Farming Fear by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

snow beneath his feet gave way.
    “Joe!” Frank gasped. He stuck out his hand to grab his brother, but it was too late. Suddenly the snow beneath Frank gave way too, and both Hardys plunged down the precipice.

6 Snowslide
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    “Joe! Frank!” Iola cried.
    She and Chet raced to where the Hardys had disappeared over the edge of the slope, being careful not to fall themselves.
    “Frank! Joe! Are you all right?” Chet called.
    The Hardys couldn’t hear them.
    Snow and dirt cascaded all around Frank and Joe. Chilly white powder filled the air, stinging their faces and making it hard to breathe. The Hardys tumbled head over heels, spinning and twisting, unable to resist the avalanche.
    “Try to surf it out!” Frank called to his brother. He pumped his arms like a swimmer, attempting to scramble atop the mess.
    “Okay, I . . . ugh! ” Joe yelped as a loose stone struck his calf. The snowslide spun him around, and he disappeared in a cloud of white spray.
    “Joe! Joe! Are you—”
    Snow smothered Frank’s cry. Icy powder rumbled over his face, blinding him and filling his mouth. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tell up from down. Pieces of ice and rock pelted his body. Fortunately his heavy winter clothes blunted the impact.
    He fought to reach the surface of the slide. If he got completely buried, Frank knew his chances of living were slim.
    The avalanche slowed. Frank kicked up hard, pushing with his arms. The blizzard of rocks and powder fell away from his face, and he gasped fresh air once more.
    “Frank! Frank!” Joe called from nearby.
    “I’m all right,” Frank sputtered.
    Slowly, the snowslide carrying the Hardys ground to a halt.
    Frank and Joe found themselves buried up to their shoulders in snow ten yards beyond the bottom of the slope. They could hear Chet and Iola shouting from the top of the bluff, but the wind carried away the Mortons’ words.
    “Are you okay?” Frank gasped, looking at Joe. He felt bruised and achy, but not badly hurt.
    “Yeah, I’m all right.”
    “We’re lucky not to have any broken bones . . . or worse,” Frank said.
    Joe grunted as he tried to pull himself out of the snow. “I think I’m stuck. What about you?”
    The two of them struggled against the snow for a few minutes, but only managed to get their hands and arms free.
    “I think we can dig ourselves out,” Frank said, “eventually.”
    “We may freeze first,” Joe noted.
    Frank twisted his head toward the bluff and cupped his hands to his mouth. “We’re okay!” he called up to Chet and Iola. “But we’re stuck!”
    Chet quickly cupped his hands to his mouth, like Frank had, and called back, “There’s a rope in the buggy—I’m going to get it and climb down to you!”
    “Be careful!” Joe called back. “Iola, you stay put—we might need to send for help!”
    “Check,” Iola called. “I’m so glad you’re not hurt!”
    While Joe and Frank continued trying to work themselves free, Chet fetched the rope from the buggy and tied it to the vehicle’s bumper. The big teen slipped a couple of times on his way down, but he finally reached the brothers.
    “We’re lucky I didn’t cause another avalanche,” Chet said. He wiped a damp lock of blond hair out of his eyes and began digging with his hands. Unfortunately the slide had compacted the snow,making the digging very difficult. “Remind me to put a shovel in the buggy’s trunk when we get home,” he said.
    Frank and Joe tried to help Chet, but they didn’t have much leverage. “We should have brought a cell phone, too,” Frank noted.
    “Should we send Iola back to the farm for help?” Chet asked.
    “Driving through this storm alone would be dangerous,” Joe replied. “If something happened to her, it’d be horrible.”
    “Joe’s right. We don’t know if the dognappers are still out there,” Frank said, “and we don’t know what else they’re capable of. It’s best to stick together as long as we