The Caribbean Cruise Caper by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

that,” Sylvie warned. “You might catch something.”
    Instead of drinking, Cesar poured the water over his head. “Ah! That’s better,” he said. He looked around. “Where is everybody?”
    â€œOff,” Sylvie replied with a vague wave of the hand. “It’s late. We should get back to the yacht.”
    â€œHow? Jason’s the only one who can find his way around this place,” Cesar said. “He’s amazing.”
    As if summoned, Jason appeared. “We’re late,”he said. He pointed down one of the alleys. To Joe it looked no different from the others. “That should be the shortest way back.”
    As they walked downhill, the others joined them. Soon they emerged from the clustered houses at the seafront boulevard, just across from where the yacht was moored. At that moment Frank and Elizabeth came along. Elizabeth was carrying a shopping bag with the linked initials of a famous French designer. Joe caught Frank’s eye. Frank shrugged.
    The group started across the boulevard. Suddenly four motorbikes sped out of a side street and cut right in front of them. Each motorbike had a big metal box on the back, emblazoned with the words “All-Island Pizza. We D-liver, You D-light.” The riders halted next to the gangplank of the Colombe d’Or.
    â€œHey, hey, hey,” Boris said. “Looks like we eat pizza tonight. That’s a nice surprise.”
    The four riders took stacks of cardboard boxes from the carriers and started toward the boat. A man in a double-breasted white chef’s jacket met them and kept them from going aboard.
    â€œNO!” he shouted as the teens drew closer. “No one ordered pizzas. If we want pizza, I make pizza!”
    â€œSomebody ordered fifteen pies,” one of the riders insisted. He held out a slip of paper. “Here, see? The name of the boat, fifteen pies, plain, mushrooms, extra cheese . . . it’s all here.”
    â€œIt must be a joke,” the chef said. “I tell you, we did not order pizza.”
    â€œSome joke! What do we do with fifteen pies?” the deliveryman demanded.
    From the upper deck, Bettina said, “It’s all right. We’ll accept them. Arnie, pay him—and be sure to include a generous tip.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” the chef said in a grumpy tone.
    â€œThe prankster strikes again,” Joe murmured to Frank. “We’d better—”
    Nearby, voices were suddenly raised. “Come on, admit it!” Jason said to Boris. “I saw you sneak into that shop and make a phone call. And I overheard you say the name of the yacht.”
    â€œBig deal,” Boris said. “That proves nothing.”
    Jason stuck out his chin. “You want proof? I heard more than that. I heard you when you said mushrooms and cheese!”

7 A Telltale Chime
----
    Everyone clustered around Boris and Jason. From her position on the boat, Bettina heard Jason’s accusation and came ashore to join the group.
    â€œWhat about it, Boris?” Cesar asked. “Did you really call in that order for pizza?”
    â€œIt is not a very funny joke,” Sylvie said.
    Frank studied Boris’s expression. He did not look flustered by the pressure. If anything, there was a hint of secret amusement. What was the joke—if not the pizzas themselves?
    â€œYes, I made a phone call,” Boris announced.
    â€œReally, Boris, this sort of prank—” Bettina started to say.
    Boris interrupted her. “But I did not call a pizzeria. I called a friend back home. Her name isChristina. If you want to check with her, I will give you her number.”
    â€œI heard you say the Colombe d’Or ,” Jason repeated.
    Boris shrugged. “I was bragging about being on a fancy yacht. I told her the name of the yacht.”
    â€œOkay, but what about the mushrooms and cheese?” Joe asked.
    â€œI told Christina that tensions