Can you solve the mystery? How did Frank figure out what happened?
And, most importantly, who took the Bandits’ playbook?
THE HARDY BOYS–and
YOU!
CAN YOU SOLVE THE MYSTERY OF THE MISSING PLAYBOOK?
Grab a piece of paper and write your answers down. Or just turn the page to find out!
1. Frank and Joe came up with a list of suspects. Can you think of more? List your suspects.
2. Write down the way you think the brand-new Bayport Bandits’ playbook disappeared.
3. Which clues helped you to solve this mystery? Write them down.
Chapter 10
PLAY BALL!
“Wait, what?” Joe said, glancing at Frank as he dropped his controller too.
“I figured out who stole the playbook!” Frank repeated. “Well, not stole it exactly.”
Iola paused the game. “Well? Tell us!”
“I can do better than that,” Frank declared. “I can show you.”
Frank ran up the stairs to the second floor of the Mortons’ home, followed by Joe, Chet, and Iola. He turned left at the top of the stairs and headed to Mimi’s room, which had a pink and purple sign on the door bearing her name. Frank knocked, and Mimi—dressed in her ballet uniform—opened the door.
She cocked her head at them. “What do you want?”
“Can we come in for a second?” Frank asked.
She let them inside and Chet asked, “What’s going on, Frank?”
“Mimi, do you remember what you were doing the night of the Bandits’ party?” Frank asked.
The little girl nodded. “Me and the other little kids were playing.”
“Where?” Frank asked.
“In the living room, mostly.”
“On the floor,” Frank said. “Just like you were downstairs just now, right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “So?”
“So a lot of people tripped over you, didn’t they?” he asked.
“I guess,” she said. “You stepped on my coloring book.”
“I sure did,” Frank agreed. He turned to the others. “It was right after I came inside to get a new trash bag. I tripped over Mimi, went into the kitchen for the bag, and when I came out, the Jupiters were gone. That’s when you took that picture of me, Chet.”
“The one that showed that the playbook was still on the coffee table,” Chet said.
“Right,” Frank said. “The playbook was still on the coffee table after I got the new trash bag, but sometime between then and the end of the night, it disappeared. Mimi, do you remember what happened after I tripped over you and stepped on your book?”
Mimi nodded. “Mom made me and the other kids move to Speedy’s bedroom so we wouldn’t be in the way.”
“What did you have to do in order to move?” Frank asked.
“Put my toys and stuff into my backpack.”
“Oh!” Joe said. “I get it! Mimi, where do you keep all your toys?”
Mimi pointed to a small chest underneath her window.
“Do you mind if we look in it?” Joe asked.
She shrugged. “I guess not.”
Joe opened the chest, and he and Frank rifled through it. There were dozens of stuffed animals, building blocks, action figures, and coloring books. And then, near the bottom, sandwiched between two coloring books, was a bright-red notebook with PLAYBOOK written on the front in block letters. Frank held it up in triumph.
“You found it!” Iola shrieked. She gave Frank and Joe high fives.
Chet laughed. “So Mimi stole the playbook?”
Frank smiled. “Not on purpose. Mimi can’t read yet. When her mom told her to pack her things and move to the bedroom, she accidentally grabbed it along with her coloring books.”
“Oops!” Mimi said, giggling. “Sorry!”
Everyone laughed, and Chet gave his youngest sister a hug and assured her it was okay.
“Case closed!” Frank said.
Well, not quite. First they had to return the playbook. At baseball practice the next day, Coach Quinn started with her usual pep talk and instructions. Before she could finish, though, Frank raised his hand.
“Yes, Frank?” the coach asked.
“I was just wondering,” Frank said, reaching into his bag, “if you were still looking for this?”
He showed her the playbook, and the team erupted into applause. Coach Quinn took the playbook back with a big smile.
“Good work, Frank!” she said happily. “You found it!”
“With Joe and Chet’s help,” Frank said.
“Well, in that case,” Coach Quinn said, “I think I’ll have to treat my whole team—and the team’s official photographer—to ice cream cones after practice!”
The team cheered, and Chet snapped a picture.
“Okay, everyone!” Coach Quinn clapped her hands. “Let’s get to work!”
As everyone was moving to their positions to start practice, Frank and Joe caught up to Tommy Dawson.
“Hey, Tommy,” Joe said. “I’m sorry I accused you of stealing the playbook with no proof.”
