152-Danger in the Extreme by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-07T15:15:11+00:00

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"What for?"

"He said she was going to let me in on a big stu they'd planned."

"What kind of stunt?"

Neal switched his duffel from one hand to thj other. "I asked, but he wouldn't say." m The whole situation seemed kind of strange i Frank, but before he had time to ask Neal moiL questions, they ran into Joe and Fred Vale. A cameraman was right behind them.

Vale held the microphone under Joe's nose. "Do|

you have your snowmobile all tweaked out for th«

finals, Joe?" .

Joe stared hard into the camera. "I've got a fe\ more things I can do to get extra horsepower," h said. "But I'll be ready by race time."

"How about Justice Edwards? You nervous abou' going up against him again in the finals after thos two big wipeouts?"

Frank saw his brother's jaw muscles twitch at t mention of Edwards's name.

"No way," Joe said. "I'm ready for anything he got. Tell him to bring it on."

"Great!" Vale said, motioning for the camerama to stop filming. "Great interview, Joe. Good luck i the finals." .—Vale and the cameraman hurried off in the direc-i tion of Edwards's pit.

"Hey, fellas," Joe said. "Neal, man. How'd the jumping go?"

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When Neal didn't say anything, Frank spoke for him. "Pretty good. He almost had a top-ten finish, but he doesn't want to talk about it. Where's Jamal?"

"He had to go help his dad get the planes ready for the sky surfing tomorrow," Joe said, stepping back over to his snowmobile. "Vale wasted a lot of my time. I've got to rush to get ready."

The three of them made some final adjustments to the sled. Then it was time to help Joe push it out to the course.

Frank and Neal sat in the same seats they'd had the night before. Frank tried to pick out the Secret Service agenf^around them, but this time they weren't so obvious.

Down on the track, Joe idled his sled up to the starting line. This was what he lived for. The stands were full of fans. It was late afternoon and getting dark, and the stadium lights would click on at any minute. He loved racing under the lights; it made him feel as if he was going extra fast.

He looked to his right, down the line of racers. Edwards was three places away from him, but Joe expected him to come flying across his path at the start. That maniac would do anything to get a hole shot.

Joe cranked the throttle. His sled sounded good.

the ski was fixed. The race was his.

The green flag fell, and Joe bolted for the first turn.

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