The Chase for the Mystery Twister by Franklin W. Dixon

asked.
    â€œSelling his property,” Lucas replied. “Kannerwas so upset about losing his house, he planned to pack up and leave Twister Alley altogether.”
    â€œAnd the bank’s going to buy the property?” Frank asked.
    â€œKanner was willing to sell it cheap,” Lucas told him as he pulled the basket out of the deep fryer and dumped Frank’s fries onto a plate. “If I overheard correctly, he’s coming into the bank tomorrow morning to sign over the deed and get his money.”
    â€œSounds like he’s in a hurry to collect and leave,” Frank muttered, half to himself. “Did you see where Mr. Kanner went when he left?”
    â€œRight across the street to the Sandman Motel,” Lucas told him. “You want anything else, Frank?” Lucas asked as he walked toward the front door with his keys. “I’m closing up.”
    Frank shook his head and looked up as Diana returned from the back room. “I’m sorry, Frank,” she said in a gentler tone. “I don’t know why I got so upset.”
    â€œProbably because I got too nosy,” Frank replied. They both smiled.
    â€œI’ve locked up the front,” Lucas said. “Hope you don’t mind leaving by the back way.”
    â€œNot at all,” Frank said as he followed Diana and her uncle into the back room. Diana was turning off the lights, when Frank noticed a window looking out onto the alley behind Toby Gill’s office.
    â€œCan I be nosy just a little bit more?” Frankasked. “Toby Gill wasn’t in his office this morning—”
    â€œYeah, I saw him leave,” Lucas offered. Frank was struck speechless by the sudden answer. “About nine-thirty Toby loaded three boxes of stuff into the trunk of his car and took off.”
    â€œWow!” Frank exclaimed. “Then Henry Low River had nothing to do with his disappearance.”
    â€œI wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Lucas said, frowning. “Henry was parked down the alley and started to follow him.”
    â€œYou’re certain it was Mr. Low River?” Frank asked.
    â€œI had a clear view of his face,” Lucas replied. “He rolled down his window to toss something out.”
    â€œWhat did he toss out, Uncle Oscar?” Diana asked, getting pulled into the story.
    â€œSome little green box,” Lucas replied. “It should still be there.”
    â€œWould you mind showing me where he threw it?” Frank asked.
    Lucas took Frank to the spot. Sure enough, there was a small green box in the gutter.
    â€œUh-oh,” Frank said as he picked it up.
    â€œWhy ‘uh-oh’?” Diana asked. “What is it, Frank?”
    Frank looked up at her and her uncle. “It’s an empty box of thirty-eight-caliber cartridges.”

7 A Hidden Fugitive
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    Joe and Phil were already in Tahlequah before they realized that they had a problem: They didn’t know where they were going. Joe spotted a brightly lit building coming up on the right.
    â€œStop at this convenience store,” Joe instructed. Phil pulled over, and Joe got out and walked into the store. He immediately felt that all eyes were on him. The clerk and all the customers were Native American.
    â€œHi! How ya doing?” Joe said cheerfully. “Do any of you know where a wood sculptor named Henry Low River lives?”
    After a pause, the clerk replied. “No. Sorry.” The others just continued staring at Joe. He had never felt more like an outsider.
    â€œThank you anyway,” Joe said with a smile,then turned and left. He passed a young Native American boy outside who was sitting on his bicycle and munching on a candy bar. Joe was about to get back into the pickup when he changed his mind and walked back.
    â€œExcuse me—could I ask you something?” he asked the boy.
    â€œSure. What’s up?” the boy replied without hesitation.
    â€œI’m