03-Cult of Crime by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Cults, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Religion
ISBN: 9780006934097
Google: 8CexGudu6NUC
Publisher: Armada
Published: 1987-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

IT WAS TOO late for Frank or Joe to move. The Jeep smashed head-on into the wall.

To their surprise, it kept moving. The wall had come down, and it was flapping on the front end of the Jeep.

Rosie chuckled. They had run through a canvas sheet that had covered the mouth of the cave. "I've had that up for years, to keep people from seeing where I live. From the outside, it looks just like a moss-covered rock." He laughed again. "Riding through it gets them every time."

"Them?" Joe said. "You've done this before?"

"Back during the Vietnam War, I'd drive draft dodgers to the Canadian border," Rosie replied. He stared wistfully at the sky. "We'd go all the way to the Saint Lawrence on back roads and off roads. A guy ran a speedboat out of Morristown into Canada. I wonder what ever happened to him. Those sure were the days."

He reached out the driver's window, grabbed the canvas, and pulled it back over the hood until it was all inside the car. The Jeep whipped between and around trees as if it were a dirt bike. It bounced over rocks and ditches. It was evident that nothing fazed Rosie, and he would stop for nothing. .

"So what's your story?" Rosie asked. "Run a stoplight in Keller's county?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," Joe said. "We rescued Holly from a commune this evening."

Rosie cocked an eyebrow, and his face filled with a new respect for the Hardy boys. "The Rajah's spread, huh? Mean guys up there. They took some shots at me once just for hunting within a hundred feet of the place." He leaned over to Joe and winked. "I had to crack a few skulls over that one."

Then he straightened up, tilting his head back to talk to Frank and Holly. "How'd you get hooked up with that mob, missy?"

"You're mistaken," Holly said. She suddenly sounded cross. "The Rajah doesn't believe in guns. He'd throw anyone using them out of the commune. " "Wise up, Holly," Joe said in disgust. "Those guys took shots at me, and someone killed Vivasvat. They didn't do that with prayer."

"Joe," warned Frank.

"Get real, Frank," Joe shot back. "She sounds like she still believes in that creep."

"I don't!" she insisted. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I just want to go home! I just want to go home. . . ."

She buried her face in Frank's shoulder and sobbed. He slipped a comforting arm around her; softly smoothing her hair.

"Look what you've done," he scolded Joe. "Hasn't she been through enough?"

Joe scowled, but Rosie just grinned. If he had heard the conversation, he showed no sign of it.

Steering the Jeep through the trees, he was lost in the fantasy world of his memories, dreaming of a life that had vanished more than a decade before.

"Thanks for getting us out of there, Rosie," Frank finally said. "I'm sorry you’ll get into trouble for it."

"What?" Rosie drifted out of the daydream. "Oh, don't you worry about that.

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