Robot Rescue! Read online

  “So am I,” Joe said, patting his pocket. “I borrowed Dad’s phone to make a video of him.”

  He and Frank squeezed into the crowd. The store was supposed to open at eleven, and it was already eleven fifteen.

  “Maybe they’re unpacking more cones,” Frank suggested.

  After another ten minutes, impatient kids began to shout, “We want Sherbot! We want Sherbot!”

  The door finally opened and the Andersons filed out. None of them were smiling. Not even Holden. What was up?

  “Uh… hi, kids,” Mr. Anderson called out. “Thanks for coming to the big opening, but Sherbot can’t make ice-cream cones today.”

  “No ice cream?” a girl in the crowd shouted.

  “Did Sherbot break?” a boy called out.

  “He didn’t break!” said Holden, stepping forward. “Sherbot can’t make ice cream today because… because… he’s gone!”

  Frank and Joe exchanged confused looks. Had Holden just said gone? Gone where?

  BOTNAPPED!

  Mr. Anderson called out above the puzzled voices. “Thank you all for coming. As soon as we find Sherbot, Robo Freeze will be open for business.”

  Forcing a smile, Mrs. Anderson added, “As our Sherbot was programmed to say… have an ice day!”

  The Andersons went back into the store. It didn’t take long for the disappointed crowd to break up and leave the scene.

  “Let’s find the Len and Barry truck,” one girl said.

  “I’ll bet their ice cream is better than a robot’s, anyway,” her friend grumbled.

  Frank and Joe stood staring at Robo Freeze’s door. Sherbot was missing. And to detectives, missing meant business!

  “Frank, do you think Sherbot walked out of the store?” Joe asked. “By himself?”

  “Maybe. Let’s go inside and see what we can find out.”

  The door to Robo Freeze was closed, but not locked. Frank and Joe slipped inside and looked around. What they saw made their mouths drop open. Not only was Sherbot gone from the counter, the surrounding walls were streaked and splattered with mush!

  Joe gasped. “Holy guacamole!”

  The Andersons stood on one side of the store, their faces grim with worry.

  “Not guacamole,” said Mr. Anderson. “Marshmallow, butterscotch, and strawberry. Ice-cream toppings.”

  “As if poor Sherbot put up a fight!” Mrs. Anderson wailed. “Before he was… botnapped!”

  “Botnapped,” Frank repeated. “So you think Sherbot was taken?”

  “Of course Sherbot was taken,” Holden said. “Our robot was programmed to make ice cream, not unlock a door, open it, and take a hike!”

  “Okay, so when did you first notice that Sherbot was missing?” asked Joe.

  Mr. Anderson pointed to the staircase at the back of the ice-cream parlor. “We live in the apartment above the store,” he explained. “When we came down early this morning, Sherbot was gone.”

  “Did anyone call the police?” Frank asked. “A missing robot is serious.”

  The Andersons all shook their heads, their eyes wide.

  “We don’t want to tell the police,” Mr. Anderson replied. “You see, I’m embarrassed that I forgot to lock the front door last night.”

  “The robot rustler could have walked right in,” said Mrs. Anderson.

  Joe gazed around at the trashed ice-cream parlor. “If you all live above the store, didn’t you hear any noises downstairs?”

  “We’re deep sleepers.” Mr. Anderson sighed. “We don’t even hear each other snoring.”

  Mrs. Anderson wrung her hands nervously. “We have to find our Sherbot, but where do we start?”

  Joe flashed Frank a look that said, I thought they’d never ask! “Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, start with us!”

  “Joe means we’re detectives,” Frank explained. “We’re pretty good at finding missing things.”

  “But you’re just kids,” said Mr. Anderson.

  “Kid detectives,” Joe pointed out. “Mysteries are our name. Who, what, where, when, and why is our game.”

  “Detectives, huh?” Holden said softly while his parents traded weary looks.

  “Oh, go ahead, boys,” Mr. Anderson finally told Frank and Joe after a long silence. “Have fun playing detective.”

  “In the meantime, we’re closing down the store,” said Mrs. Anderson sadly. “What’s Robo Freeze without Sherbot?”

