The Mark of the Blue Tattoo Read Online Free

halfway down the block. It was double-parked in front of a convenience store.
    â€œJoe, our tail’s back,” Frank said. “Make a quick U-turn, and let’s see if we can get a good look at him.”
    Even before Frank finished his sentence, Joecranked the wheel over and hit the gas. The rear end of the van fishtailed, then straightened out.
    As they barreled down the street toward the red car, Joe switched on the headlights, on high beam. Frank got a solid look at the car’s driver before he, in turn, floored his accelerator and roared away, tires squealing.
    â€œMale, white, about thirty-five,” Frank said aloud. “Round face, balding, gold stud in left earlobe.”
    Joe added, “Wearing designer sunglasses and a red-and-green Hawaiian shirt. And the missing letters on the license plate are T and M .”
    â€œYou guys are amazing,” Callie said with admiration. “I only got about half of that.”
    â€œEarly training,” Frank explained. “Dad used to play Kim’s Game with us when we were little.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” asked Iola.
    â€œIt’s from a book by Kipling,” Joe replied. “The way the hero, Kim, learned to be observant was, they’d show him a tray with a couple of dozen gemstones on it for a minute or so. Then they’d cover it, and he’d have to name as many as he could—from memory.”
    â€œDad didn’t use gemstones, though,” Frank added. “He used all kinds of other stuff—stamps, paper clips, matchbooks, ballpoint pens. It was fun.”
    â€œEspecially when we finally started getting everything right,” Joe said with a laugh. “Untilthen, I thought it was the pits. Uh-oh,” he said, looking at his watch. “We’d better be getting home.”
    Callie was planning to give Iola a ride home, but her car was still at school. Joe drove to the parking lot. As the girls were getting out, Joe said, “Iola, will you tell Chet that we’ll drop by to see him after dinner?”
    Iola smiled. “Are you planning to grill him?” she asked, teasing.
    â€œJust a few routine questions, ma’am,” Joe replied.
    More seriously, Frank said, “At the start of a case, you never know what information might give you the clue you need to solve it.”
    â€œBy the way,” Callie said, “Iola and I were in at the beginning, and we plan to stay in until we solve this case. Right, Iola?”
    â€œOf course,” Iola said emphatically. “And don’t forget about Chet himself. You’ll hurt his feelings if you don’t let him help.”
    â€œWe’ll remember that,” Frank promised.
    When Frank and Joe reached home, they booted their computer and logged on to the Net. Ten minutes later, they had traced the license-plate number they needed. The red compact car belonged to a car-rental agency in Martin’s Landing, a town about twenty miles from Bayport.
    Joe looked at Frank. “Looks like we’ll have tofind out who our tail is the old-fashioned way—by asking him.”
    â€œAnd hope we can keep him in one place long enough for us to find out the answer,” Frank added with a grin.
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    After dinner the Hardys drove over to the Morton house. Chet met them at the door. “Come on back to the family room,” he said. “Iola’s upstairs doing homework. I just made some popcorn.”
    Joe sniffed the air. “With extra butter,” he said. “It smells great.”
    The three friends settled around the table in the family room with the bowl of popcorn in the middle.
    â€œWhat kind of reception did you get when you went back to Freddy Frost?” Joe asked Chet.
    â€œPretty normal, I guess,” Chet replied. “Nobody showed any sign of knowing what had happened. No funny looks, no snickers, nothing.”
    â€œDid you tell anybody what