23-Disaster for Hire by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Mysteries & Detective Stories
ISBN: 9780671716134
Google: AelaQwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0671716131
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1989-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

FRANK WAITED HALF AN HOUR for his soda, then decided to go out and find Joe.

Old Mr. Reisberson was still on the porch, gently rocking to and fro. He spat out his toothpick. "Decided to look over the sights, have you?"

"Have you seen my brother?"

"Oh, is that other young man your brother? I never would have guessed," said the bearded innkeeper. "You don't look much alike. It was the same with the Wepman twins. One was tall, the other short. One had a mustache, the other — "

"Did you see him come out?" Frank cut in.

"About what time would that've been?"

"Thirty minutes or so ago."

"Now, thirty minutes or so ago I was just finishing a piece of peach cobbler over at the cafe. Then I dropped in at the general store to look at the magazines. I do that each and every day unless it's raining, in which case I — "

"Was he in the cafe?"

"Not so I noticed, nor in the general store either," said Reisberson. "There was a young fellow — not as young as your brother though — in Jerry's Cafe. Had long black hair." He shook his head. "Not very friendly. I couldn't for the life of me get a conversation going. Even though I'm sure he's been through here before and isn't exactly a — "

"Was he thin, wearing black?" Frank began to have a bad feeling.

Reisberson nodded, pleased. "Dressed in black from head to toe. Friend of yours, is he?"

"Not exactly." Frank cut across the street at a run and went into the cafe.

It was narrow, with three dark brown booths and a five-stool counter. A blond man was sitting behind the counter, reading a travel magazine.

"Faraway places," he said, steepling the magazine on the counter. "That's where I'd like to be. What can I do for you? The special today is barley soup. I know it doesn't sound all that special, but this has been one of those days."

"Actually, I'm looking for my brother." Frank described Joe. "Have you see him in here?"

The counterman shook his head. "Nobody like that has been in," he answered. "Been a slow day so far. Sure you don't want anything?"

"Not right now. There was another man in here—thin, dark hair worn long?"

"Yeah, he was here all right—had a funny voice. Complained about the cream being a little bit sour. You interested in him too?"

"In a way. Do you know where he went?"

"Straight to — Wait a sec." He hunched, glancing at the streaked door. "I think I did see this brother of yours. Blond, husky kid, you say?"

"That's him, yes. Where did he go?"

"Just after that grouch went out, I happened to be looking out the window. I noticed your brother coming across the street."

"Do you have any idea where he went?"

The counterman pointed with his left hand. "Same direction as the other fellow, toward Mae-der's General Store," he said. "Care for a piece of pie?"

"Maybe later. Thanks." Frank hurried out.

He made his way along the street to the general store.

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