  The Andersons began picking up the napkin and spoon holders that had fallen off the counter. Frank and Joe walked around the tables and chairs toward the door.

  “Play detective. Give me a break,” Joe mumbled. “And I never even got to take a video of Sherbot.”

  He stopped suddenly and pulled the phone from his pocket.

  “Sherbot’s not here,” Frank said as Joe began scanning the wrecked ice-cream parlor with the phone camera. “What are you filming?”

  “The crime scene,” replied Joe with a smile. “And the answer to one of the five Ws. Where the crime took place.”

  The Andersons were now too busy scrubbing the walls with paper towels to notice Joe filming the store from top to bottom, side to side.

  Once outside, Joe replaced the phone in his hand with something he never left home without—the boys’ clue book. “Let’s get to work,” he said, opening the book and pulling out the pencil tucked inside.

  Frank watched as Joe wrote on the top of a clean page: Who’s Got Sherbot? Underneath, he wrote the five Ws. Next to where he wrote, Robo Freeze.

  “Now that we figured out where,” Joe said, “what happened?”

  “All we know so far is that someone took Sherbot out of Robo Freeze,” Frank replied.

  “When was probably during the night or early in the morning,” Joe added. “The Andersons said they came downstairs this morning and Sherbot had already vanished.”

  After listing when, it was time for the only Ws left—who and why. Frank and Joe knew that figuring out one often led to the other.

  “Who would want to take a huge robot out of an ice-cream parlor?” Joe wondered out loud.

  “Someone who wants an ice-cream-making robot,” Frank said. “Someone like Milford Mortimer.”

  “Milford really wanted Sherbot to make ice-cream cones at his birthday party,” Joe pointed out. “And what Milford wants, he usually gets.”

  “Maybe his dad got him Sherbot,” Frank suggested. “He did promise Milford the perfect birthday party. We heard him with our own ears.”

  While Joe started their suspect list, writing down Milford’s name, Frank asked, “Who wouldn’t want an awesome ice-cream-making robot?”

  Wouldn’t? Joe grinned as a new thought clicked into place. “Iola Morton and the Len and Barry Fan Club are not fans of Sherbot!”

  “They didn’t want Sherbot to take customers away from Len and Barry,” said Frank. “So maybe they took Sherbot instead!”

  Joe added the Len and Barry Fan Club to their suspect list. “Two suspects are a good start. Who should we question first?”

  “I say Milford Mortimer. If only we could go to his house and look for Sherbot.”

  “Good luck with that,” Joe said with a snort. “That fancy house has a high gate and a guard outside.”

  He was slipping the clue book into his pocket when—

  “Out of our way, out of our way!” a voice shouted.

  Frank and Joe whirled around to see six-year-old twins Matty and Scotty Zamora hurrying up the sidewalk. Each boy pulled a bright red wagon piled high with boxes from Pizza Palace, their parents’ pizza parlor on Bay Street.

  “What are you guys doing?” asked Joe.

  “What does it look like we’re doing?” Matty snapped as the pair took a break from wheeling. “We’re delivering pizzas!”

  “That many pies?” Frank asked. “Who could eat that many?”

  “These pizzas are for Milton Mortimer’s birthday party,” Scotty said with a smile, “at the biggest house in Bayport!”

  Frank and Joe traded wide-eyed looks. Had Scotty just said Milton Mortimer’s house?

  PARTY ANIMAL

  “So that’s where all those pizzas are going,” Joe said. “Were you invited to the party?”

  “We were,” Matty said with a frown, “but we have to go back to Pizza Palace right after we deliver these pies.”

  “How come?” Frank asked.

  “Mom and Dad need our help.” Scotty sighed. “They want us to twist garlic knots with our sister, Daisy.”

  Matty shook his head. “The high school kid who works at Pizza Palace on Saturdays is home with a cold,” he wailed. “How could he do that to us?”

  The twins started sulking away with their wagons.

  “Wait!” Frank shouted. “Why don’t we deliver the pizzas for you?”

  Joe smiled when he figured out his brother’s plan. “Sure! If you start twisting garlic knots now, you’ll still have lots of time to go to Milford’s party after you finish.”

