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  "Then we give Ferris the evidence and information we have already, and hope it's enough."

  It took nearly half an hour to clean up the jeep and check the tires for punctures. When they finished, it was nearly five o'clock.

  "Look for a red Cadillac convertible," Frank said as they pulled up to the far end of the Johnson lumberyard's parking lot. The three of them scanned the lot, but the Cadillac wasn't there.

  "Now what?" said Callie.

  "Now you go ask the guard where CoHins is," Frank said simply.

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  '*I what?"

  'Tell him you're his parole officer. You need to have him sign some papers right away, or he's in big trouble. Act angry," Frank said, fighting a grin.

  Callie hesitated. ''I don't look much like a parole officer after rolling around in the mud," she pointed out.

  ''Come on, Callie, we have faith in you," Joe prodded, grinning. "The guards will never recognize you without a hard hat on. We'll wait here."

  Shaking her head, Callie climbed out of the backseat and headed across the parking lot toward the guard's post by the gate. A few minutes later she was back again. Frank was amused to see her walking primly, with a frown on her face, as though she'd taken on the character of a parole officer and now she couldn't shake it off.

  "Where to, boss?" Frank asked as Joe put the jeep into gear.

  "Sector eight," Callie answered mysteriously. "Collins is out inspecting log flumes. I know the sectors from inspecting the forests with Uncle Stan. They're numbered one through ten, with number one closest to the mill. Go straight on the access road until I tell you to turn."

  As they drove along the muddy, heavily rutted road, Frank looked for CoUins's red Caddy. "I can't wait to return this jeep to the rental counter now," Joe remarked glumly as he, too,

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  searched through the trees. *'Let's see, should we tell them a plane wandered off its flight path and flew straight through our windshield? Or maybe the Abominable Snowman turned up and sat on it."

  ''Don't worry," said Frank. "If we solve this case the rental agent will know who we are. And of course we'll pay for any damage not covered by the insurance."

  "Sssh!" Calhe interrupted, staring to the right and ahead of the car. 'There it is!"

  Following Callie's orders, Joe turned right onto a still narrower dirt road. The Cadillac was parked beside a tractor-trailer loaded with metal pipes. The big truck sat next to a large trestle of wood and steel that supported a V-shaped wooden log flume that logs sped down on their way to the sawmill.

  "Wow, I've never seen one of these outside an amusement park," Joe said. Frank studied how the flume was built beside a creek that flowed down toward the sawmill. A mechanical pump channeled water into the flume, so that even the largest logs could float down the V-shaped wooden tray to the sawmill. They picked up speed as they coursed downhill.

  "I don't see Collins," Frank said to Joe. "Cal-lie, keep a lookout. Let's get to work, fast!"

  As Frank and Joe clambered out of the jeep and ran over to the Cadillac, Caliie climbed onto the roof of the tractor-trailer's cab to get a better view of the surrounding forest.

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  ''Any blood on the backseat?" Frank asked Joe as he reached beneath the driver's seat, finding nothing.

  "No. If he took Buster to the Horizon mill in here, he must have put a blanket under him," Joe replied. Then he added, "Bingo! Frank, I found it!"

  Frank raised his head over the front seat to see Joe kneeling on the floor behind him. He'd opened a metal tool chest that was stashed behind the driver's seat. The top tray was removed, and Joe held a shiny object half-wrapped in an oily rag.

  "What is it?" Frank demanded.

  Gleefully, Joe shook the object until the rag fell back, revealing the find to Frank.

  "The key ring!" Frank said, a grin spreading across his face. "We've got Collins now, Joe!"

  "Not quite!" growled a low voice.

  The hair rose on the back of Frank's neck as he slowly turned toward the voice. He knew without looking what he'd find there.

  It was Rafe Collins, in camouflage, standing beside the trailer load of pipes. He was pointing a rifle straight at Frank. Frank stared at Collins's index finger as it tightened on the trigger.

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  15

  "Get out of the car," Collins told Frank and Joe. "Don't make any sudden moves."

  The Hardys stared at the angry, hawk-nosed man in the dim light of the forest. Behind him, Joe ghmpsed Callie's hand waving to get the boys' attention from the far end of the trailer truck.

