The Desert Thieves Read Online Free PDF Page A

followed him outside, shutting the door behind them.
    â€œWhat do you suppose that was all about?” Joe asked.
    â€œWho knows?” Frank said. “It probably had to do with what happened this afternoon on the road.”
    Another shout came from inside, but before the Hardys could decide whether to interfere, the door flew open and Kidwell stomped out. He turned and shouted, “And you know what I’m talking about!” Then he marched straight to his pickup, got in, started the engine, and drove away, spinning his tires as he went.
    Inside the office, Grish was sitting at his desk. He looked up as Frank and Joe entered. “I’m not sure what made you boys show up when you did,” he said, “but I guess it was a good thing. Kidwell and I were about to go at it.” Grish smoothed back his sandy hair and wiped his brow.
    â€œWhat happened?” Frank asked.
    Grish explained that when he’d said something to Kidwell about his irresponsible driving, Kidwell had come after him.
    Joe asked whether Grish had mentioned the shovel.
    â€œI did bring up the shovel,” Grish said, nodding. “But as soon as I mentioned it, he blew up. And then, after you left the office, I tried again to talk tohim. When I mentioned the shovel, he up and quit his job. Just like that.”
    â€œWhat did he mean when he said you knew what he was talking about?” Frank asked.
    Grish spread his hands. “I wish I knew,” he said. “That’s the puzzle. I mentioned his driving and then the shovel. And I just barely touched on that.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make any sense,” Joe said.
    â€œYou’re right,” Grish said. “Anyway, after all of this, I’m not feeling very sociable. I’d like a rain check on dinner, if you don’t mind.”
    â€œSure thing,” Frank said. “We totally understand. Besides, the hot dogs Joe was fixing are either burned to a crisp, if Dad forgot to watch them, or else they’re ice cold.”
    â€œGood thing the motor home has a microwave,” Joe said. “If the wieners are cold, we can reheat ’em in the nuke box.”
    Grish smiled wryly. “Sounds delicious,” he said, “but I’ll pass.” He reminded them to come by with Fenton in the morning. “I’ll give you guys a map and instructions for finding the best hiking and climbing spots in the park,” he said.
    â€œI think Grish needs our help more than we thought,” Joe said as Frank drove them back to the campground. “But what are we going to do about Kidwell? It’ll be kind of tough to keep an eye on him now that he’s quit.”
    â€œTough, if not impossible,” Frank said.
    As Frank pulled the car into the campsite, Joesuddenly said, “Whoa, Frank. Back up and shine the headlights over that way.” He pointed toward Professor Townsend’s truck, which was parked at the next campsite. Frank backed the car around and shone the beams toward the truck.
    â€œHold it right there,” Joe said. Something shaped like a log, about two feet long and four inches thick, was lying under the truck. Joe got out and looked more closely. In the glare of the headlights, he could see that the object was actually the broken-off limb of an organ pipe. He reached under the truck and tried to grasp the limb without getting thorns in his fingers.
    â€œHey! What are you doing?” A man’s voice came from the trailer parked beside the truck.
    Must be Professor Townsend, Joe thought, straightening up. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bother you, but there seems to be a big piece of cactus under your truck. I was just trying to pull it out.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, a piece of cactus?” Townsend asked. He stepped out of the trailer and closed the door behind him. He was a tall, gray-haired man with stooped shoulders, and he squinted in the glare from the