Hide-and-Sneak by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

by the blade again, Joe and Frank wormed their way over to their friend.
    â€œHow are your hands?” Frank asked.
    â€œI stopped feeling them about halfway over here,” Joe answered.
    â€œHe really went to town on mine,” Frank told Joe. “How about you, Chet?”
    â€œPins and needles, but I can still move them. Ha! Got it!” Chet twisted around. “Now what do I do with it?”
    â€œWe move back to back, and then you try to cut me loose,” Frank replied.
    Joe had often tried to cut somebody’s ropes withhis own hands tied behind his back. It was difficult enough with practice, but this was Chet’s first time. “Just try not to cut Frank,” Joe said, trying to help.
    â€œYeah,” Chet said, trying to look over his shoulder.
    With a lot of contortions, a few yells, and a brief delay when he lost the knife, Chet worked and worked. Finally, with a triumphant cry, Frank tore his hands free.
    He winced as he rubbed some life into his blood-starved hands. Then he leaned over, took the knife, and cut the ropes around his ankles. Frank then turned to Joe.
    â€œHey!” Chet exclaimed.
    â€œHis hands are almost as bad as mine,” Frank said, cutting the bonds on Joe’s wrists. He turned to Chet and cut him loose before cutting Joe’s ankle ropes.
    Hal Preston twisted around on the ground, looking up at Frank. “How about me?”
    â€œI’m tempted to leave you here with your snoozing buddy,” Frank said.
    At that moment Andy gave a low groan. “Wha—”
    Frowning, Frank cut the foot restraints on both of them. “I’m leaving your hands tied for now, but come with us,” he said.
    The boys rushed down the stairs to the docks,although they knew there was no hope of catching Buckmaster. While Chet had been getting the knife positioned on Frank’s ropes, the sound of an engine had come up from the bay.
    Still, they had to try.
    â€œOh, man,” Andy moaned before they were even on the last flight of steps. “My dad’s going to kill me.”
    Frank could easily see why. The fishing trawler lay deep in the water—too deep. Its deck sloped down until it was about a quarter submerged, and they could see way too much of the rounded keel. “Must have knocked out the bilge plug,” Frank said.
    The Sleuth hadn’t been sunk, but it had been cut loose. It was drifting away from the dock, following the tide out to sea.
    The jet boat was gone.
    Frank made a quick decision, cutting Andy’s and Hal’s hands free. “Get on your boat and see if the radio is working.” He shook his head. “What a time not to bring my cell phone.”
    Joe ran down the dock and jumped into the water. “I’ll try to catch the Sleuth !” he said.
    Andy and Hal made their way along the deck of their listing boat and climbed into the cabin. A moment later Andy’s head reappeared. “Radio’s busted.” He shook his head. “And waterlogged.”
    Frank watched his brother as he cut through the water after the drifting boat. “Then it’s up to Joe,” he said.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Joe Hardy climbed aboard the Sleuth and shook his dripping hair out of his face. Leaving a trail of water, he dashed over to the controls.
    The front of the radio was smashed, and the microphone was gone. Whatever had been used to break up the radio had also been used to ruin the ignition.
    â€œGreat,” Joe said through gritted teeth. “So it’s either ‘Good-bye, Sleuth, ’ and I swim back and let her drift, or—”
    He stopped to examine the wreckage of the ignition, then traced some wires under the control panel.
    This isn’t the best thing to do when you’re soaking wet, he thought. He took a quick look around and found a towel to dry his hands. Then he got some insulated tools and got to work on the wiring. It took some time