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Nice acting, bro. Nice.

  I could see him clinging to the wing. The plane, dragged by his weight, started to bank to the left.

  “Now you,” Bump said to me. “Turn around and start moving.”

  I followed Frank out the window, and I didn’t try jumping Bump. I didn’t know how we were going to get out of this alive. All I knew was, I trusted my brother and his convoluted brain. I had faith that Frank, as always, had a plan.

  “So long, boys!” Bump yelled before closing the window behind us. He grabbed the controls, but he was still fighting our weight, which was now dragging the plane to one side.

  “Quick!” Frank yelled to me. “We’ve got to get to the center. Climb on top of the fuselage.”

  I followed his instructions. It was hard to hold on—the plane had to be going eighty miles an hour, and we were at least a thousand feet up.

  The wind was so powerful it pushed me back along the top of the plane. I slid until I hit the tail—which was right between my legs.

  OW!!

  I winced in pain. Could it be worse?

  At least I wasn’t going to fall off from this position. I guess.

  Now I saw Frank, sliding back toward me. His right foot hit me square in the head. Right into my black eyes.

  OW!!

  Yeah. It could be worse.

  At least now we were both firmly attached to the plane, with good footholds and handholds.

  Just in time, too, because Bump had realized we were there and was trying his best to shake us off.

  He was doing rollovers.

  We held on with sheer muscle power, fighting gravity, until Bump had to right the plane or risk crashing.

  In fact, now that Frank and I were firmly attached to the tail section, the whole plane was dragging—so much so that it might tip upward and stall out at any moment.

  Frank looked back at me.

  “What do we do now?” I asked him.

  “Look behind you!” he yelled.

  I did—and there, trailing behind us, was a big, long banner. EAT AT RON’S LOBSTER SHACK, it said.

  “How did that get there?” I shouted.

  “One of us must have hit the release button by accident! Joe—it’s our way out of this!”

  “What?”

  “Climb out on the banner!”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “We’ll make it into a parachute!”

  “A parachute?”

  “Aunt Trudy, Joe! Remember? Bottom left corner, top right corner …”

  Now I saw what he was getting at.

  It was a long shot, all right. But it just might work.

  I waited for a moment when Bump wasn’t trying to shake us off. Then I eased myself around the tail, grabbed onto the banner, and swung myself off the plane. Gradually, little by little, hand over hand, I let myself out toward the far end, while Frank followed behind me.

  I watched as he took out his pocketknife and flipped it open. “Ready?” he called to me.

  I nodded.

  “Grab your two corners!” he shouted. “And hold on!”

  He cut the cord holding the banner to the plane, and with a sudden snap, we were floating free.

  Plummeting free is more like it, really.

  I spread my hands wide, trying to keep the banner as open as possible.

  The tug on my arms was tremendous. Good thing I’d worked out before we left.

  Across from me, Frank was grimacing as he held his corners. The veins in his neck looked like they were going to pop out.

  The ocean was getting closer by the second. I could see it in the dawn’s early light. We were right over the shore and drifting toward the beach. If we hit the sand at this speed, we were goners.

  I looked up for a second, and I saw Bump’s plane spinning downward, out of control. The shock when we’d cut our weight loose must have made him stall out!

  As we got closer to a deadly crash-landing, I stared at the beach below us. I was more terrified than I’d ever been in my life.

  Was this it? Were we really going to die like this?

  My whole life flashed before my eyes in a second. Dad, Mom, Aunt Trudy, all my friends … and most of all, Frank, who was going through the same thing, I’m sure.

  BOOM!!

  I heard the explosion—Bump and his plane hitting the water at 100 miles an hour. Well, he got what he deserved, I thought.

  Small satisfaction, though. In about five seconds, we’d be as dead as he was.

  I closed my eyes and braced for impact….

  KATHUNK!!!

  Am I dead?

  My mouth was full of sand. So were my eyes. They stung.

  I hurt all over.

  But … if everything hurt, I couldn’t be dead, right?

  “Joe, are you okay?” It was Frank’s voice.

  He was alive too!

  I spat a wad of sand out of my mouth. I still seemed to have all my teeth. This was good.

  I tried to open my eyes. It took a while to get the sand out of them and actually see anything.

  Finally, I saw Frank standing over me, covered with sand—but very much alive.

  I stood up—slowly, carefully—and stared at the mound of soft sand that had saved both me and Frank from certain death….

  It was the Taj Mahal. Carl Jardine’s amazing sand sculpture!

  Funny.

  Perfect.

  His masterpiece was totaled, all right—but we were still whole. Which proves one thing: It’s lucky to be smart, but it’s even smarter to be lucky.

  19. There’s No Place Like Home

  We paid a big chunk of money to get driven back to Bayport by limo. Both Joe and I were way too sore to drive, and neither of us wanted to hop in a plane again anytime soon.

