their business, leaving the drenched youngsters alone in the driveway near the shattered tower.
“Why didn’t you want to go in right away, Frank?” Iola asked, shivering.
“I need to check something first,” Frank replied.
“Yeah, me too,” Joe agreed.
The brothers examined the fallen tower’s base.
“This pylon didn’t just snap,” Frank said, running his fingers over the wood. “It was cut!” He pointed to the clean break in one of the four wooden support legs and some sawdust resting on the wet snow beneath it.
“Hey, Frank,” Joe said, “what do you make of this?” He was looking at some depressions in the snow nearby. The indentations led from the rear of the tower toward the side of the barn.
“Those look like they might be footprints,” Chet blurted.
Frank’s brown eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Filled in by blowing snow. Let’s follow them.”
“D-do you mind if I g-go inside?” Iola asked, her teeth chattering. “You can tell me what you find.”
“Of course,” Joe replied. “Don’t freeze on account of us.” Iola went back inside the house while the three boys trudged around to the rear of the barn, following the tracks.
“Well, this confirms it,” Frank said, pointing to a longer, wider depression behind the barn. The rut led away from the back of the building toward the woods on the north.
Joe nodded. “The snowmobile gang again.”
“They’re approaching the property from the north, being sure to keep the barn between themselves and the house—and in doing this, they’re blocking our view of them.”
“I’ll say one thing for these bandits,” Chet said, “they’re bold.”
“And dangerous,” Joe added. “Someone could have gotten killed, either in the fire they set or during this water tower collapse.”
“But what are they after?” Chet asked.
Frank shook his head. “Not sure. I’m working on it. We need to report this to the police, though.”
“Assuming the phones are working again,” Joe said.
After changing out of their wet clothes, the teens tried the phones again when they got inside, but they were still out. As they tried to get in touch with the police, the Hardys filled the Mortons in on what they’d found.
“This place could really use that cell tower the mall people are promising,” Joe said. The brothers’ cell phone still wasn’t working either.
“No use worrying when there’s no way to change it,” Grandma said. “We’ve survived on our own before, and we will again.” She had been puttering around constantly since the teens came inside, bringing the boys soup and hot liquids, fetching blankets, and laying out their clothing to dry.
“I’ve got a shotgun stashed somewhere in theattic,” Grandpa said. “Maybe it’s time I fetched it out.”
“I suppose that couldn’t hurt,” Frank said.
“With Bernie kidnapped, the fire, and now this, there’s no telling what these criminals might try next,” Iola said.
“They’ve avoided direct confrontation so far,” Joe noted.
“Cowards as well as scoundrels,” Grandpa said. “A shotgun’s almost too good for them.”
“It’ll have to do until we can get in touch with the police,” Grandma said. “You go fetch it, Pa, but don’t load it. We don’t need any more accidents around here.”
Grandpa nodded his agreement and headed up to the attic.
“Surviving through this weather is tricky enough without saboteurs,” Joe said.
For a moment Grandma Morton’s brave face slipped. She sat down heavily in a rocking chair near the fire. A far-off, misty look came over her gray eyes. “It’s not like the old days,” she said. “That’s for sure.”
“It’ll be all right, Grandma,” Iola said, giving her a hug.
“Yeah,” Joe said, “there are plenty of us to help with the chores. I’m sure we’ll have everything shipshape in no time—even before the power comes back on.”
Grandma Morton sniffed back a tear. “I sure hope you’re right,” she
“Why didn’t you want to go in right away, Frank?” Iola asked, shivering.
“I need to check something first,” Frank replied.
“Yeah, me too,” Joe agreed.
The brothers examined the fallen tower’s base.
“This pylon didn’t just snap,” Frank said, running his fingers over the wood. “It was cut!” He pointed to the clean break in one of the four wooden support legs and some sawdust resting on the wet snow beneath it.
“Hey, Frank,” Joe said, “what do you make of this?” He was looking at some depressions in the snow nearby. The indentations led from the rear of the tower toward the side of the barn.
“Those look like they might be footprints,” Chet blurted.
Frank’s brown eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Filled in by blowing snow. Let’s follow them.”
“D-do you mind if I g-go inside?” Iola asked, her teeth chattering. “You can tell me what you find.”
“Of course,” Joe replied. “Don’t freeze on account of us.” Iola went back inside the house while the three boys trudged around to the rear of the barn, following the tracks.
“Well, this confirms it,” Frank said, pointing to a longer, wider depression behind the barn. The rut led away from the back of the building toward the woods on the north.
Joe nodded. “The snowmobile gang again.”
“They’re approaching the property from the north, being sure to keep the barn between themselves and the house—and in doing this, they’re blocking our view of them.”
“I’ll say one thing for these bandits,” Chet said, “they’re bold.”
“And dangerous,” Joe added. “Someone could have gotten killed, either in the fire they set or during this water tower collapse.”
“But what are they after?” Chet asked.
Frank shook his head. “Not sure. I’m working on it. We need to report this to the police, though.”
“Assuming the phones are working again,” Joe said.
After changing out of their wet clothes, the teens tried the phones again when they got inside, but they were still out. As they tried to get in touch with the police, the Hardys filled the Mortons in on what they’d found.
“This place could really use that cell tower the mall people are promising,” Joe said. The brothers’ cell phone still wasn’t working either.
“No use worrying when there’s no way to change it,” Grandma said. “We’ve survived on our own before, and we will again.” She had been puttering around constantly since the teens came inside, bringing the boys soup and hot liquids, fetching blankets, and laying out their clothing to dry.
“I’ve got a shotgun stashed somewhere in theattic,” Grandpa said. “Maybe it’s time I fetched it out.”
“I suppose that couldn’t hurt,” Frank said.
“With Bernie kidnapped, the fire, and now this, there’s no telling what these criminals might try next,” Iola said.
“They’ve avoided direct confrontation so far,” Joe noted.
“Cowards as well as scoundrels,” Grandpa said. “A shotgun’s almost too good for them.”
“It’ll have to do until we can get in touch with the police,” Grandma said. “You go fetch it, Pa, but don’t load it. We don’t need any more accidents around here.”
Grandpa nodded his agreement and headed up to the attic.
“Surviving through this weather is tricky enough without saboteurs,” Joe said.
For a moment Grandma Morton’s brave face slipped. She sat down heavily in a rocking chair near the fire. A far-off, misty look came over her gray eyes. “It’s not like the old days,” she said. “That’s for sure.”
“It’ll be all right, Grandma,” Iola said, giving her a hug.
“Yeah,” Joe said, “there are plenty of us to help with the chores. I’m sure we’ll have everything shipshape in no time—even before the power comes back on.”
Grandma Morton sniffed back a tear. “I sure hope you’re right,” she
Similar Books
