The Firebird Rocket by Franklin W. Dixon

it, would you call Mr. Ponsley? We’ll have to tell him that we can’t work for him.”
    â€œSure.” Frank dialed the man’s number. “This is Frank Hardy,” he said a few seconds later. “I’m sorry we can’t take the Moran assignment, but we’re involved in our father’s case and have to leave the country.”
    Ponsley was unhappy. “That is disappointing news. I was counting on you to locate Michael,” he said. “Well, I’ll have to get another detective. I need one now more than ever, because I have a new cluel”

CHAPTER VIII
    Danger in the Surf
    FRANK started to ask what the new clue was, but a loud click at the other end of the line told him that the man had hung up.
    â€œMr. Ponsley says he has a new lead on Mike Moran,” Frank said to Joe.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œDon’t know. He didn’t tell me. Anyhow, it doesn’t matter. We’re tied up with the Jenson investigation. Somebody else will have to find Mike, wherever he is.”
    Early next morning the boys packed their bags and were just about ready to depart for the airport, when Chet arrived in his jalopy.
    â€œGuess what!” he called out, bubbling over with excitement.
    â€œWhat?” Frank asked.
    â€œI won first prize in my category of the science competition, fifteen hundred dollars in cash!”
    â€œWow, that’s great, Chet!” Joe exclaimed. “Have you decided what to do with it yet?”
    â€œSure! I’ll go to Australia with you guys, of course!” Chet said. “I already called the airline. They had a vacant seat on your plane, so I packed my bags and came over here pronto!”
    â€œThat’s terrific!” Frank said. “I’m glad you can come with us.”
    â€œSo am I,” Joe added. “And now we’d better leave so we don’t miss our flight.”
    The boys said good-by to Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude and drove to the Bayport airfield, where they parked their car in an overnight lot. They took a plane to New York and transferred at Kennedy Airport to a jumbo jet for Sydney, Australia.
    Soon they had settled into their seats at the rear of the plane. Chet sat at the window, Frank in the middle, and Joe on the aisle. Frank took a map of the Pacific from a folder provided by the airline and began to plot their route.
    â€œWe’ll touch down at Los Angeles and Honolulu,” he informed his companions. “From there it’s nonstop to Sydney.”
    The plane took off. Suddenly a flash of red caught Joe’s eye. A stout man was napping on the other side of the aisle, a few rows in front of the boys. The color came from a large ruby ring he wore.
    Joe stood up to see better. “That’s Ponsley!” he exclaimed.
    Frank picked up the map spread across his knees and got up, too. He looked where his brother was pointing. “It sure is, Joe. What’s he doing here?”
    â€œMaybe he’s tailing us,” Chet guessed.
    â€œWell, if he is, he’s not very good at it,” Joe replied. “He’s asleep, and that giant ruby is a dead giveaway. Let’s wake him up.”
    â€œNot me,” Chet said hastily. “I’ll stay in this seat until we land!”
    Leaving their friend, Frank and Joe walked up the aisle. Joe nudged their portly acquaintance with his elbow.
    Ponsley stirred, yawned, opened his eyes, and stared at the Hardys. He looked startled as he recognized them.
    â€œAre you following us?” Joe demanded.
    â€œOf course not,” Ponsley replied.
    â€œHow come you’re on this plane, then?” Frank asked.
    â€œSenator Moran had a tip from a friend who just returned from abroad,” Ponsley explained. “The man said he recognized Michael in a newspaper photograph of a soccer game in Sydney. The senator didn’t give me time to find another detective. He told me to go to Australia myself, so I caught this