Highway Robbery Read online

  The heavy wrench struck the hijacker in the side of the head with a clank, and he pitched forward. Tony dropped to the ground and scrambled for the guy's gun.

  Frank flashed Tony a grin. "Good arm!" he called.

  Meanwhile, Joe parried MacReedy's attempt at a kick to the midsection with his own knee. Grasping the deputy's gun hand with both of his own, Joe twisted it hard and jerked it backward at a painful angle.

  MacReedy yelped and dropped the gun. He pivoted, then threw an awkward roundhouse punch with his left. Joe managed to duck under and step inside the swing, hitting the renegade lawman with a short right cross to the jaw. MacReedy reeled back, and Joe followed up with a left hook just under the rib cage and a looping right uppercut that connected with the deputy's chin.

  MacReedy fell hard and lay still. Joe picked up MacReedy's Magnum, scooping up his service revolver as well. Breathing hard, he looked down at the unconscious deputy. "All right!" he said softly, smiling to himself.

  Bruno had managed to buck Hal Brady off him, but as he got to his feet, Frank clasped his hands together and slammed them down as hard as he could on the back of the gangster's neck. As Bruno collapsed, Tony darted in and grabbed his gun.

  The last of the hijackers, seeing his three partners down, became suddenly aware that he was outgunned and outnumbered. Hastily, he dropped his weapon and raised his hands.

  "Where's Gerard?" growled Brady, looking around. "Where's the little weasel who tried to knock me off? I want a piece of him!"

  "Everybody freeze!" Gerard shouted.

  Joe looked up from the fallen MacReedy and saw that in the midst of all the action and confusion, Gerard had managed to slide over and pick up Turk's automatic. He now stood with his left arm wrapped around Pat Mulvaney's neck. With his right hand, he held the automatic to her head.

  "I'm getting out of here, and this lady is going to drive me. Anyone tries to stop me and she's dead! Let's go, honey. Take it real easy, now."

  Using Pat as a shield, Gerard pushed her over to the Lombard tractor, now "bobtailed" - without a trailer attached. He shoved her up into the cab and followed her.

  "Don't try to follow us," he warned. "I'll shoot her if you do!"

  Prodded by Gerard's gun, Pat started the tractor and steered it from the parking lot, heading for the road.

  "Are we going to let that creep get away?" Hal Brady demanded angrily.

  "We can't risk Pat's life!" Matt shouted, equally angry.

  "He's bluffing," declared Frank. "He won't shoot her while she's driving. Joe, let's move it!"

  He raced for their rental car.

  Joe quickly handed MacReedy's guns to Matt. "Frank's right. He won't risk crashing that rig. Take the guns and keep these goons on ice. Use some of the rope the cargo is secured with to tie 'em up."

  Frank was already in the driver's seat and gunning the engine when Joe jumped in beside him. The car sped off even before his door was fully closed.

  The car had more speed and maneuverability than the tractor, and before long Frank spotted the tractor ahead of them. He quickly closed the distance between them.

  "Pull up alongside and match their speed!" Joe shouted.

  "You going to board it?" Frank asked, accelerating and moving next to the tractor.

  "You bet," Joe replied. His eyes were fixed on the wall of the cab beside him. Opening the car door, he reached out and took hold of one of the metal climbing rungs. Carefully he began to pull himself up until he was able to hook the bottom rung with his right foot.

  Glancing up, he caught a glimpse of Pat's worried face as she stared at the road ahead. Joe pressed hard against the side of the cab, so Gerard wouldn't be able to get a shot at him. He groped for another handhold, toward the back, and a metal bar welded to the chassis provided it. Moving his left foot next to the right, he extended his right leg for a foothold behind the cab. The concrete was whizzing by below him, and seeing it, Joe tightened his grip.

  Using the fifth wheel assembly and the hardware on the back of the tractor, Joe carefully worked his way across the back to the passenger side, fighting the bumping and swaying of the speeding tractor all the way. Then he started his climb toward the door.

  Glancing up, he saw that Gerard had rolled down his window and had his gun outside. Joe ducked behind the rear of the tractor before Gerard could get a shot off.

  Then, planting his foot in a step set into the cab body, Joe reached up for the narrow door that led to the sleeping compartment behind the seats, hoping that it was unlocked. It was, and he opened it. With one quick movement, he pulled himself up by the handle and lunged inside the cab.

