Too Many Traitors Read Online Free Page B
Author: Franklin W. Dixon
guess he was a man. I wish he'd had a scar, some peculiar mannerism, something we could identify him with."
"We're not finding him unless he wants to be found," Joe said. "And we can't walk up to the Russians and ask them what's going on. I don't see any way we can help ourselves until we get a handle on the situation."
Suddenly Frank snapped his fingers and said excitedly, "There's one person who might be able to clue us in!" "Who?" Joe asked. "The girl?" A broad grin spread across Frank's face. "Martin."
"Martin? But he's — "
Frank waved a finger, cutting off his brother's thought. "Right. But the police have sealed off his room, so odds are everything he had is still in there."
"Of course!" Joe said. "If he left any information in his room — but how do we get in?"
"That's what we've got to figure out," Frank replied. "One thing's for sure. We'll have to wait until dark. Till then, we might as well eat." He picked up the menu and studied it, then raised his hand to flag the waiter to the table.
Despite the bright spotlights that lit up the front of the hotel at night, the rear of the place was dark, except for the parking-lot lights and ground lamps that marked the edges of walkways.
Frank and Joe slipped around to the back of the hotel, staying in the shadows. There were no signs of police in the parking lot, and guests were coming and going now as they pleased.
"I don't know if we should have spent so much time in that cafe," Joe whispered. "All that food is starting to weigh me down." A car sped by them, catching them in its headlights, and the boys turned their heads to hide their faces.
"We can make up for it by eating light for the rest of the trip," Frank answered. "Besides, if this doesn't work, we may not get another chance to eat at all. Did you leave a big tip?"
"Sure. Never know when we'll have to hide out there for a few hours again."
Following his brother, Joe crouched down and darted across the parking lot until he reached the safety of the darkness on the other side. Now they were at the bushes just in back of their hotel, and he looked up to the third floor, counting silently to himself. "There's our room," he said, pointing to a window on the third floor. "Four rooms in from the end."
Frank nodded. "That's good to know for when we have to get in there."
Joe walked to the corner of the building and turned up the side, counting carefully. Finally he stopped under two balconies, one above the other, and looked up. The top balcony was dark, and he could see no shadows on the shades drawn inside the room there. "Martin's."
Frank cupped his hands together and held them down at his knees, palms up. "Ready?" he asked Joe.
"Ready," Joe said. He broke into a sprint, heading straight for Frank. His last step landed in Frank's cupped hands, and Frank jerked upward, hurling Joe into the air. Joe stretched out his arms, and his fingers locked onto the balcony above him. Straining, he pulled himself up and over the railing and rolled with a thud onto the balcony.
Joe flattened himself on the balcony floor and reached down through the railing until Frank gripped his hand. "Hold on," Joe said. Slowly, he lifted his brother up. Finally, Frank grabbed the bottom of a rail and dragged himself onto the balcony.
"One down," Frank said breathlessly. "Care to try for another?"
"Why not?" Joe said, gathering his strength. Frank cupped his hands together again, and in seconds Joe had disappeared over the railing of the top balcony.
For a long minute Frank watched in vain for some sign of him. But there wasn't even a sound.
"Joe!" he whispered. "Are you all right?"
As if in answer, an arm extended down from the top balcony. Frank grabbed it and hung on as he was lifted.
"You know, you could have answered me," Frank complained as he came over the railing. "I thought something had hap — "
That's when he realized Joe wasn't alone. Two policemen were holding his arms. Standing in front of Frank was the man
"We're not finding him unless he wants to be found," Joe said. "And we can't walk up to the Russians and ask them what's going on. I don't see any way we can help ourselves until we get a handle on the situation."
Suddenly Frank snapped his fingers and said excitedly, "There's one person who might be able to clue us in!" "Who?" Joe asked. "The girl?" A broad grin spread across Frank's face. "Martin."
"Martin? But he's — "
Frank waved a finger, cutting off his brother's thought. "Right. But the police have sealed off his room, so odds are everything he had is still in there."
"Of course!" Joe said. "If he left any information in his room — but how do we get in?"
"That's what we've got to figure out," Frank replied. "One thing's for sure. We'll have to wait until dark. Till then, we might as well eat." He picked up the menu and studied it, then raised his hand to flag the waiter to the table.
Despite the bright spotlights that lit up the front of the hotel at night, the rear of the place was dark, except for the parking-lot lights and ground lamps that marked the edges of walkways.
Frank and Joe slipped around to the back of the hotel, staying in the shadows. There were no signs of police in the parking lot, and guests were coming and going now as they pleased.
"I don't know if we should have spent so much time in that cafe," Joe whispered. "All that food is starting to weigh me down." A car sped by them, catching them in its headlights, and the boys turned their heads to hide their faces.
"We can make up for it by eating light for the rest of the trip," Frank answered. "Besides, if this doesn't work, we may not get another chance to eat at all. Did you leave a big tip?"
"Sure. Never know when we'll have to hide out there for a few hours again."
Following his brother, Joe crouched down and darted across the parking lot until he reached the safety of the darkness on the other side. Now they were at the bushes just in back of their hotel, and he looked up to the third floor, counting silently to himself. "There's our room," he said, pointing to a window on the third floor. "Four rooms in from the end."
Frank nodded. "That's good to know for when we have to get in there."
Joe walked to the corner of the building and turned up the side, counting carefully. Finally he stopped under two balconies, one above the other, and looked up. The top balcony was dark, and he could see no shadows on the shades drawn inside the room there. "Martin's."
Frank cupped his hands together and held them down at his knees, palms up. "Ready?" he asked Joe.
"Ready," Joe said. He broke into a sprint, heading straight for Frank. His last step landed in Frank's cupped hands, and Frank jerked upward, hurling Joe into the air. Joe stretched out his arms, and his fingers locked onto the balcony above him. Straining, he pulled himself up and over the railing and rolled with a thud onto the balcony.
Joe flattened himself on the balcony floor and reached down through the railing until Frank gripped his hand. "Hold on," Joe said. Slowly, he lifted his brother up. Finally, Frank grabbed the bottom of a rail and dragged himself onto the balcony.
"One down," Frank said breathlessly. "Care to try for another?"
"Why not?" Joe said, gathering his strength. Frank cupped his hands together again, and in seconds Joe had disappeared over the railing of the top balcony.
For a long minute Frank watched in vain for some sign of him. But there wasn't even a sound.
"Joe!" he whispered. "Are you all right?"
As if in answer, an arm extended down from the top balcony. Frank grabbed it and hung on as he was lifted.
"You know, you could have answered me," Frank complained as he came over the railing. "I thought something had hap — "
That's when he realized Joe wasn't alone. Two policemen were holding his arms. Standing in front of Frank was the man
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