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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: Trouble at the Arcade
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“Do you really think he could be the thief?” said Frank. “His pockets were empty—we all saw them.”

Joe shrugged. “I still think he could've done it. He's always pulling rotten stuff at school, like stealing people's lunches.”

“True,” Frank agreed. “But when he steals a lunch, he can hide the evidence in his own stomach. I don't really think he ate that money.”

Still, Frank wrote down Adam's name at the top of a list under the title “WHO?” Beside that he wrote down the other
W
words.

“Hmm,” he said, staring at what he'd just written. “We know What, Where, and Why. We're trying to figure out Who and How. But what about When?”

“We know the crime must have happened between when we got here and when Mr. Fun announced that the money was missing,” Joe said.

“That's not very specific,” said Frank. “We were here for a while before he came out and said that. Maybe we should go ask Mr. Fun about when the cash actually disappeared.”

They headed for the office. But when they got close to the door, they heard the sound of yelling.

“Yikes,” Joe whispered. “Sounds like Mr. Fun's still yelling at Darryl.”

“It's not my fault!” Darryl was yelling inside the office. “The stupid box was already half broken!”

Frank was still creeping closer. The door was standing partway open, and when he looked inside he gasped. “Look!” he exclaimed.

Joe came closer too. “Whoa!” he whispered.

Frank nodded. The wooden cash box they'd seen earlier wasn't on the table anymore. It was lying on the floor, smashed to smithereens!

8
A New Suspect

Check it out,” Joe whispered. He kicked at a chunk of wood on the floor by his foot. “There are even pieces of that box way out here in the hall.”

Frank nodded. “But why would someone bother to smash the box? It was wide open. All the thief had to do was grab the cash.”

“Maybe the thief accidentally knocked over the box while he was running away,” Joe guessed.
“It was pretty old, so it might have gotten smashed up just hitting the floor.”

Just then there came the sound of stomping feet. A second later Darryl charged out through the door. He almost ran into the Hardys.

“Get out of my way!” he yelled. Then he stormed off down the hallway.

Joe peered into the office. Mr. Fun was sitting on the edge of the table.

“What is it?” he said when he saw the boys. “Did you come to tell me you found my money?”

“No,” Joe said. “We were just wondering something. When exactly did you find out the money was missing?”

Mr. Fun frowned. “When do you think?” he snapped. “It was about two seconds before I started yelling that the money was missing!”

Joe glanced over at Frank. They could both
tell that Mr. Fun wasn't in a very good mood.

They ducked back out into the hall. “Should we go talk to Darryl?” Frank suggested. “Maybe he can tell us exactly when he left the office earlier.”

Joe had a feeling Darryl was in just as bad a mood as his father. But he nodded. “Let's go find him.”

That turned out to be harder than they
expected. Darryl wasn't anywhere in the arcade. But the Hardys finally spotted him in the bumper car arena. The other riders had left by now, and Darryl was the only one out on the floor. He was driving a bright purple bumper car around, smashing it into the parked cars as hard as he could.

“Hey, Darryl!” Joe called out. “Can we talk to you?”

Darryl didn't even look up. He just spun the purple car around and drove it straight toward the wall. It bounced off and crashed into another parked car.

“I guess he's not in a talkative mood,” said Frank in a low voice. “Maybe we should wait.”

“I have a better idea.” There were two bumper cars parked along the wall right by where they were standing. Joe vaulted over the wall and jumped into one of them. “Come on!” he told Frank. “If
we can catch up to him, maybe he'll talk to us.”

Frank didn't look too sure. But he shrugged and jumped over into the other car.

Darryl looked over when he heard them coming. “Hey,” he snapped. “This ride costs five tickets, you know. You can't just jump over the wall like that.”

“We'll pay your dad back later,” Frank said. “Right now we want to talk to you.”

“I don't feel like talking. I feel like doing this.” Darryl leaned over the steering wheel and drove straight toward
Frank's bumper car. Frank tried to steer away, but it was too late. Darryl's car crashed into his so hard that Frank's car jerked back and bumped into Joe's car.

“Whoa!” Joe cried.

Darryl's car bounced off the wall nearby. As soon as he could, he spun it around and took off for the opposite end of the arena.

Frank's car was stuck in the corner between a couple of parked cars. He was having trouble getting it turned around.

But Joe's car was still okay. “I'll go after
him!” he called. Then he stomped down on the go pedal. He steered after Darryl, dodging parked cars along the way.

He was almost caught up when Darryl heard him coming. “Leave me alone!” he yelled.

But Joe didn't slow down. He ran right into the back of Darryl's car. That made it bounce forward and get stuck between two parked cars along the wall.

“Hey!” Darryl shouted. He managed to spin his car around so it was facing out.

Joe didn't want to let him get away again. So he steered his car over to block the way.

“Get out of my way!” Darryl yelled. “Or I'll hit your stupid car so hard you'll end up on Mars!”

“I don't care.” Joe clutched the steering wheel tightly, just in case. “I really need to ask you some questions.”

By now Frank was steering toward them. “We're
just trying to help your dad get his money back,” he called.

Darryl glared at both of them. For a second Joe thought he was going to follow through on his threat to ram them again.

But then the teenager slumped in his seat. “Whatever,” he muttered. “My dad already thinks it's my fault the money is gone, and he won't listen to anything I say. So what do you want to know?”

“Well, to start with, what happened?” Frank asked.

“It was just like I said. That lady stopped in and offered me big bucks to help her carry some shopping bags out to her car, and I said yes. But, um, on the way out I might have knocked the cash box off the table.”

“Might have?” Joe echoed.

Darryl glared at him. “Okay, I
did
,” he said. “But it was an accident. I was so psyched to make
that much cash for doing something so easy that I jumped up too fast. That stupid box was so old it smashed when it hit the floor.”

Frank leaned forward on the steering wheel of his bumper car. “What happened to the money?”

“I didn't take it, if that's what you mean,” Darryl said. “The money fell under the table. I was going to get it out from under there and clean up the box pieces as soon as I got back.” He frowned, revving his bumper car. “But it took way longer than I thought to carry all that lady's stuff, and by the time I got back . . . Well, you know what happened.”

“And you and your dad checked under the table, right?” asked Joe.

Darryl nodded. “The box was still there,” he said. “And the roll of tickets, too. But not the money.”

Joe was starting to feel impatient. “Come on,” he said, swinging one leg over the edge of his car. “Let's go question some other people.”

“Wait.” Frank steered a little closer to Darryl's car. “We believe you didn't take the money. But we need more information so we can figure out who did. How long were you gone, exactly? And what time did you leave to help the lady?”

Darryl revved his car again. “What do I look like, a stopwatch?” he snapped. “If you want to know that stuff, you should ask that little brat with the blond braids. She was standing right there when the box broke.”

“Huh?” Frank said. “Wait, do you mean Mimi?”

Darryl shrugged. “I don't know her name. She's been pestering me all day about tickets. She finally came back with a grubby dollar bill she wanted to use to buy some, but I didn't have time before I left.”

BOOK: Trouble at the Arcade
12.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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