High-Speed Showdown Read Online Free PDF Page B

cola!”
    Dave grinned. “Of course, there are cash prizes for winning boats,” he continued. “Those really help cover your costs . . . but only if you win. The same goes for betting. You’ve got to win for it to do you any good.”
    â€œBetting? On boat races?” Joe said, surprised.
    â€œSure. Sports betting is a big business, where it’s legal. Nevada, for instance. And offshore racing is as much a sport as any other,” Dave replied. “Of course, even a big national meet like this one doesn’t attract the kind of bets you’d get on the Super Bowl or the America’s Cup. Still, I’m sure that a lot of bucks will change hands on Saturday, depending on who wins.”
    Frank said, “I heard a rumor that somebody was threatening to sabotage the meet. Do you think there’s anything to it?”
    Dave shifted uncomfortably. After a long hesitation, he said, “Yeah, I heard that, too. But you know what I think? I figure people are spreading those rumors because they hope to spook theirrivals—you know, psych them out so they won’t do their best.”
    Hearing this, Frank felt something that was a cross between irritation and disappointment. If the supposed sabotage was nothing more than a campaign of psychological warfare, he and Joe were wasting their time. Trying to unnerve your opponents might not be very sportsmanlike, but it wasn’t illegal.
    â€œThings have been mysteriously going wrong with some of the boats, though, haven’t they?” Joe asked.
    â€œGoing wrong, sure,” Dave replied. “But mysteriously? I doubt it. Look, an offshore racing boat takes a terrible beating out on the water. You hit a wave at a hundred miles an hour, you might as well be hitting a wall. And our boats aren’t that sturdy, either. A question of saving weight. So what happens? Things break. Last spring I was in a race with six other boats, and not one of us finished in good shape. Three didn’t finish at all. Sabotage? No way—just the breaks, that’s all.”
    â€œHey, Frank, we’d better go,” Joe said. “It’s nearly two. Dennis Shire is taking us for a ride,” he added to Dave.
    â€œWay cool,” Dave said. “Adelita is really fast. Maybe not quite fast enough to beat Barry, but fast. I’ll walk you out to the dock.”
    They edged through the crowd to the marina entrance and showed their passes to the guard. Asthey walked out toward Dennis’s slip, Dave pointed out some of the boats that would be contending for prizes in their various classes.
    â€œLook,” Joe said in a low voice. “Isn’t that Batten up ahead?”
    Frank looked. The top contender had changed into a high-visibility orange jumpsuit. The guy walking next to him was wearing a matching jumpsuit and carrying two bright orange crash helmets.
    â€œThey must be going out for a practice run,” Dave remarked. “That’s his throttleman, Chuck Aurora, with him.”
    At that moment, Joe let out a startled exclamation.
    Up ahead, Batten’s throttleman was bent almost double, clutching his middle. He let go of the two helmets, which echoed hollowly as they fell onto the dock. One of them rolled slowly across the wooden planks and over the edge. Just as Frank heard the splash, the stricken throttleman let out a groan and collapsed.
    Batten looked around and spotted Dave and the Hardys. “Hey!” he shouted. “Come help me! I think Chuck’s been poisoned!”

5 Suspicious Shrimp
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    Joe sprinted along the dock and knelt down next to the groaning throttleman. Putting his arm around the man’s shoulders, he demanded, “Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?”
    â€œStomach,” the man gasped, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Cramps. It’s killing me.”
    Joe glanced around. Frank and Dave were rushing up to help. Barry Batten watched for a