Tommy sighed. “It’s okay. I was being a real jerk about Speedy. I would have suspected me too.”
“So, friends?” Joe asked.
Tommy grinned. “You bet.”
After baseball practice, Frank and Joe went into the woods behind their house and climbed the rope ladder to their hidden tree house. Joe took out their notebook and a pen.
“I’m glad Tommy wasn’t the person who took it,” Frank said.
“Me too,” said Joe. “And I am really happy we cracked this case!”
Don’t miss the next
HARDY BOYS
Clue Book:
#3 WATER-SKI WIPEOUT
As the tour bus pulled up outside the lodge, Frank and Joe Hardy could see the lake in the distance. Bucks Mountain, the tallest mountain near their hometown, Bayport, was right behind it.
“You think we could hike all the way to the top?” Frank asked, turning to his younger brother.
“It’s probably too steep,” eight-year-old Joe replied. “Besides, don’t you want to spend all day out on the boat? That’s why I brought the skis.”
Nine-year-old Frank looked at the luggage rack above them. His brother’s new water skis were tied together on the roof with a bright blue strap. Last summer Joe had started water-skiing at camp. In just a few weeks, he’d gotten really good. He even tried to ski for a few seconds on just one ski—even though he usually ended up in the water! Joe was so excited about it, this year their parents had bought him his very own set of skis for his birthday. And it was just in time for the third and fourth graders’ school trip to Lake Poketoe. This would be the very first time he used them.
“You’ll have to teach me,” Frank said. “I doubt I’ll be as good as you.”
Ellie Freeman’s head popped up over the seat in front of them. She was wearing her Bayport Bandits T-shirt. She was on their baseball team, and she liked wearing the uniform even when she didn’t have to. “You promised to teach me, too,” she said, looking at Joe. “I want to learn how to do a flip!”
Joe laughed. “Like the professionals do? That’s really hard. I don’t think I’m going to be able to do that for a while!”
The bus came to a stop, and Ellie hopped out of her seat. She grabbed her duffel bag from the rack above. “I guess I can try. . . . Are you guys going to the barbecue tonight?”
“You bet,” Joe said. “Mr. Morton promised he’d make his famous smoked ribs.” Mr. Morton, their good friend Chet’s dad, was one of the parents who had come along on the school trip. Suzie Klein’s mother had also come, but as far as Joe knew, she didn’t make the ribs as good as Mr. Morton’s.
Joe reached for the water skis, but they came down with a clatter as he tried to take them down.
“Ow! Watch it, Hardys.”
Frank and Joe turned around to see Adam Ackerman in the seat behind them. Adam was in Frank’s grade at sch
ool. He was sitting with his friend Paul. Adam was on the aisle, and he kept rubbing the side of his head.
“You hit me with those stupid skis!” Adam complained. He stood up, yanking his bag down with a huff. “You’re going to pay for that, Hardy.”
He pushed past them, nearly knocking Joe over. Paul followed close behind. He was a short boy with a large, round face. He always wore his brown baseball cap turned to the side. “Watch your back, Hardy,” he grumbled.
“Just ignore them,” Frank said. “It’s not worth it.”
But Joe’s cheeks were hot. He felt like everyone on the bus was staring at him. “Let’s go,” he said, careful not to knock anyone else with the skis.
Adam was one of the biggest bullies at Bayport Elementary. He was taller than most of the kids and was always saying mean things or pushing people around. Frank and Joe tried to stay away from him, but even they had trouble with him sometimes.
The Hardys followed Ellie out of the bus, looking at the lake in front of them. A few kids had dropped their bags on the rocky beach. They crowded around Mrs. Jones, one of the parents who had come on the trip. She gave them directions as to which cabins were theirs. Frank and Joe found out they’d be staying in the lodge itself.
Just hearing the birds chirping put Joe in a better mood. The afternoon sun was out and the water looked cool and refreshing. A few yards away, a boat was zipping across the lake. A girl was in an inner tube behind it, screaming as it pulled her along.
“Frank and Joe Hardy! What a pleasant surprise!” Mrs. Rodriguez called out from the lodge. She’d been Joe’s second-grade teacher, and she was one of the adults who’d come on the other bus. It was funny to see her in plaid shorts and a pink T-shirt. Joe hadn’t ever seen her outside the classroom!
