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    Trouble Times Two
    Trouble Times Two
    Trouble Times Two
    Ebook121 pages1 hour

    Trouble Times Two

    By Franklin W. Dixon

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    About this ebook

    When newcomer and troublemaker Tom Gilliam helps the Hardys on a social studies project, they suspect that Tom’s father may be dealing in stolen goods. But when Tom disappears, they unearth a more deadly secret....
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAladdin
    Release dateSep 11, 2012
    ISBN9780743427647
    Trouble Times Two
    Author

    Franklin W. Dixon

    Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys books.

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      Book preview

      Trouble Times Two - Franklin W. Dixon

      1: The Troublemaker

      Can’t fall asleep, Frank Hardy warned himself. Can’t let my eyes close. The second I do that, I’m doomed.

      Even as he fought, Frank was losing the battle. The world became fuzzy through Frank’s brown eyes. Then it grew dark.

      A slight, stinging sensation on his left cheekbone made Frank’s eyes pop open.

      Turning to his left, Frank saw Callie Shaw seated at the desk next to his. She had lined up half a dozen tightly wadded tiny balls of paper. Her fingers were poised behind one of them, ready to flick it at him. Callie looked annoyed as she silently moved her lips. Frank could read what she was saying: Stay awake.

      Frank tried, but everything was working against him. The classroom was too hot, and the stuffy air felt as if everyone else in class had breathed it before it got to him. As Mr. Bannerman, the social studies teacher, droned on, Frank decided he might as well have been speaking Klingon for all the sense he was making.

      Frank’s eyelids began sliding shut again—until another spitball brought him around.

      "You’ll find much more on the system of checks and balances in chapter seven of your textbook. Mr. Bannerman pushed his glasses up on his nose, a hint that his lecture was finally coming to a close. Read that for our next class."

      Frank glanced at the clock. There were still fifteen minutes before the period came to an end and lunch began. Mr. Bannerman stepped back to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. From where Frank sat, he couldn’t read it. It looked like an official letter, though.

      The teacher cleared his throat. I received a cheerful announcement from the school board today, he said. The members are pleased to announce a social science fair to be held six weeks from Saturday. All students will be expected to display projects in the school cafeteria.

      Frank noticed that the students in the class looked a lot less than pleased.

      Mr. Bannerman went on. Class members may work in teams of up to six students. He glanced around. Perhaps you’d like to spend the rest of the period choosing partners.

      Suddenly the room was bustling. Frank stood and stepped the short distance to Callie. Her blue eyes twinkled as she brushed back her blond hair. They were quickly joined by Phil Cohen, a grin on his thin, usually serious face.

      Good, Callie murmured. "At least we have one bright person on our team."

      Speak for yourself, Frank replied as Kevin Wylie and Liz Webling also joined their group.

      In moments the class had divided itself into six teams—and one lone figure.

      Tom Gilliam sat slumped in his seat, his lips twisted in the half sneer he usually wore. He glanced around at his classmates as if they were a flock of sheep unquestioningly following their shepherd.

      Frank returned his look. Tom had transferred to Bayport High in the middle of the quarter, but he already had a reputation as a troublemaker. Every class had a Tom Gilliam, someone who’d mouth off to teachers and find a way to disrupt classes. Tom Gilliam took things so far, though, that he hadn’t made a single friend at Bayort High. But someone had hung a mocking nickname on him that seemed likely to stick—Trouble Boy.

      Mr. Bannerman stepped over to Tom, clearing his throat again. I see you haven’t chosen a team, Mr. Gilliam.

      That’s because nobody wants him. Callie hadn’t meant her comment to be public, but her words came out in one of those moments of dead silence. Everyone heard, and the classroom filled with snickers and barely controlled laughter.

      Frank could see that Tom had heard, too. His long, pale face went as red as his blazing hair.

      Mr. Bannerman pretended nothing had happened. Since you apparently can’t make a choice, I’ll do the job for you.

      The teacher’s eyes ranged the room, landing on Frank’s team. This group here, I think. His hand went for Tom’s shoulder to steer him, but the new kid was already out of his chair, almost flinching from Mr. Bannerman’s touch.

