Balloon Blow-Up (4 page)

“We got to the park at seven thirty,” Joe remembered. “The handlers were starting to spread out the balloon.”

“It could have happened after they left the balloon,” Frank suggested. “There was no one there when we went to take the picture.”

“That was eight thirty,” Joe said. “I remember Lynn telling us the time.”

“Seven thirty . . . eight thirty,” Frank thought out loud. “That means the balloon could have been slashed between—”

“Seven thirty and eight thirty,” Joe cut in excitedly.

Joe's fingers turned green as he scribbled the time line on the court.

He then turned to Frank and said, “Next
W
—
Where
did it happen?”

“Lynn said the balloon was in good shape at the factory,” Frank said. “So the damage probably happened in the park.”

Then Joe asked, “
Why
would anyone want to slash the Green Crawler balloon? And
How
did they slash it?”

“Maybe somebody wanted to get even with the parade,” Frank said, and shrugged. “Kit was mad at Kevin for making the band march in front of the Green Crawler balloon.”

“She also had that pointy baton,” Joe said. “Pointy enough to poke a hole in the balloon.”

“We saw her crawling underneath the balloon too,” Frank pointed out. “Pretty suspicious, if you ask me.”

Joe wrote Kit's name on the cement. He then looked up and said, “Maybe somebody didn't want to get even with the parade—but with us.”

“Us?” Frank repeated.

“Adam was a sore loser when I won the contest,” Joe said. “He was also carrying that sharp pitchfork.”

“We know what a creep Adam can be too,” Frank said. But as Joe wrote Adam's name, Frank thought of one more.

“What about Sammy and his Nutty the Squirrel fan club?” Frank asked. “They were here, checking out the Green Crawler balloon.”

Joe began to write Sammy's name, and then said, “How do you spell ‘Kernkraut?' ”

“
K
-
e
-
r
-
n
-
k
-
r
-
a
-
u
-
t
!” a voice shouted.

“Huh?” Joe said. He turned to see the chalk girl walking over. She was smiling as she snapped Joe's Green Crawler claw.

“What are you, a spelling bee champ?” Joe asked.

“No, silly,” the girl said. “Sammy Kernkraut is my brother. He's eight, and I'm five and three quarters.”

“You're Sammy's sister?” Frank asked.

“Does that answer your question?” she asked. Using the claw, she pointed to her signature under the butterfly: Sadie Kernkraut.

Frank raised an eyebrow at Joe. Maybe Sadie could tell them what Sammy and the club had done.

“So, Sadie,” Frank said. “What did your brother do this morning?”

“Sammy and the club usually watch the Nutty the Squirrel show every Saturday morning,” Sadie said. She shook her head hard. “But not today.”

“How come?” Joe asked.

“The club had something important to do,” Sadie said. “Really, really important.”

Joe urged her on. “What did they do?”

“Was it something with a giant balloon?” Frank asked.

“I'm not telling,” Sadie said. She held up the Green Crawler claw. “Unless you give me this thing for keeps.”

“Nuh-uh,” Joe said, shaking his head. “No deal.”

“Let her have it, Joe!” Frank urged.

“But it's my lucky charm!” Joe argued.

“How lucky could it be if you had it when we got fired?” Frank argued back. “And she might give us a great clue.”

“Clue?” Sadie gasped. “Are you guys spies?”

Joe didn't answer. He just held out his hand and said, “Come on. Give it up.”

“No claw, no clue,” Sadie said. She gave Joe the claw, then pointed behind him. “Look. Here comes a scarecrow!”

Frank and Joe turned to see a kid dressed as a scarecrow walking in their direction. When they saw the pitchfork in his hand, they knew who it was!

“Adam Ackerman!” Frank declared.

When Adam saw the brothers, he narrowed his eyes. He then turned and ran the other way.

“He's not getting away this time!” Frank said.

Joe dropped the chalk. In a flash he and Frank were chasing Adam through the park.

“Somebody stop that scarecrow!” Frank yelled as they charged past the playground.

Adam raced onto the parade practice field. So did Frank and Joe. Adam headed straight toward the Taylor Smyth hoedown float. So did Frank and Joe.

“We're catching up!” Frank said.

“Are we lucky or what?” Joe exclaimed.

Their luck ran out as a bunch of other scarecrows began dancing in their direction. Frank and Joe groaned as the scarecrows from the hoedown float blocked their way!

“Get out of the way—please!” Joe shouted.

“
You
get out of the way,” one of the scarecrows shouted over the canned music. “We're practicing here!”

The brothers scurried around the scarecrows. But the scarecrow they wanted was gone.

“Maybe he's on the float,” Joe said.

The brothers climbed up onto the hoedown float. They didn't see Adam, but they saw his pitchfork leaning against the barn.

“Careful,” Joe said as Frank reached for the pitchfork. “That thing is sharp.”

