A Will to Survive by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

and ripped clothing. “What happened to you two?”
    Frank told her about the trap that had almost caught him and Joe.
    â€œI know that path!” Callie exclaimed. “It’s scary enough without any pits dug in it. We’d better let Tanya know about this right away.”
    The three went down the corridor to Tanya’s office. Frank had the impression that a door farther along closed quickly as they came into view.
    When the Hardys told Tanya what had happened, she was horrified. “This has gone far enough,” she announced. “I cannot have you put yourselves in such danger. You must drop the investigation at once.”
    â€œThat’s doing exactly what the bad guy wants us to do,” Joe protested.
    â€œSo be it,” Tanya replied. “I can’t bear to be responsible for anything that might happen to you.”
    â€œYou won’t be,” Joe pointed out. “If something happens to us, the one who’s responsible is the one who made it happen.”
    â€œAnyway,” Frank added, “we hope to catch him before he can do anything more. You heard that phone call. Did anything about it strike you?”
    â€œNo, nothing in particular,” she said, after a moment’s thought.
    Joe pointed to the Caller ID unit on Tanya’s desk. “You didn’t notice the number the call came from, did you?”
    She shook her head. “I’m sorry. We installed that very recently. I’m not yet accustomed to checking it.”
    Her eyes widened. “You know, the person who came to install it said something about a record of incoming calls. Do you suppose . . . ?”
    It took Tanya five minutes to locate the manual for the unit. It took her, plus Joe, Frank, and Callie, another ten minutes to figure out how to access the unit’s memory function. Finally they pushed the correct sequence of keys and read off the number.
    â€œBut . . .” Tanya said. “I don’t understand.That isn’t an outside number. It’s a secondary line we have here at the center. It serves the garage and the maintenance building.”
    â€œYou mean anyone can just walk into the garage and make a call?” Callie asked.
    â€œOh, no,” Tanya replied. “Those areas are far too open. You have to use a code to call out from those phones. Oh—I see,” she added, in a changed voice.
    â€œWho knows the code?” Frank asked.
    â€œI do,” Tanya said. “At least, I have it written down somewhere. And Bruce. And of course Carl. That’s the line he uses most often, since it serves his shop.”
    â€œIt’s too obvious,” Callie murmured. “I think he’s being framed.”
    â€œMaybe,” Frank replied. He asked Tanya, “Does Carl know about this Caller ID unit? Would he realize that the number could be traced?”
    Tanya shrugged. “I doubt it. He is—how shall I put it?—not very comfortable with electronic equipment.”
    Joe and Frank exchanged a glance filled with meaning.
    â€œI think we’d better take a look around Carl’s workshop,” Frank said. “Do you know if he’s still there?”
    Tanya glanced at her desk clock. “He is supposed to be finished for the day. However, he mentioned to me that he had some work to finish in the nursery.”
    She rummaged through one of her desk drawers. “Here are the keys to the workshop,” she said,handing them to Frank. “I hope you find that your suspicions are misplaced. Callie, would you mind staying a moment? I need to talk to you.”
    Joe and Frank left the building and walked across the staff parking lot. Carl’s workshop was a rather plain one-story brick building on the far side of the garage and stable complex. A line of evergreens hid it from the main house. Frank found the right key and unlocked the door.
    As he stepped inside, Joe smelled a blend of machine oil,