Farming Fear Read Online Free PDF Page A

intruder.
    “Rats!” Joe said as the ground became progressively more bare. “Looks like we should have come out earlier after all.”
    “It might not have done any good anyway,” Frank said. “The pine tree canopy has kept most of the snow off the ground here. Even this morning we probably wouldn’t have found anything.”
    “So what’s next?” Chet asked hopefully.
    “Next, we—,” Joe began, but a sudden noise stopped him in mid-sentence.
    CRACK!
    “Get down!” Frank cried. “Someone’s shooting at us!”

4 Winter Hunt
----
    All four teens dived to the ground, looking for cover. But the needle-covered forest floor was clear of brush, and the tree trunks weren’t big enough to hide behind.
    CRACK!
    Another shot, closer this time.
    “Sounds like a rifle,” Frank said.
    “Can you see the gunman?” Joe asked. “Where are the bullets coming from?” He swung his head around, looking in all directions.
    “I don’t know,” Frank replied. His keen brown eyes scanned the woods nearby but found nothing. “He must be behind one of the larger trees.”
    “Are you sure he’s shooting at us?” Iola said. “Maybe it’s just a hunter.”
    “Well, I think teenagers are out of season,” Chet quipped.
    CRACK!
    “C’mon,” Frank said. He sprang up and ran northwest, farther into the forest. The others dashed after him.
    “Should we be leaving the horses?” Chet asked.
    “The horses are big targets, plus they’re tied up out in the open,” Joe replied. “The sniper could have killed them already if he wanted to. They’ll be fine.” The younger Hardy held tight to Iola’s hand as he ran, making sure she didn’t fall behind.
    They sprinted through the soggy winter woods, their boots crunching on pine needles and small patches of snow.
    CRACK!
    “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Iola asked.
    “Not entirely,” Frank replied. “We should split up, instead of giving him one big target.”
    “Chet, you and Iola keep going straight,” Joe said. “Frank and I will circle around to the northeast.”
    “But I think the shots are coming from there,” Chet said.
    Frank nodded. “Hopefully—that’ll give you both a chance to circle back to the horses and go for help,” he said.
    “Joe, no!” Iola pleaded. Tears formed at the corners of her gray eyes.
    “It’s the only way,” Joe replied. “Don’t worry. Frank and I can take care of ourselves.”
    “With luck,” Frank added, “we may be able to ‘take care’ of this sniper, too.” He locked eyes with his friends. “We split on three. Ready? One, two . . . three!”
    Frank and Joe veered off to the right while Chet and Iola kept running northwest.
    CRACK!
    A bullet whizzed through the pine branches somewhere behind the Hardys. It didn’t come anywhere near the Mortons.
    “I think our ploy worked,” Joe said as they ran.
    “Good,” Frank replied. “Keep your eyes peeled for that sniper. The trees are getting thicker ahead. We’ll be able to find some cover and catch our breath.”
    The brothers darted into a thick stand of pines and took refuge behind a boulder. The rock was only shoulder height, but it was wide enough to shield both of them from the rifleman. A small drift of partially melted snow clung to the north side of the rock.
    “We don’t want him cutting around behind us,” Joe cautioned.
    “We should be able to hear him coming if he tries,” Frank said.
    Both brothers held their breath and listened. To the north, the woods thinned out. They caught glimpses of white snow beyond.
    “That must be the right-of-way for the power lines,” Joe whispered.
    Frank nodded.
    “Do you hear something?” Joe asked.
    Frank nodded slowly. “It’s coming from near the right-of-way.”
    “He’s circling us,” Joe hissed, “trying to cut us off.”
    “Let’s beat him to the punch,” Frank said. He scooped up a double handful of the slushy ice and formed it into a hard-packed snowball. Joe grabbed a big