High-Speed Showdown by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

“Now, there’s an odd thing. That buoy was definitely there yesterday around sunset. I happened to pay attention because there was one of those big inflatable outboard rigs tied up to it. You don’t see that many of them around here. And now that you ask, it comes back to me that it wasn’t there at daybreak. I noticed without really noticing, if you catch my drift.”
    â€œSo the buoy must have come loose at some time during the night,” Frank said, partly to himself.
    â€œWell, now, that’s an odd thing, too,” Captain Bill remarked. “It was pretty solidly anchored. I know, because I helped put it in place. It was attached to a big concrete block by a steel cable.”
    â€œHow strong a cable?” Joe asked.
    Captain Bill took off his cap, scratched his head, and put the cap back on. “I wouldn’t hazard aguess as to its breaking strength,” he said. “But it was the sort of cable you might use to lock up your bicycle, if you liked your bicycle a lot.”
    Joe looked over at Frank. They both knew how easily a bolt-cutting tool could slice through even the strongest bike cable lock.
    â€œIsn’t it unusual for a boat to be tied up to the buoy?” Frank asked.
    â€œNot really,” Captain Bill replied. “There’s pretty fair fishing around Cooley’s Ledge, and it’s easier to tie up your boat to the buoy than to drop an anchor. The boat itself was a little unusual, though. Must have been about a twenty-footer, with a hefty outboard on the back. Now that I think of it, I’ve seen it before, it or its twin. Over to the marina. One of those ecological groups takes people out in it to teach them about ecosystems or something.”
    â€œConnie!” Joe said under his breath.
    â€œThanks, Captain,” Frank said. “You’ve been a big help.”
    The Hardys hurried to the van and drove back to the marina. They checked the sidewalk in front of the inn, but there was no sign of Connie or Angelo. The guard at the marina gate looked in his directory and told them where the Earthquest boat was docked, but when they reached the slip, it was empty.
    Joe looked around. There was a white cabincruiser moored in the next slip. A man and woman were having coffee at the small table in the cockpit.
    â€œAhoy,” Joe called, feeling a little silly as he said it. “Did you see the Earthquest boat this morning?”
    â€œSure,” the man said. “Connie and a friend of hers took it out about an hour ago. They wanted to check out the course for the races and find a good spot to watch from.”
    â€œThanks,” Joe called. He turned to Frank and said in a low voice, “Connie wants to stop the races. Why would she want to go looking for a spot to watch them?”
    â€œI think we’d better ask her that question,” Frank replied. “The sooner the better. Good thing Sleuth has a full tank of gas.”
    The two Hardys walked quickly to the farthest dock, where they kept their little runabout. It took only moments to get the engine started. Frank took the helm. Joe untied the dock lines, then jumped in.
    â€œWhere to?” he asked, as Sleuth ’ s bow turned toward the mouth of the harbor. “There’s an awful lot of water out there.”
    â€œAccording to her neighbor, Connie was planning to look over the course of the races,” Frank reminded him. “Why don’t we simply start at the starting line and follow the marker buoys?”
    â€œThe course is about twenty-five miles,” Joe said. “It’s going to take a while.”
    Frank grinned. “It’s laid out in a long oval, you doofus. We can keep an eye on the return leg while we’re on our way out.”
    The morning was mostly sunny but not too warm, perfect conditions to be out on the water. The sparkling blue surface of the bay was dappled here and there by purple cloud shadows. Joe sat back in