The Flickering Torch Mystery (Hardy Boys, Book 22)
Franklin W. Dixon
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Two unexplainable plane crashes near an airport on the East Coast plunge Frank and Joe Hardy into a bizarre case. From the moment Frank and Joe find a radioactive engine in an airplane junkyard, unexpected dangers strike like lightning. Despite the repeated attempts on their lives, the teenage detectives pursue their investigation, discovering two vital clues and others that provide the solution to one of the most baffling mysteries the boys and Mr. Hardy have ever encountered.
at the Hardy home. Frank phoned Chet to come over. Mrs. Hardy served refreshments in the living room. Frank and Tony occupied the sofa. Joe and Biff took the easy chairs. Chet sprawled on the floor, propping himself on one elbow. He had a tall glass of milk and a big plateful of crackers within easy reach. “How about giving out with some info,” Chet said, downing a long gulp. The others described their adventures at Marlin Crag. Chet whistled softly under his breath. “Wow! You’re lucky to be
in some light chitchat about music, then Frank asked if the drummer knew a Beemerville man named Mudd. “Can’t help you,” Bernie replied. “Never heard of him. Should I?” “Not unless you go in for used airplane parts,” Joe replied. Bernie laughed. “They’re not my line.” “Is anyone in your group interested in that sort of thing?” Frank asked. “Not that I know of.” Finally the band quit for the night. The lights of the Flickering Torch were dimmed and the patrons filed out into the night air.
meet you.” “I’m not sure we should,” Frank said. He glanced about for any sign of Nettleton or Zinn. “You’ve got to be kind to your public,” Seymour insisted. “That’s part of being in show biz.” Unable to come up with a plausible refusal, Frank led the way down to the dance floor where a crowd was milling around. Each member of the band was promptly buttonholed by a music fan. An effusive blond teen-ager engaged Frank in conversation. “I think your combo is too sweet for words,” she cooed.
to the pavement. He tested the stability of the ladder before gingerly placing his feet on one rung. Letting go of the parapet, he climbed down. The window was slightly open at the top, but Joe could not see through the crack. Quickly he pulled out his pocketknife and scraped away enough paint for a view inside. Then he put one eye on the glass. On the warehouse floor sat an enormous boxlike container! Joe could see enough of the interior to make out scientific instruments ranged along one
concluded. “Exactly. Ask questions. Talk to the manager and find out if anyone knows any details about the crashes. You can fly up in our plane.” “It would be easier to go by car,” Joe said. “I know. But with the plane you can take the same approach as those pilots did and perhaps learn something as to why they crashed.” Mr. Hardy showed his sons a piece of paper with the flight route of the two planes. “Now all we need to start out are the aircraft and engine numbers,” Frank said. “I’ve