  We’d spent the whole day being checked over at the Ocean Point Community Hospital (lots of bruises, but amazingly, no broken bones—thanks to Aunt Trudy and her Code of Perfect Sheet-Folding).

  The police didn’t believe our story at first, but when they found some of the stolen loot in the desk drawer of Bump’s office at city hall, they decided to let us go.

  We could have hung around for a real vacation, but Ocean Point was the last place we wanted to be right then. Both of us felt like Dorothy at the end of The Wizard of Oz: “There’s no place like home.”

  We rolled up in front of our house and slowly, painfully, got out of the limo. Mom and Aunt Trudy were out front, weeding the flower garden. Playback was perched on Trudy’s shoulder, as usual.

  “What the—?” Mom gasped when she caught sight of us.

  I knew we were in for it.

  “What have you boys been up to this time?” Aunt Trudy asked. “Look at them, Laura—they’re black and blue all over. You boys have been getting into fights again, haven’t you? Don’t deny it!”

  “Now, Trudy,” said good old Mom, “I’m sure if the boys were fighting, it’s only because they were provoked.”

  “Oh, right,” said Trudy. “‘They’re good boys, your honor!’ Hmph!”

  “Now, Trudy,” Mom said, “let’s not jump to conclusions. I’m sure Frank and Joe can explain everything. Let’s go inside and have some lemonade, and they can tell us all about their adventures on the Shore.”

  Lemonade? Yes, please.

  Between the driveway and the kitchen, I was sure I could come up with something to tell them. Something that wasn’t the truth, but that would sound enough like it to satisfy them.

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Playback squawked, staring straight at me.

  I put a hand on Joe’s arm before he could go for the parrot.

  “By the way,” Aunt Trudy said as we crossed the living room, “those sheets you folded last Saturday? All wrong. I had to do them over again—corners weren’t lined up at all! When are you boys ever going to learn?”

  “Now, Trudy,” Mom said, “the boys are all bruised and banged up. Let’s not pester them about the sheets. After all, perfectly folded sheets aren’t a matter of life
and death.”

  Ah, but how wrong she was!

  DON’T MISS THE

  HARDY BOYS

  ADVENTURES IN COMICS!

  ALL NEW STORIES!

  ALL NEW FULL COLOR COMICS

  a new one every 3 months

  Already out:

  Graphic Novel #1

  “The Ocean of Osyria”

  ISBN 1-59707-001-7

  Graphic Novel #2

  “Identity Theft”

  Beginning an all-new direction for the Hardy Boys, reflecting the story-lines in the upcoming Simon & Schuster revamped Hardy Boys novels, who or what is the mysterious organization known as A.T.A.C.? And how are Frank, Joe, and even Fenton Hardy involved? Are the Hardys leaving Bayport forever? How has Laura Hardy’s life changed? why is Aunt Gertrude acting so strange? Where’s Lola and Callie? Uncover the clues to these questions and more as Frank and Joe take to the skies to crack a diamond-smuggling team of sky-divers and then encounter a young woman whose identity has been stolen—literally! Or at least that’s what a young woman claiming to be Joy Gallagher claims—that another girl is now living her life, with her friends, her family, and in her body! Action, thrill, and lots of mystery!

  ISBN 1-59707-003-3

  Graphic Novel #3: “Mad House”

  ISBN 1-59707-010-6

  All: Pocket sized, 96pp., full color, $7.95

  PAPERCUT

  At your store or order at: 555 8th Ave., Ste. 1202,

  New York, NY 10018, 1-800-886-1223 (M-F 9-6 EST)

  MC, VISA, Amex accepted, add $3 P&H for 1st item, &1 each additional.

  Exciting fiction from three-time

  Newbery Honor author

  Gary Paulsen

  Aladdin Paperbacks and Simon Pulse Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing www.SimonSays.com

  PENDRAGON

  Bobby Pendragon is a seemingly normal fourteen-year-old boy. He has a family, a home, and a possible new girlfriend. But something happens to Bobby that changes his life forever.

  HE IS CHOSEN TO DETERMINE

  THE COURSE OF HUMAN EXISTENCE.

  Pulled away from the comfort of his family and suburban home, Bobby is launched into the middle of an immense, interdimensional conflict involving racial tensions, threatened ecosystems, and more. It’s a journey of danger and discovery for Bobby, and his success or failure will do nothing less than determine the fate of the world….

  PENDRAGON

  by D. J. MacHale

  Book One: The Merchant of Death

  Book Two: The Lost City of Faar

  Book Three: The Never War

  Book Four: The Reality Bug

  Book Five: Black Water

  Coming Soon: Book Six: The Rivers of Zadaa

  From Aladdin Paperbacks · Published by Simon & Schuster