The Curse of the Ancient Emerald by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

top. She was dragging Chet out of the bedroom.
    I quickly tossed the sword back into the bedroom, then helped her bring Chet none too gently down the stairs, trying to make sure his head didn’t bump the wood too hard. I could hear the sirens outside as we approached the bottom.
    â€œHelp me get him up,” I cried. Together, Amber and I managed to heave Chet onto my shoulders. We hurried toward the kitchen.
    Frank wasn’t there.
    â€œFrank!” I whispered loudly.
    He reappeared a moment later. “Just double-checking the living room. I think I cleaned everything.”
    We slipped into the garden just as the police were nearing the front door. I knew that when they found it locked, they would head to the back. I looked around, then rushed to the wall leading to the next-door neighbor’s house. Frank climbed over first, and Amber and I manhandled Chet up after him. He tumbled over the fence.
    I hopped up onto the wall and turned back to help Amber, but she was already pulling herself up beside me.
    Looking back toward the house, I saw flashlights shining into the back garden. I quickly dropped onto the grass. Amber landed next to me.
    â€œA little help here.”
    We looked over to find Frank pinned beneath Chet. We rolled his unconscious form over, and Frank pushed himself to his feet. As he did so, Chet groaned.
    â€œWha—what happened?”
    â€œShh,” whispered Frank. “Keep it down. We’re not out of this yet.”
    Frank was right. He and I crossed the lawn, supporting Chet between us, and snuck around to the front of the neighbor’s house. The owners had come out to see what all the commotion was. They were standing out in the street with their backs to us.
    We managed to sneak along behind them and head back to where we’d parked the car. After we climbed inside, Frank put it into neutral and released the brake.
    We rolled back down the hill until the police and houses were out of sight. Then Frank started the engine, turned us around, and headed back into town.

IDENTITY CRISIS
7
FRANK
    T HE NEXT DAY WAS SATURDAY , so Joe and I had the whole day to plan our next move. We’d managed to foil the first of the robberies, but if the Phantom, aka Jack Kruger, kept his word (and there was no reason to think he wouldn’t), it meant there would be two more to go. Our best bet to stop him was to find out where he lived and report his whereabouts to the police before he had a chance to follow through on his threats to our family.
    I checked the mail first thing, but there were no more riddles—just a flyer for the reopening of the Civil War exhibition at the town hall. So I spent the morning going through Dad’s files, hoping to find something that could help us track down the Phantom.
    I brought what I found to Joe, who was sitting in the living room, poring over the day’s paper.
    â€œBig write-up about the attempted robbery last night,” he said.
    â€œAny mention of us?” I asked, placing the folder on the table next to him.
    â€œNothing.”
    I felt a surge of relief. “He’ll make it harder for us next time.”
    â€œTonight, you mean?” said Joe, putting down the paper and stretching.
    Tonight. It seemed crazy that we were waiting on a riddle to foil another robbery that was only hours away.
    â€œWhat if he doesn’t send us a riddle this time?” I wondered.
    â€œHe will,” said Joe confidently. “He likes this game.” He nodded at the file. “What’s that?”
    â€œBackground on Kruger. Everything I could find on the Internet and from Dad’s files.”
    Joe started leafing through the file while I lay down on the couch and tried to figure out our next move.
    â€œHey, did you see this?” he called. “Dad kept up his file even after Kruger was put in prison. He mentions Kruger’s cell mate here. It says they were released within a few months of each