  Matty and Scotty let the wagon handles drop to the ground. After trading high fives with Frank and Joe, they turned back toward Pizza Palace.

  “Thanks, Hardys!” Matty called over his shoulder. “Tell Milford to save us some birthday cake.”

  “We’ll save him some garlic knots!” Scotty added.

  Frank and Joe picked up the wagon handles and began wheeling the pizza boxes toward the Mortimer mansion.

  “That was some good thinking, Frank,” Joe said. “With this pizza delivery, we can get into Milford’s house and look for Sherbot.”

  “Let’s just hope we can get past the guard!” said Frank.

  A little while later, the brothers stopped their pizza wagons in front of the Mortimer gates, where a guard stood blocking their way. The badge on her uniform read ROBERTA.


  “Oh, the pizzas are here,” she said smiling. “I’ll call Mr. Mortimer to come out to collect them.”

  The brothers froze. That wasn’t their plan. They’d have to think fast.…

  “Um, we’re not just regular pizza delivery guys,” Joe said. “We’re singing pizza delivery guys!”

  “Yeah. It’s our job to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Milford Mortimer,” added Frank. “The whole song.”

  Roberta raised an eyebrow. “I was told there’d be a pizza delivery, not a singing pizza delivery, but okay. You can go in.”

  “Yes!” Joe cheered, then quickly added, “Thank you, ma’am. We appreciate it.”

  Roberta pressed a button to open the gate. “The party is in the backyard,” she said. “Go around the house and you can’t miss it.”

  The house was enormous, so wheeling the wagons around it to the back took longer than the brothers thought it would. When they finally reached the backyard—

  “Whooooaaaaa!” Joe cried.

  Frank gasped. “Roberta was right. Who could miss all this?”

  Spread across the lawn were huge, colorful bouncy castles. Circling one castle was a bouncy moat filled with inflatable sea monsters and dragons.

  On one side of the yard, Frank and Joe spotted Milford dressed in a king’s robe and crown. While the birthday boy sat on a gold-colored throne, his friends sat on the grass. They all watched two armored knights battle with plastic swords. Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer stood side by side watching too, their backs to the Hardys.

  “I think the theme of this party is King Arthur’s court,” said Frank.

  “You mean King Milford’s court!” Joe joked. “Let’s unload the pizzas and look for Sherbot.”

  After stacking the pizza boxes on a snack table, the Hardy brothers parked the wagons underneath. Then they set off on their quest to find Sherbot.

  Milford and his guests were too busy watching the knights to notice Frank and Joe sneaking through the yard.

  “Wow, check out the birthday cake!” Joe exclaimed.

  Frank followed Joe’s gaze. Set up on another table was a huge cake decorated to look like a knight’s sword and shield! “That cake’s awesome, but I don’t see Sherbot making ice cream around here.”

  “Maybe the party’s not ready for ice cream yet,” Joe said. “Maybe Mr. Mortimer has Sherbot hidden as a big surprise!”

  Frank looked around the huge lawn. “Hidden where?”

  Joe wasn’t sure. And then something across the yard caught his eye. “There!” he exclaimed, pointing.

  Frank watched his brother race toward a small silver trailer. Painted across its side was a big letter S.

  “S for Sherbot, Frank!” Joe called. “And it’s sure big enough to hold a robot!”

  “Don’t open it, Joe,” shouted Frank as he ran after his brother. “We don’t know what’s inside!”

  But Joe was already opening the trailer door.

  When he looked inside, he didn’t see a robot. Instead a small brown pony stared back at him. He gave a snort, shook his mane, and let out a loud neighhhhh!

  Joe stepped back as the pony hoofed its way out of the trailer. Milford’s friends pointed and shouted as the pony galloped around the yard.

  “Is that the pony for my party?” Milford called out. “It’s my birthday, and I want to keep him. I want that pony!”

  Milford’s parents watched the pony with wide eyes. Mrs. Mortimer covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming.

  “Why is Sapphire out?” Mr. Mortimer demanded.

  The pony stopped before the dessert table. After another snort, he began munching on the creamy shield-shaped cake.

