Passport to Danger by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

up so they could claim to catch Montie in the act.”
    â€œOr maybe to blackmail him,” Frank said, “to keep quiet about finding him there if Montie paid him. No question—that’s all possible.” Frank lookedat the paper in his hand. “But it’s also possible that Coach Sant’Anna marked out that initial himself. Maybe we’ll find an answer in this note.”
    When they got outside the hospital, Frank walked over to a bench and sat down. He held up the paper to the sun and found what he was looking for. “Cool,” he murmured. “Coach Sant’Anna was strong enough to push down on the pen. I had to leave the page he wrote on in the hospital for the police.”
    â€œYeah, you’re right,” Joe agreed. “It’s real evidence; they should have it.”
    â€œBut he wrote hard enough that it imprinted the next page,” Frank said. He took a pencil and gently rubbed the side of the lead against the blank paper. Little by little, white lines appeared in the middle of the pencil lead smudges.
    â€œâ€˜Not Mon, W, ’” Frank read. The rest of the marks were just scribbles and didn’t seem to make sense.
    â€œâ€˜Not Mon’ could be ‘Not Montie,’” Joe guessed. “Or ‘Not Money’? Maybe it means ‘Not Monday’? What do you think the W means?”
    Frank looked at the letters closely. “It might not be a W, ” he said. “It might be two V s instead. I thought those were just scribbles at the end, but now I’m not sure. I wish I could make them out. They might tell us whether we’ve got a W or a double V here.”
    Frank slowly turned the note around, squintinghis eyes as he stared at the pale white letters. He hoped that looking at it from different angles might help him decipher the extra scribbles. When the note was completely upside down, he remembered something. “Wait a minute!” he said. “The M on the floor in the locker room—maybe that wasn’t an M. Maybe it was a W or a double V .”
    Ignoring a couple of weird looks from passersby, Frank lay down on his side on the bench in the same position that Coach Sant’Anna had been in when he found him. With the pencil, he marked the letter on the bench the way it was on the locker room floor.
    â€œHey, you’re on to something here,” Joe said. “From the coach’s viewpoint on the floor, it would have to be a W —an M upside down .”
    â€œOr two V s,” Frank said, sitting up. He erased the mark he’d made on the bench. “If Coach Sant’Anna wrote it with his left hand, it was definitely not an M .”
    â€œSo what would the W be for?” Joe wondered.
    â€œI can’t think of anything offhand,” Frank said. “But the V sure brings something to mind.”
    â€œVictoire,” Joe said, putting his hand on his bruised side.
    â€œLet’s keep this to ourselves for a while,” Frank said, “and see what we can find out on our own.”
    Frank and Joe headed for Le Stade and arrived at about 3:45 P.M . Considering the headlines thatmorning, their reception wasn’t too bad. Some of the local volunteers sneered a little, making cracks about foreigners butting in where they’re not needed, and some of the others treated them like minor celebrities. But for most of the people, it was business as usual. Everyone seemed to realize how important it was to get all the kinks out of the procedures before the opening ceremonies that evening.
    â€œWhoa, there he is,” Joe said, pointing out Montie Roberts, who was coaching his team on the field.
    â€œI’m not surprised he’s here,” Frank said. “Unless I press charges for assault, that scene with him last night will be considered just a street fight.”
    â€œYou’re talking about Montie, I’ll bet,” Jacques said, walking up to the Hardys and