Hardy Boys Casefiles: Lazarus Plot

Chapter 3

JOE DID NOT hear the rifle shot he was expecting. He did not feel a bullet slam into him. Instead he heard the wiry man with the rifle gasp, "Aghhh!" as Frank karate-chopped him on one forearm, then the other, in a blur of motion.

The rifle dropped from the man's paralyzed hands, and the man dropped on top of it, after Frank chopped at the back of his neck.

The bearded man reached for the hunting knife on his belt, but he never made it. Joe hit him in a flying tackle, smashing him back against a tree, then let him go and backed off a step. When the bearded man reached for his knife again, Joe lashed a right hook to the jaw. The man went down like a sack of flour. "Good work," said Frank as he removed the 14

wiry man's belt and set about tying his hands behind his back with it.

"Good work yourself," said Joe, doing the same thing to the bearded man. "I thought I was a goner. I thought you went, too. You woke up in the nick of time."

"Actually, I came to a couple of minutes before, but I didn't see any sense in letting those guys know it," said Frank, squatting as he made sure the wiry man was securely tied. Then he stood up.

"Playing possum, huh?" said Joe, giving his man a final check and standing up, too.

"Right," said Frank. "I figured it might be interesting to hear what they had to say to each other when they thought I was unconscious. And of course, it would be a lot easier to make my move when their guard was down." "Did they say anything?" asked Joe. "Yeah, but I didn't understand what," said Frank.

"They were speaking French, I think," said Joe. "You must have understood something, unless that A you got in French class last year was a joke."

"I just caught a stray word here and there," said Frank, shaking his head. "They were speaking with some kind of weird accent. Plus they were talking real fast, and my head was still ringing, so it all sounded like Greek to me."

Joe laughed, then became serious. "We'll just have to wait until they come to before we find out what they're up to."

"We can speed up the process," said Frank, unhooking his canteen from his belt. "I'll do to them what they did to me-give them a water cure."

A minute later, the men were standing on their feet, shaking their heads.

"Sacre bleu, qu' est-ce qui s' est passe?" mumbled one. "Ma pauvre tete," groaned the other. "Either of you speak English?" asked Frank. "Yes, of course," the bearded man said with a heavy accent.

"Certainly," replied the other one, with a similar accent. "We come from Quebec. We French Canadians must speak both French and English."

"Then you can start talking," said Joe, in a hard voice. "Why were you taking target practice on us?" said Frank. "On you?" said the bearded man. "Why should we shoot at you?"

"Think hard," said Joe, raising his fist-menacingly. "You should be able to remember. It was just about fifteen minutes ago..."

"Mais non, that was you?" said the wiry man.

He turned to his companion. "I told you that you were mistaken when you said you saw deer. You are always so quick on the trigger."

"When you hunt, you must react instantly," said the bearded man defensively. "Otherwise, the deer, they get away. I saw the motion, I was sure it was the deer. Needless to say, I apologize. "

"I must apologize, too, for hitting you over the head," the wiry man said to Frank. "But when I saw you attacking my friend Henri here, I had no choice. Who knew what kind of criminal or madman you might have been?"