  Gerard twisted around and reached his gun over the seat back. When the pistol and hand appeared, Joe seized his wrist. Bending the gun away from Gerard, he yanked hard, pulling him close. Then Joe threw a straight right at Gerard's jaw. The punch traveled only a foot but packed enough power to stun Gerard, who sagged against the back of the seat.

  Joe pulled the automatic from Gerard's unresisting hand.

  "Pull over!" he yelled to Pat.

  As she stopped the rig on the shoulder of the road, Pat scowled at Joe. "That was a dumb stunt to pull!" she exclaimed. "I was all set to jam on the brakes and slam his head into the windshield." Then she smiled. "But thanks, anyway."

  "Don't mention it." Joe grinned back at her. "It's all just part of our regular service. No extra charge. Now let's see where we can find a phone and call some real cops to haul this bunch away."

  "There's one thing I want to know," Pat said, with a thoughtful look. "How did Hal find us in that old restaurant parking lot? Didn't MacReedy grab you and Frank right after you got off the highway?"

  "Yeah, he did."

  "Well?" she demanded, looking impatient. When Joe still didn't answer, Pat said, "Are you going to talk, or just sit there with that self-satisfied smile on your face?"

  "Okay, okay, don't get all feisty. MacReedy couldn't see under the dash on that car from the backseat. So I knocked the CB radio's mike loose with my knee and poked at it with my foot till I hit the transmitting button. Then I said the name of the restaurant and tried to signal Hal that MacReedy had us. I just had to hope Hal knew where the Coach House restaurant was."

  "And that MacReedy wouldn't see your move with the CB and that Hal would hear what you were saying and that he'd figure out what had gone down." Frank had parked the car and climbed up on Pat's side of the cab in time to hear Joe's explanation. "Pretty thin stuff. I wouldn't pat myself on the back too hard."

  "Hey!" exclaimed Joe. "The bottom line is, it worked, right?"

  "Just barely," Frank replied. "We almost bought it today."

  "Almost doesn't count," Joe said with a grin. "This isn't horseshoes. Help me haul Gerard out of here and get him into the back of the car, and then let's find that phone."

  ***

  Leaving the truck where it was for the time being, the three took the rental car and drove ahead to a gas station to call the state police. By the time they got back to the parking lot of the Coach House, the first squad cars were rolling in. The troopers were busy taking statements from Matt, Tony, and Brady and replacing the ropes that had been used to tie up the thugs with handcuffs.

  When the Hardys and Pat rolled into the lot, Tony and Matt left off talking to the officers and ran over to greet them.

  "You all right?" Matt asked anxiously. "How did you do it?"

  "Where's Gerard?" demanded Hal Brady, coming up to the car.

  "Trussed up back there with Joe covering him," Frank answered, pointing to the backseat as he got out of the car. "Everything okay here?"

  More troopers arrived on the scene, and two of them took charge of Lou Gerard. Two more were bandaging the groggy Turk, who had regained consciousness and seemed to have suffered nothing worse than severe bruises and scrapes.

  Joe shook his head at Brady. "You sure took your time getting here. An old gearjammer like you, I figured you would burn rubber and be right on our tail when we
pulled in here."

  "Get off my case!" yelped Brady in mock rage. "I wasn't sure where the Coach House was, exactly. I had to try a few blind alleys before I lucked out. And I thought I did pretty well just to work out that message you gave me on the CB."

  "You did just great," Matt assured the trucker. You can haul freight for me anytime. Both of you," he added, turning to include Pat. "You're both my top drivers - at least, until Mike is able to team a rig again."

  "Fair enough," Brady replied. "I had you pegged all wrong, Matt, and I'm sorry about that."

  "That's in the past, now," Matt assured him. Then he reached out and hugged Tony.

  "Nephew," he said, "I owe you, too. You're responsible for bringing in Frank and Joe, and you pitched in and did your share when things got rough."

  "Aw, hey, forget it," Tony said. He tried to appear casual, but he was clearly delighted by his uncle's compliments.

  "Forget it? No way!" Matt hollered. "You have a reward coming, and I don't want to hear any arguments! Let's see, now - you couldn't by any chance use an Ultratech CD player, could you?"

  Tony dropped his casual air, and his eyes opened wide. "Could I? That's - you're - "

  "Cut it out," Matt said gruffly. "You earned it. I still have a business, thanks to you - and to these two here."

  He turned to Frank and Joe. "What can I say? You saved my bacon, fellas. Anything I can do for you, you got it. All you have to do is ask. Go ahead, name it."