  Frank's intent, watchful expression revealed that he had noticed Callie, too.

  "Let's go," Collins barked. "I don't want to get any bullet holes in my Cadillac."

  "Looks like it could use a little work," Joe muttered as, hands up, he stepped out of the car. "I guess this mountain life just isn't good for it."

  Collins stared at him, unsure whether Joe had insulted him or not. "You've got a smart mouth,

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  kid," he said at last. *'You'd better watch out or I just might shut it for you."

  *'Don't you have to ask Johnson's permission first?" Frank asked pointedly.

  Joe watched as CoUins's squinty eyes got even narrower. '*Keep talking, wiseguys," Collins muttered. ''You're only making it worse for yourselves."

  Joe kept stalling so that Callie could make her move. "You're in a big hurry to shoot us, aren't you, Collins? You think that's going to solve all your problems?"

  "That would be a big mistake," Frank said, following Joe's lead. "At least before you find out who we've talked to and what we told them."

  "Shut up!" Collins exploded. Waving the rifle back and forth between them, he snarled, "Where's the girl?"

  Joe saw Callie make an "okay" sign with her thumb and forefinger from atop the pipes at the far end of the trailer. Then she stood up and shoved with all her strength on the end of one pipe.

  "All right!" Joe shouted. The pipe shot out and struck Collins on the right shoulder, sending him pitching forward. As Collins stumbled to his knees, his rifle swung up. Joe pounced.

  "Grab the rifle!" he yelled at his brother as he grappled with the man on the forest floor. Frank leapt forward and grabbed the barrel of the rifle. Wrestling it upward, Frank tried to

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  force the rifle out of Collins's hands. But in the next instant the foreman sent Joe flying with one arm and shoved the rifle stock into Frank's stomach with the other.

  With a grunt, Frank collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

  "Joe!" Callie called from the top of the trailer.

  Dazed, Joe looked up from where he'd fallen to watch, horrified, as Collins lifted his rifle and aimed it directly at Frank.

  Joe leapt to his feet and fell onto CoUins's back, sending him sprawling sideways with the rifle an arm's length away.

  '*Watch it, Collins!" Joe taunted, grabbing the rifle and flinging it into the bushes. "You almost hurt yourself!" He danced from side to side, trying to draw attention away from his brother.

  "So you got rid of my gun, eh?" Collins growled. "That's okay." Collins staggered toward Joe. "A knife fight's more my style anyway."

  Whipping a knife out of a leather sheath that hung from his belt, Collins feinted at Joe. Joe jumped back, and the ex-convict slashed his knife sideways in a glittering, underhanded sweep that missed Joe's stomach by inches.

  "Especially if the other guy doesn't have one," Joe retorted. He danced backward, farther and farther away from Frank. Collins took the bait, running after Joe and slashing the air between them with his gleaming blade.

  "Frank! Callie! Get out of here!" Joe shouted

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  as he worked his way backward, always a step from Collins's vicious slashes. Behind Collins, Joe watched as Callie raced over to Frank and helped him up.

  ''Run for the jeep!" Joe cal
led as he moved away from the flashing blade.

  Collins spun around to see Callie and Frank getting away. Enraged, he charged toward them, cutting off their path to the jeep.

  Joe ran after Collins as fast as he could. Just as he was prepared to lunge at the foreman again, though, Collins turned and brandished the knife in his face.

  ''Come on, kid," Collins shouted. "Try me!"

  As Joe and Collins circled each other in a deadly game of tag, Joe's eye was caught by a group of tree trunks floating quickly down the flume. They gave him an idea.

  "Frank, Callie, run to the log flume! Ride a log to get away!" Joe shouted.

  Keeping himself between Collins and Frank and Calhe, Joe backed toward the flume. He circled to avoid Collins's blade, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder until the flume came into full view.

  Frank, weak but determined, was already standing on the edge of the two-foot-deep flume. As Joe watched in quick glimpses, Frank and Callie jumped aboard the next log that rumbled by. Holding their arms out and keeping their legs flexed for balance, they slid down the man-made stream. Collins moved forward again, and Joe

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  lost sight of them as he concentrated on getting away.