      Well, isn’t this just great? Callie muttered, keeping her voice even lower than usual.

      Tom Gilliam faced the group as if he expected fists to fly. He stood uncertainly for a moment, then the sneer came back to his face.

      Since you chose teams so quickly you can take the rest of the period to discuss topics. Mr. Bannerman rustled the letter. According to this, your project should deal with important subjects and movements of the past fifty years.

      Fifty years, Kevin Wylie repeated. I wonder why they set up a cutoff date like that.

      Because anything before that stops being social studies and becomes ancient history, Tom Gilliam cut in.

      Callie just ignored him. So what do we do for a topic? What’s a big deal in the last fifty years?

      Decline of unions? Frank offered.

      The decline of newspapers? Liz suggested, topping him.

      Frank had to grin. Both Liz and her dad worked for the Bayport Gazette.

      I think we need something a little—um—hot, Callie said.

      Like do parents have the right to block kids’ access to particular Web sites on the Internet, Tom threw in.

      "Maybe that’s a little too hot," Frank said.

      So, do we want to do something with good guys and bad guys? Callie asked. Maybe something to do with crime?

      Kevin laughed. Why not? We’ve got Mr. Detective here.

      Frank became uncomfortable. I think we should go for something different, he said. Something nobody else would choose.

      How about protests? Kevin suggested. There have been a lot of those in the last fifty years.

      I bet nobody will think of that, Tom said sarcastically.

      I saw something on the Net that might tie in with that, Phil said. This guy wrote a paper about people who protest by blowing the whistle, exposing corporate wrongdoing.

      Whistle-blowers, Callie said. That’s different.

      Liz nodded. Like that guy who ripped the lid off the whole cigarette business. Pretty cool.

      Tom looked as if he’d bitten into a sandwich that had gone bad. Come on. Guys who rat out their companies are real losers. Nutcases, or people about to lose their jobs.

      Frank glanced around the group. Callie, Kevin, Liz—everybody was glaring at Tom. Frank wasn’t surprised. Even he was getting tired of Tom’s smart mouth.

      I like this whistle-blowing thing, Frank said.

      Me, too, Callie snapped.

      Frank, Callie, Phil . . . Kevin said. I think my vote gives the whistle-blowers the majority.

      And mine makes it almost unanimous, Liz added.

      I think Tom may have a point, Phil said. So why don’t we work his idea into the project? We can explore the pro–whistle-blower point of view—and the opposite.

      Yeah, Frank agreed. Tom here can head up the anti–whistle-blower team, Phil the pro.

      Tom just stood with his mouth hanging open. For once he didn’t have a word to say—nasty or otherwise.

      The bell finally rang, and everybody thundered out of the classroom. Frank and Callie stuck their books in their lockers and headed for lunch. Callie was still annoyed at Tom Gilliam. We really have to thank Mr. Bannerman for sticking us with that guy, she complained to Frank as they entered the cafeteria.

      Look at it from a teacher’s point of view, Frank joked. He wants to help Tom break out of his shell and enter the mainstream of school life.

      Breaking and entering, Callie muttered. I bet there are lots of people who’d love to catch Gilliam doing that.

      Hey, guys, Frank’s younger brother, Joe, said as he joined them in line. What’s the word?

      I can’t remember. Are you taking social studies this year? Callie asked.

      The younger Hardy brother nodded his blond head.

      Oh, are you in for happy news, Callie told him. We have to do special projects. Actually, maybe it’s only for seniors. I don’t know for sure if juniors have to do it—

      Her report was interrupted by a shout from farther up the line. Then came the clatter of falling trays and plates.

      Frank, Joe, and Callie all whipped around. None of them could believe their eyes. Their jock pal, big, beefy Biff Hooper, was staggering out of the food line.

      And charging him, throwing a punch at his face, was Tom Gilliam.

      2: Stakeout

      We have to stop this before they get in trouble, Joe said. He moved to Biff, while Frank tried to stop Tom.

      Joe definitely had the easier job. Biff wasn’t even fighting. He appeared almost dazed. What’s with that guy? he asked. "I just made a comment about his shirt, and he starts swinging at

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