  "Well - " Frank said after a moment. "We figure getting involved in a case like this is enough reward. Putting guys like MacReedy and Gerard and the rest behind bars is enough satisfaction."

  "Joe, does that go for you, too?" asked Matt. "Or would you like to learn more about big rigs? We could teach you."

  "Uh - I mean, trucks are really interesting and all, but to tell you the truth, I already know as much about trucks as I want to. And anyway," Joe went on, "like Frank says, we don't accept rewards.

  "Besides," he added, smiling, "I figure a date with Teri is a nice bonus. So I guess we're all square."

  "Well, there's one thing I want to do," Matt said, "and I'm not taking no for an answer."

  "What's that?" Frank asked.

  "You're coming to dinner one night next week. My wife makes the best chicken cacciatore in the state. That invitation goes for all of you," he added, looking at Pat, Tony, and Hal Brady.

  Joe laughed. "You talked us into it," he said. "We'll be there."

  "And bring your appetites," Matt went on. "We're celebrating the rescue of Lombard Hauling!"

  ***

  The next day the Hardys were at the mall, splitting a pizza with Tony Prito.

  "I hooked up that CD player last night," Tony told them, putting down his half-eaten slice. "I'm telling you, it sounds unbelievable!"

  "That's great, Tony," said Joe. Suddenly, Joe caught sight of someone over Tony's shoulder. He nudged his brother, who was sitting next to him.

  "Look who's here," he said quietly.

  Frank looked around. Jeff Lanier had just come into Mr. Pizza. With a quick wink at Tony, Frank called, "Hey, Jeff! Over here!"

  Jeff saw them, gave a casual wave, and strolled over.

  "What's happening?" he asked. "Tony, did you buy one of those CD players at that warehouse? Were those prices unreal, or what?"

  "They were unreal, all right," Frank said.

  "But I didn't buy one," Tony went on.

  "No? How come?" Jeff asked, smiling. "Still too much money for you?"

  "It wasn't that," Tony told him. "I just don't like dealing in stolen merchandise."

  Jeff's mouth dropped open. "Stolen - what - hey, come on, you guys, cut it out. That's not funny."

  "No joke," Joe said, giving Jeff a serious look. "That's why the prices were so low. Everything for sale there was hot. You bought stolen goods, Jeff."

  Jeff licked his lips, looking suddenly very nervous. "Well, I didn't know - I mean - "

  "Ignorance is no excuse, Jeff," Frank said.

  "You could be in real trouble," Tony added, being careful not to smile.

  Beads of sweat broke out on Jeff's forehead.

  "You're seventeen, right, Jeff?" asked Joe.

  Jeff nodded.

  Frank let out a low whistle. "That means you can be tried as an adult."

  Joe put on a solemn face. "Uh - oh. And you know, the stuff they make you wear in prison is really the pits. The worst."

  Jeff's normally pale skin now looked gray. "I'll - I'll give it back. I didn't know! Honest!"

  Tony couldn't hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing, and Frank and Joe joined in.

  Jeff just stared at them for a minute. Then he got mad.

  "Real funny, you guys!" he muttered, and stalked away.

  "Hey, really, Jeff," Frank called out after him, "better turn that CD player in to the sheriff. It's evidence in a crime investigation."

  Jeff stopped but didn't turn back. Then he walked out of Mr. Pizza.

  When the laughter died down, Tony asked, "You think the police'll give it back to him?"

  "No way," Joe answered. "If he'd thought about it at all, he'd have realized it was very suspicious."

  Tony sat back. "So I wind up with a CD player, and he winds up with zip."

  Frank picked up a piece of pizza. "It just goes to show you, it always pays to be on the right side of the law."

  Joe nodded agreement. Then he said, "But I have to say, that was a 'hot' sweater Jeff was wearing."

  The other customers in Mr. Pizza looked at them curiously as the three boys broke into loud laughter all over again.

  The End.

  Frank and Joe's next case:

  A San Diego comic-book convention turns into a real blast when guest speaker Barry Johns, legendary publisher of Zenith Comics, is kidnapped. But the Hardys can hardly believe their eyes. Johns is abducted by two characters straight off the illustrated page - the Human Dreadnought and Flame Fiend!

  Frank and Joe's investigation leads them into a confrontation with a rogues' gallery of comic-book villains come to life, each armed with sinister, super-sophisticated powers. But the boys are determined to have the last laugh by unmasking the criminal mastermind behind the crazy comic-book caper ... in The Last Laugh, Case #42 in The Hardy Boys Casefiles®.