  ''It's all right, kid," Collins growled as he tried to force Joe back against a pine tree. "They can get away. I still have you to hold hostage."

  "You wish, Collins," Joe said, ducking out of the foreman's reach. The flume was only a few steps behind him now. "When I get out of here I'm going straight to the sheriff," Joe taunted. "Your days of freedom are numbered."

  Just before Joe reached the flume, Collins made a quick lunge at him. Joe slammed a karate chop down on Collins's wrist. But the blow failed to knock the knife loose from his hand. Doubly enraged, Collins now charged at the boy with his knife raised above his head.

  A sudden roaring noise warned Joe that another log was on its way down. He turned in time to see the huge log appear in the flume. As it passed, Joe sprang up and landed awkwardly on the slick bark, faced in the wrong direction.

  Thrilled to get away from the deranged murderer, Joe maintained his balance and slowly turned around to face the front on the swiftly moving log.

  "Cool," he said to himself as the dusky landscape surged past. "It's like catching a monster wave at the beach!"

  Moments later the flume began to level out. Up ahead, Joe could see that it emptied into a dammed-up backwater. As Joe's log sped

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  toward the pool of still water, Joe prepared for the rough landing. At the end of the flume, the log dropped out from under him, and Joe flew through the air to land in the water with a splash.

  He sank down through the water, then bobbed back up to the surface. He shook the water out of his hair and hooted triumphantly. He spotted Frank and Callie watching from a huge log boom—a raft of five dozen huge tree trunks lashed together and chained to a spotlighted dock.

  ''We made it!" Joe cried as he swam toward them. "You were great, Callie!" He reached the edge of the boom and grabbed the nearest log to try to pull himself up. But the wood was too slippery.

  "How about a hand here?" he called.

  Joe was surprised when Frank and Callie didn't move to help him.

  "Are you guys deaf? I asked for a hand up!"

  As Joe tried to scramble up on the slippery log by himself, he saw that someone was standing up behind Callie and Frank.

  It was Bo Johnson.

  Johnson stepped nimbly over to Joe's log and whipped a snub-nosed revolver out of his belt.

  "Sure, kid," he said as he shoved it in Joe's face. "I'll give you a hand—right into your grave!"

  Joe cast a quick glance in Frank's direction.

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  A discreet nod told him Frank was ready for action.

  ''I can't get up," Joe said to Johnson in a casual voice. "Really—can you help me up?"

  "Not a chance, kid," Johnson snapped. "I'm not that dumb."

  "Let me help," Frank said quietly, taking a step toward Johnson.

  Johnson wheeled around, pointing the gun at Frank. "Stay where you are!"

  It was a perfect chance, and Joe took it. Pushing down on the log, he shot up out of the water, grabbed Johnson around the upper body, and pinned his arms to his sides. At the same time, Frank slammed into Johnson from the other side, and Joe, Frank, and Johnson fell backward into the dark green water of the millpond.

  As soon as they hit the water, Frank was separated from his brother and the mill owner. For long, frightening seconds, he struggled to find them in the murky water beside the massive logs. Finally out of breath, he swam to the surface and saw his brother pop up at the same time. Callie cried out, "Joe! Watch out!" as Bo Johnson lunged at Joe from behind. Joe turned and struck out. He caught Johnson on the side of the head and watched as he fell backward, striking his head on a floating log. He slid silently beneath the surface of the water.

  "Catch him!" Frank ordered. "Otherwise he'll drown."

  Joe and Frank towed the unconscious sawmill

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  owner back toward the raft, where Callie stood watching. Frank kept Johnson afloat while Joe cUmbed onto the raft. Then he and Callie hauled Johnson aboard and laid him on his side. Johnson drew a deep, shuddery breath, then pushed himself up on his elbows.

  Frank pulled himself up onto the raft and walked over to Johnson. ''Can you stand, Mr. Johnson?" he asked as he helped him up. ''Good. Then you can come with us to see Sheriff Ferris.''

  Johnson coughed again. "You'll never get me there."

