their chums decided against stopping by the automat for pie and cream soda, their usual Friday afternoon ritual. Rather, all rushed to their respective homes.

Mrs. Hardy greeted her songs with hugs at the door of their rambling home on the corner of High and Elm in Bayport, located three miles from Barmet Bay, population of about 50,000. Like their father, the boys had a knack for solving mysteries. In their previous adventure, recounted in The Secret of Wildcat Swamp, the boys aided Bayport High science teacher Cap Bailey in tracking down ex-cons in the Southwest.

"Any word from Dad, Mother?" Joe asked anxiously.

"A message just printed from the telex," Mrs. Hardy answered. She handed a quarter-sheet of typed text to the boys. Joe began to read the message aloud.

"Wait a minute," Frank interrupted. He turned the radio up unusually loud. Joe nodded, putting his finger to his lips. The boys peered down at the terse message:

In Dal., TX. Pres. shot. LHO patsy. Blind eye/ear to News, FBI, WH, SS, PD. Relocate to SH. Stay strong and safe. Dad/FH.

Joe whistled in a low tone. "Lots of code. What does all this mean?"

For the next several minutes, the boys worked in silence, compiling the list of abbreviations. They believed "FBI" to be, of course, "Federal Bureau of Investigation." Beside "WH" they jotted "White House," aside "SS" they added "Secret Service," and next to "PD" they wrote, "Police Department."

"Is Dad suggesting turn a blind eye and ear to all of these?" Frank asked.

"But whatever for?" Mrs. Hardy wondered aloud.

Just then the news anchor's voice boomed from the radio. "Update from our man on the ground: Dallas police have apprehended a suspect who was eluding police in the Texas Theater, a movie house in the Oak Cliff section of Dallas."

Mrs. Hardy instinctively turned up the radio volume even more.

"The suspect's name is one Lee Harvey Oswald, white, male, 24, former Marine, and onetime defector to the USSR. That is all the information we have. Mr. Oswald, however, was evidently denying any wrongdoing as we was taken in custody."

The anchor shifted to reports of the status of the wounded Texas governor.

Frank snapped his fingers. He circled "LHO." Joe tapped the word "patsy" with his finger. Frank nodded gravely before writing next to "News" the phrase "News Media."

All three were quiet for a moment.

"But what about 'SH'?" Joe asked.

Mrs. Hardy took the pencil from Frank and wrote next to the letters "Safe House." The boys stared at their mother, stunned.

"Pack your 'fight or flight bags,' boys," she said. "We leave in five minutes."