115 Sabotage at Sports City by Franklin W. Dixon

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

Chapter 9

Frank Smells a Rat

Frank couldn't get his eyes to open. When he finally did blink awake, everything in the room was out of focus. And there was an awful burning pain in his stomach.

He tried moving his arm, but somehow he couldn't get his muscles to cooperate. When he tried to sit up, Frank realized that he'd gotten tangled up in the phone cord. He remembered the last thing he'd been doing before he passed out. He'd tried to call for help. He must have gotten caught in the cord.

Except ... he wasn't tangled at all. Someone had wrapped the cord around Frank's neck! More than once.

Frantically, he untangled the cord and at the same time looked around the room in horror. Joe, Sean, and Chet were sprawled out on the carpet - and they weren't moving.

Frank sprang to his brother and tried to wake him up. "Joe. Joe!" he cried desperately.

At first, Joe didn't move. Frank shook him as hard as he could, and finally Joe started to moan.

"The cake," Joe said, speaking in a croaky voice.

By now Chet and Sean were also coming to. "What happened?" Chet groaned. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Take some deep breaths," Frank said. "It'll pass."

"Frank, the cake," Joe said.

"I know. You already said that."

"That's not what I mean," Joe said. "It's gone!"

Frank's eyes darted to the desk - no cake, no box, no plates or forks, not even a crumb.

"It's okay," Frank said, trying to keep calm. Obviously a lot had gone on in the past few minutes. He and Joe needed some time to piece it together.

Joe stood up, holding on to the desk for balance. He was still unsteady on his feet. "Someone laced a cake with knockout drops and left it here," Joe said. "When we passed out, he - or she - came in and took the cake away."

"That's not all," Frank said. He'd already checked his back pocket. He knew Joe wasn't going to like the next piece of bad news. "They took our wallets and our Olympic IDs."

Joe felt for his wallet. It was gone. "What are we going to do now?" he asked, about to lose his temper.

"Calm down," Frank said. "We can get new ID cards from Cathleen Barton. Let's stick to the case. I figure whoever did it was watching us. He knew when we came back to the room, knew how long to wait before we'd be out cold."

"How long have we been out?" Sean asked.

Frank checked his watch. It was eleven-thirty. "We've been unconscious for about twenty minutes, I'd say," Frank answered.

"But how'd they get into my room?" Sean asked.

"Probably used the old credit card trick," Joe replied. "I'd show you - but our wallets are gone. Come on, Frank. Maybe the trail's still warm."

"Good idea," Frank agreed. "Will you guys be okay?"

Chet and Sean nodded glumly. Frank and Joe didn't waste any more time. They ran out of the room and into the dormitory lobby, asking each person they passed whether they'd seen anyone carrying a white bakery box.

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