  “I don’t want him anymore!” Milford said angrily. “He’s eating my birthday cake!”

  “That’s because it’s a carrot cake, Milfy,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “Horses love carrots.”

  “Then I don’t want the cake, either,” Milford said with a frown. “I wanted chocolate!”

  The knights tried coaxing the pony away from the table, but they didn’t seem to be having much luck. Neither did Frank and Joe.

  “You boys over there,” Mr. Mortimer called. “Did you let the party pony out of his trailer?”

  Joe gulped. “Um…”

  “Er…,” Frank began.

  What they really meant was… busted!

  TRUCK STOP

  Frank and Joe trudged over to Mr. Mortimer, heads hanging. They had nothing to say but the truth.

  “Sorry,” Joe said. “I let Sapphire out of his trailer when I was looking for something else.”

  “What could you possibly have been looking for out here?” cried Mr. Mortimer.

  “For Sherbot, the ice-cream-making robot,” Frank answered. “He’s been missing since early this morning.”

  Mr. Mortimer’s brows flew up with surprise. “You mean that robot Milford and I saw yesterday at Robo Freeze? Why would he be here?”

  “Because Milford really wanted Sherbot for his birthday party,” Joe explained. “And since he mostly gets what he wants…”

  “Uh, Joe,” Frank interrupted, his voice low. “I don’t think Sherbot is here.”

  Joe turned to stare at Frank. “Why not?”

  “Because Milford got them instead.”

  Joe looked to see where Frank was pointing. In the distance stood a man and woman dressed in court jester costumes. The bells on their caps jingled as they flipped scoops of ice cream over each other’s heads and under their legs into cones.

  “Wow!” Joe exclaimed.

  Next, using two cones, the woman juggled four scoops in the air. After the ice cream landed precisely—two scoops in each cone—she bowed and handed the cones to a guy wearing a cowboy hat.

  Frank and Joe were so amazed by the ice-cream acrobats, they didn’t notice Milford standing behind them. “Let’s see Sherbot do that!” he sneered. “Who needs an ice-cream-making robot when you can get the famous Scooper Dupers for your birthday party?”

  Mr. Mortimer pointed at the cowboy now licking both ice-cream cones. “And there’s the pony wrangler who should have been watching Sapphire.”

  Joe turned to Frank and said, “You’re right. Milford wouldn’t need Sherbot if he had the Scooper Dupers. They’re pretty awesome.”

  “The Mortimers don’t have Sherbot,” Frank decided. “Let’s get Matty’s and Scotty’s wagons and keep investigating.”

  “Wait!” Milford called out. “How did you get into my party, anyway? I didn’t invite you.”

  “We delivered pies from Pizza Palace,” Joe replied. He nodded toward the snack table. “The pizzas that Sapphire is busy eating.”

  The Mortimers gasped as Sapphire nudged a pizza box open to nibble on the pie inside.

  “I hope he likes pepperoni,” said Frank.

  Milford’s friends laughed and shrieked as Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer and the cowboy charged toward Sapphire. While they tried gently to pull the pony away from the pizzas, the brothers slipped under the table to grab the wagons.

  The Hardys wheeled the wagons out of the yard and away from the house. “That was the biggest birthday party I ever saw!” said Frank.

  “And that pony really takes the cake!” Joe joked.

  Frank and Joe returned the wagons to Pizza Palace. Matty and Scotty had just left for Milford’s party. They also left the brothers six garlic knots for delivering the pies.

  “I was hoping for pizza,” Joe admitted as they carried the knots to their favorite booth by the window, “but it’s lunchtime and my stomach is growling like a dinosaur!”

  After finishing lunch, Joe crossed Milford’s name off the suspect list. “Our only suspects left are the members of the Len and Barry Fan Club.”

  “Should we question them next?” Frank asked.

  Joe looked out the window and pointed to a tie-dyed truck parked outside. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we question Len and Barry first?”

  The brothers left Pizza Palace and headed straight for the truck. Len and Barry weren’t at the window, but Frank and Joe could hear them loud and clear inside.

  “Dude,” Len said. “Our fan club came through for us again.”

  “Totally,” Barry replied. “That robot idea of theirs was excellent!”