  "Who's going to stop us?" Joe asked as they led Johnson across the log boom toward the dock. "You can't, and your hired thug, ColHns, is back up the mountain."

  "Your first mistake was underestimating us, Johnson," Frank said. He quickly added, "Your second one was trying to frame a friend of ours. Now it's payback time."

  "Don't be so sure your plans will work out so perfectly," Johnson said.

  Callie interrupted. "How will we get out of here?"

  "We'll use Johnson's car," Joe replied. "I'm sure he won't mind giving us a lift to Ferris's office."

  In the distance Joe heard a car approaching. It sounded like someone was playing the radio. The sound grew louder and Joe spotted a large

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  red car speeding down the access road to the dock.

  ''Here comes the cavalry," Johnson said smugly.

  The red Cadillac squealed to a stop at the base of the dock, and Rafe Collins hopped out. Beaming at the Hardys, Collins went around to the trunk of the car, opened it, and pulled out a chainsaw with the longest blade Joe had ever seen.

  "Howdy, kids!" he called as he reached forward to thumb the starter switch on. "It's wood-shop time!"

  As Callie and the Hardys stared in horror, the chainsaw started up with an ear-splitting roar.

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  16

  "Scatter!" Frank ordered.

  *'What about Johnson?" Joe shouted.

  'Torget Johnson!" Frank shouted back. ''Save yourself!"

  ColHns jumped off the end of the dock and landed easily on the log boom. Frank stared in horror as he moved to within thirty feet of Joe, who stubbornly held on to Johnson.

  Suddenly Johnson's elbow shot back and jabbed into Joe's stomach. Joe let go of Johnson and doubled over in pain. But Joe knew he had to act fast.

  He straightened up and slammed Johnson in the jaw with a sudden uppercut. Silently Johnson collapsed to the floor of the raft.

  The instant Johnson dropped, Collins charged Joe with the chainsaw. Callie screamed, but

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  Frank remained perfectly still, tensed for action. The big saw looked heavy, he observed, but Collins had the strength to swing its blade around in wide, dangerous slashes.

  As Collins drew close to Joe, Frank's eyes darted around him in search of something to use as a weapon. At last he spotted two rusty pea-veys leaning against the side of the
dock. Six-foot poles topped with long pointed spikes and a bared hook, peaveys were used by loggers to manhandle the logs in the water. But Frank had another use for them.

  Behind Collins's back, Frank dashed over to the peaveys, picking up one in each hand. ''Catch, Joe!" he shouted, hurling the peavey in his left hand Hke a javelin. It sailed past Collins to Joe, who caught it in both hands.

  Joe instantly turned the peavey against Col-Hns, holding it out in front of him like a spear. With a laugh, Collins dodged the peavey's point and swung his chainsaw blade around to lop off its head. The sharp steel tip hit the log beneath their feet with a dull thud.

  ''Too bad, son!" Collins jeered as Joe retreated several steps, still holding the pole out before him. Collins slashed his sawblade in a Z-shaped pattern, cutting off another foot of Joe's pole. "Better give up now!"

  Collins was so occupied with cornering Joe that he failed to notice Frank charging toward him from behind. Slamming the peavey straight down over Collins's shoulder, Frank used the

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  peavey like a crowbar to pry the chainsaw from the foreman's hands.

  Frank and Joe watched, fascinated, as the huge chainsaw went skidding over the edge of the log boom into the water and sank in a trail of oily bubbles.

  ''You!" Collins roared, turning his rage on Frank. But Frank was ready for him. He swung the peavey down on ColUns's shoulder, then brought up the butt end of the pole and struck the foreman in the stomach. Callie and Joe watched, frozen, as Collins staggered backward into the pool.

  "He's drowning!" Callie shouted as Frank and Joe watched Collins flounder in the water. Frank grabbed the peavey and snagged the collar of Colhns's shirt with the hook.

  "Had enough, Collins?" Frank asked.

  Collins glared at the Hardys. Then he nodded sullenly.

  The next morning Frank was still sore from the previous day's adventures as he sat at Sheriff Ferris's desk, sipping a soda. Joe sat on one side of Frank, with Callie on the other. Stan Shaw stood, leaning against the wall next to Callie.