050 Power Play by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hbfiles
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Frank had made his way out of the hangar just as Joe dashed into the middle of the solar collectors. Then he heard the blast and spotted a column of black smoke curling skyward.

A figure ran out of the cluster of shiny, bowl-shaped objects—but it wasn’t Joe. Frank did get a good look at his face. It was Mike Barnes’s assistant, Tom Kilman, and he was heading for one of the small buildings. Frank knew he could cut him off, but there was still no sign of Joe. He had to make a choice—go after Kilman or find his brother.

There really wasn’t any choice at all.

Frank ran toward the dark, billowing cloud of smoke rising from the ground. It felt as if someone was stabbing him with a knife every time he had to take a deep breath, but if Joe were hurt, every second counted. Frank was painfully aware of each one ticking by as he pushed himself across the field.

He found Joe lying facedown, a few feet from the smoldering remains of one of the large solar collectors. Kneeling down beside him, Frank put two fingers on the side of his brother’s neck and felt a strong pulse. Joe stirred and let out a low groan.

“Where’s the ball?” Joe mumbled as he tried to push himself off the ground. “Did I get the fij*st down?’

“Take it slow and easy,” Frank said, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Does anything feel broken?”

Joe blinked and gazed at him. “I don’t think so,” he rephed slowly, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing there.

“How about your head?” Frank asked.

Joe frowned. “Does it look broken?”

“No,” Frank said patiently. “Do you feel dizzy or anything?”

Joe shook his head. The movement made him dizzy. “Only when I shake my head,” he responded.

It all started to come back to him. He looked past his brother at the burnt-out shell of the solar collector. “You were right about the hot-tub idea,” he said, rubbing the singed hair on his forearm. “It would never work out. But I think we should definitely look into the barbecue angle.”

Frank wasn’t the only one who had seen or heard the blast. The uniformed guard from the front gate was on the scene quickly. The Hardys flashed their ID cards, and for the moment that seemed to satisfy him. But before it occurred to him to ask them just how they got there in the first place, the familiar, round form of Mike Barnes appeared. He glanced at Joe and then turned to the guard. “Aren’t you going to call an ambulance?”

“Y-yes, sir,” the guard sputtered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anybody was here, sir.”

“Well, go and do it now,” Barnes ordered.

“I’m all right,” Joe insisted, finally managing to stand on his own. “I was just kind of dazed for a few minutes, that’s all.”

Barnes studied the two brothers for a moment. Then his attention shifted to the charred round dish. “Well, you two have certainly had a busy morning,” he said dryly.

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