“This is the best!” Joe called out. “Glad we caught the last few hours of sunshine.”
“It’s good to have you here, just in case. . . . You never know what might happen!” Mrs. Rodriguez smiled. Just a few months ago Joe and Frank had helped her find a ring that she’d lost. She’d thought someone at school had stolen it, but the boys figured out that wasn’t true. They eventually found it in one of her desk drawers.
It wasn’t the first case they’d solved, though. Frank and Joe were known around Bayport for solving mysteries. Once it was a lost video game, and another time it was a missing playbook. Their father, Fenton Hardy, was a private detective. He’d taught them everything they knew about investigating. He showed them how to interview suspects and search a crime scene for clues.
Joe dragged his water skis behind him. He was happy the path to the lodge wasn’t that long—the bag was getting heavy! They followed the rest of their group into the lodge. There was a huge living room with couches. A few deer heads were on the wall above the fireplace.
“Whoa,” Frank whispered. “That’s kind of creepy.”
“It’s like a real log cabin,” Joe said. He pointed to the ceiling, where you could see all the wood beams. It reminded him of the toys he and Frank played with when they were really little.
Frank looked out the back windows, toward the lake. There were a few smaller cabins there, hidden in the trees. He saw Adam and Paul go into one of them with their bags. The sign over the door said PINECONE CABIN.
Just then Chet Morton came down the hallway. “Did you guys pick your bunks yet?” he asked. “You should come check out our room! We left you a top and bottom bunk!”
They followed him down the hall, to a room with two sets of bunk beds. Mr. Morton was sitting on one. He pulled a jar of red stuff from his bag. “My secret rib sauce!” He smiled. “I’ll need this for tonight.”
Frank and Joe laughed. “I call dibs on the top bunk!” Joe declared. He looked around, realizing there wasn’t a good place to leave his skis. “Where should I put these?” he asked. “They take up the whole room.”
“There’s a shed out back,” Chet said. “Here, I’ll show you.”
As Chet ran out the door, his dad called after him. “You can go explore, but make sure you’re back in an hour. Dinner will be served!”
Chet showed Frank and Joe the storage shed behind the lodge. There were a dozen other cabins around it. Joe put his skis inside, next to a pile of life vests. Then the boys followed Chet down to the dock.
“Wow, there are kayaks!” Frank said.
“And we can use that tomorrow morning,” Chet added, pointing to a white speedboat tied to the dock. “Joe, remember, you promised me you’d teach me to water ski!”
“He promised you . . . and me . . . and Ellie . . . and half the school,” Frank laughed. “It’s going to be a long day.”
Joe smiled as they walked back to the lodge. A crowd had gathered on the deck. Mr. Morton, Mrs. Rodriguez, and some of the other adults were cooking dinner. Some kids were sitting at the round tables, drinking lemonade. Ellie and a few of her friends were tossing a softball back and forth on the grass below.
As the sun set, Joe could almost picture what it would be like tomorrow. All his friends would be out on the boat. He’d teach them how to do different tricks on his water skis. Maybe they’d even go tubing after.
“Who’s ready to eat?” Mr. Morton called out. A bunch of kids cheered.
Joe, Frank, and Chet all cheered along with them. One thing was certain: this was going to be the best school trip yet.
Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys series of books.
Matt David is a part-time illustrator and full-time clue finder, and lives and works in San Francisco. He solves mysteries with his trusty pencil and the help of his wife, son, and clever cat.
ALADDIN
Simon & Schuster, New York
VISIT US AT
SIMONANDSCHUSTER.COM/KIDS
authors.simonandschuster.com/Franklin-W-Dixon
authors.simonandschuster.com/Matt-David
Don’t miss any of the cases in the Hardy Boys Clue Book series!
#1: The Video Game Bandit
Coming Soon
#3: Water-Ski Wipeout
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This Aladdin hardcover edition April 2016
Text copyright © 2016 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Matt David
Also available in an Aladdin paperback edition.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
THE HARDY BOYS and colophons are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
HARDY BOYS CLUE BOOK and colophons are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected].
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event.
For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.
Book designed by Karina Granda
The text of this book was set in Adobe Garamond Pro.
Library of Congress Control Number 2015938960
ISBN 978-1-4814-5178-9 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-5177-2 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-5179-6 (eBook)
The Missing Playbook Page 4