Speed Times Five by Franklin W. Dixon

came.”
    â€œHop on,” Frank said. “The train’s leaving.”
    He and Joe darted into the nearest train car just as the doors slid closed. A look into the only car behind them indicated the hooded man must be farther forward.
    The Hardys ducked through the compartment’s front door as the train pulled out of the station. They moved from compartment to compartment as the train zipped through the Montreal underground. A few people sat quietly in some of the cars, but the brothers saw no sign of the hooded man. At each stop, the Hardys checked to make sure their quarry didn’t get off. Then they resumed the search.
    â€œHe must be moving forward, same as we are,” Frank said.
    â€œWell, he’s going to run out of cars soon,” Joe replied.
    Frank’s hypothesis proved correct. As theyentered the second car from the engine, they saw their target in the frontmost car. The man stood by the farthest exit door, still talking on his phone.
    â€œWe’ve got him now,” Joe said as they ran through the intervening car. They opened the last door just as the train pulled into a new station. As the metro slowed to a stop, the hooded man exited to the platform, pushing past several men boarding the train.
    â€œC’mon,” Joe said, sprinting for the exit. But as he did, two of the new passengers stepped in front of the door.
    â€œWhere do you think you’re going?” one of the men growled.

11 Metro Mania
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    The men barring the brothers’ way were large, as large as the biggest member of Kelly Hawk’s crew. They were dressed in jeans and sweatshirts with the hoods pulled up over their heads. The Hardys could see the men’s faces, and though they looked vaguely familiar, neither brother could place them.
    â€œWe’re getting off the train,” Frank said.
    â€œNot at this station,” the man in the powder blue sweatshirt said. “Not the way me and Pierre see it. Right, Pierre?”
    Pierre, wearing a black sweatshirt, nodded. “Right, Jacques,” he said.
    Frank tried to push past the men, but Jacques put out one beefy arm and stopped him. “You don’t wanna do that,” Jacques said.
    â€œWhy not just wait,” Pierre suggested. “Get off at the next station—no hard feelings.”
    â€œThe only hard feeling you’ll get is my fist on your nose if you don’t move,” Joe said.
    Pierre and Jacques glanced at each other. “You mean, like this?” Pierre said, swinging for Joe’s head.
    Joe ducked out of the way and slammed his fist into Pierre’s abs. The big man grunted but didn’t move. He smiled at Joe as the younger Hardy shook his fist. “The guy’s made of rocks!” Joe said.
    But Frank wasn’t listening. He was too busy trying to avoid Jacques, who had lowered his head and charged the older Hardy. Frank tried to step aside, but Jacques wrapped his arms around Frank’s waist and carried him backward.
    As the doors to the car slid closed, the only other passenger slipped back out onto the platform, leaving the Hardys alone with the thugs.
    Pierre threw another punch at Joe, but the younger Hardy danced back. Frank brought his knee up into Jacques’s stomach as the two of them hit the floor. The air rushed out of Jacques’s lungs and Frank rolled away from him.
    The elder Hardy regained his feet and aimed a martial arts kick at Jacques’s head. Jacques brought up his arm and partially blocked the blow. He staggered back, his face glowing red with anger. “Now you have made me angry!” he said.
    Frank and Joe took up defensive positions in the middle of the car, standing next to each other.Jacques charged again, with Pierre coming in behind him.
    The brothers parted in the middle as the big men bore in. Frank stepped aside and threw a spin kick at the back of Jacques’s head. Joe ducked under another punch and slammed his foot into