“No, it's not,” Frank said as he flicked the prongs. “These things are made out of rubber!”

“Rubber?” Joe cried. He felt a prong to see for himself. It was soft and rubbery—and it bounced!

“Adam couldn't have ripped the balloon with this fork,” Frank said, leaning the pitchfork back on the barn.

“I still don't trust Adam,” Joe said. “Maybe he had a pair of scissors in his pocket or something else sharp.”

“There's only one way to find out,” Frank said. He pounded on the barn door and yelled, “Open up! Open up!”

“Or we'll open it for you!” Joe shouted.

Frank and Joe pounded and shouted—until two tall shadows slowly loomed over them.

Turning, the brothers gulped. Behind them were two big guys wearing leather jackets and dark shades. The one chewing a toothpick gazed down at them and said through gritted teeth:

“Looking for someone, fellas?”

F
rank and Joe stared up at the guys.

“Um—we were looking for the person who ripped the Green Crawler balloon!” Joe blurted.

“We think he's hiding in the barn!” Frank said.

The barn door creaked open. Was Adam giving himself up? But instead of Adam stepping out, it was—

“Taylor Smyth!” Joe gasped.

Taylor wore a red-and-white plaid shirt, jean shorts, and a big smile. “Hi, boys,” she said. “I see you've met my bodyguards, Dash and Boris.”

Joe heard a snicker. He turned to see Adam peeking out from behind the barn.

“There he is!” Joe said, pointing. “There's the guy who ripped the Green Crawler balloon!”

Adam coolly strolled out from behind the barn. “Who, me?” he asked innocently.

The other scarecrows had stopped dancing. They stood on the float, watching everything.

“Go ahead, Boris and Dash,” Frank said. “Check Adam's pockets for scissors or something else sharp.”

Another scarecrow let out a laugh.

“Good luck with that!” he said. “Our scarecrow costumes have no pockets!”

“Yeah!” a teenage scarecrow with a flowered hat complained. “I have nowhere to put my cell phone.”

“Or my gum!” a younger scarecrow added.

“That was my idea, you guys,” Taylor said, and smiled. “I don't want any snacking or texting on my float.”

“Want to check my pockets now, losers?” Adam sneered at Frank and Joe.

“And no name-calling on my float, either,” Taylor scolded Adam.

The bodyguards now loomed over Adam.

“What are you doing back here, anyway?” Boris demanded. “You were fired.”

“Fired?” Joe asked.

“He tied my manager's shoelaces together earlier this morning,” Taylor said. “What a pest!”

“I'm going, I'm going!” Adam groaned.

“Don't forget to return your costume at the tent.” Dash pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at Adam's. “I'll be watching you, wise guy!”

Adam stomped his way out of the barn.

“We'd better go too,” Frank murmured to Joe.

“Wait!” Joe said. “We forgot something important.”

“We did?” Frank asked. “What?”

“We forgot to get Taylor's autograph!” Joe said with a smile.

Taylor was happy to give Frank and Joe signed pictures. The brothers thanked Taylor, then left to meet their parents outside the park.

“How did parade practice go?” Fenton Hardy asked as the boys climbed into the backseat of the car.

Frank and Joe traded embarrassed looks.

“Well,” Frank said slowly, “we got to meet Taylor Smyth.”

“Taylor who?” Mrs. Hardy asked.

“She's a singer, Mom,” Joe explained. He took a deep breath before adding, “Um . . . we also got fired from the parade.”

“What?” Mr. and Mrs. Hardy exclaimed at the same time.

Frank explained all about Adam's causing Joe to fall on the balloon, and how everyone blamed Joe.

“I'm sure the balloon wasn't ripped after I fell on it,” Joe said.

“Hmm,” Fenton said as he drove. “Sounds like you guys were framed.”

“Do you want your father and me to talk to Mr. Lively?” Mrs. Hardy asked over her shoulder.

“No thanks, Mom,” Frank said. “We want to find the real balloon ripper ourselves.”

“So the Hardy brothers are on the case.” Fenton smiled. “Do you have any suspects?”

“Only two left, Dad,” Joe said. “Kit the bandleader and the Nutty the Squirrel fan club.”

“We'll never be able to question the club,” Frank said. “Sammy Kernkraut knows we're not big Nutty fans.”

“We can
pretend
we want to join the club,” Joe said. “I've heard them talk about it and they meet every Saturday at Sammy's house at eleven.”

“But we don't know where Sammy lives,” Frank said.

“I do,” Mrs. Hardy said. “It's in the middle of the block on Mortimer Street.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Joe said.

“But it's more than an hour until eleven o'clock,” Fenton said. “What do you boys want to do before the club?”

Joe's stomach growled loudly. “Does that answer your question?” he asked.

“Who's in the mood for pancakes?” Frank asked.