"Dixon, Franklin W - Hardy Boys 111 - Three-Ring Terror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dixon Franklin W)

Frank spotted a bag leaning against the far wall of the room. "Do you think you could get to that bag?" he asked his brother, pointing to it with his head. "There might be something in the bag we can use to cut these ropes."
Joe pulled himself up and edged over to the side of the room. He grabbed the bag's handle between his teeth and carried it over to Frank.
Frank leaned over as best he could to look inside the bag. He spotted more of Rosen's juggling balls and some bowling pins—and then, underneath a clown wig, Frank saw a knife handle.
"There," he said, pointing it out to Joe. "Look. There's a knife in the bag."
Joe turned around, grabbed the bag with his fingers, and shook it until Rosen's props spilled out. A knife fell from the bag on top of the pile.
Joe turned around and faced the pile of props. "It's a stage knife," he said.
Frank saw the plastic handle and realized his brother was right. "It might still work," Frank urged. "Grab it and see if it's sharp enough."
Joe twisted sideways and used his hand to pick up the knife. He turned with his back to Frank and tried working the knots. "Forget it," he said finally. "There's no way this thing is going to cut through the rope."
Frank gritted his teeth, sensing that they were wasting precious time. Whatever Rosen had planned, he stood a much better chance of succeeding with him and Joe tied up like this.
"Wait a minute!" Joe cried, twisting around and facing Frank.
"What?" Frank asked.
"I just thought of something." Joe pulled himself to his feet and hopped over to Rosen's makeup table. "Yes!" he cried.
"What?" Frank felt himself getting frustrated. "Would you please tell me what it is that you thought of?" He twisted his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Joe had his back to Rosen's table. In one quick move, Joe had picked something up from the table, let it drop to the ground, and stepped on it with his shoe.
"Perfect!" Joe cried, looking at the floor.
Frank followed Joe's gaze and saw a small hand mirror, shattered into several pieces, lying on the floor. "Good job," Frank said. "But be careful."
Joe nodded and eased himself down to the floor again. In a few seconds he'd managed to pick up a shard of the mirror and was edging his way back to Frank. "Don't move," he urged his brother.
Frank waited silently, holding his breath, while he felt Joe work at the rope holding his hands together. "Almost there," Joe said with encouragement. "Got it."
"Way to go!" Frank shouted. He pulled his hands apart and felt the rope drop to the ground. He rubbed his wrists to get the circulation going again, and then leaned over to untie his legs. "You're next," he told Joe.
Joe turned his back to Frank, and within a few minutes Frank had untied his brother's hands. Joe took care of the rope around his ankles himself. "Now what?" he asked Frank.
"If we're going to find Rosen, we'll need a cover." Frank got up and started searching the room. "If we're in disguise, he won't know we're after him."
"And he won't have a chance to get away," Joe added.
Frank stopped short for a moment and turned to face Joe. "Hey, what did you say earlier about Rosen not being involved in the sabotage?"
Joe looked embarrassed, then confessed, "It doesn't make sense anymore. Why would he go so far to get us out of commission?"
Frank bit his lower lip, thinking. "He wouldn't. Not unless there was something specific he was up to—something he had to do today and he thought we might be in the way."
"Because today's December twentieth," Joe said.
"Exactly," Frank replied. "And as we said before, Nash's accident happened yesterday. Rosen could still be behind the sabotage, but the message must mean something different. We don't have time right now to figure out what it is, though." He continued hunting around the trailer for a disguise. "I think I found it!" he said in a minute. "Look."
Frank pulled a red and white polka-dotted clown costume out of Rosen's trunk. Under that costume was another one, with orange and black polka dots. Also in the trunk were two pairs of long shoes with flowers standing up at the tips and two more wigs. "These are perfect. I've seen clowns wearing costumes that look exactly like these. Rosen will never know these are his costumes." Frank held out the red and white costume to his brother.
Joe took one look and shook his head. "No way are you getting me in that thing."
"It's the only way," Frank said, putting his leg into the costume. "Hurry up. We can't let Rosen get away."
Joe took the costume from Frank and looked at it. "This is ridiculous," he said.
Frank passed Joe a wig from the trunk. "Are you going to put the suit on or not?" he asked.
Joe must have realized that Frank meant business, because he quickly stuck his legs in the costume and pulled it on. "I'm not wearing that wig; though."
"It's no disguise if you don't put on the wig," Frank told him. "Come on, already."
Joe stuck the wig on his head. "Satisfied?" he asked.
Frank looked at Joe and burst out laughing. The polka-dotted costume made Joe look huge, and the red wig gave his face a boyish look. "You look like a real clown," he said, stifling his laughter. He reached for the clown makeup on Rosen's table. "But we'll need whiteface, too."
Joe shook his head vigorously. "No way," he insisted.
Frank reached into a jar of white makeup and started smearing it on his face. "Without makeup, our costumes aren't very authentic."
Joe sighed and started applying the makeup. "It's too bad we missed Chet's makeup class. If we'd gone, we'd know what we're doing right now."
"Improvise," Frank urged, reaching for a large tube of red lipstick and applying it to his mouth. He drew a circle above his lips and around his mouth and filled it in with lipstick. "And hurry. We don't have much time."
In a few minutes, Frank and Joe were completely in costume, clown face, wigs, and shoes. "Let's go!" Frank urged when he saw Joe was done drawing thick eyebrows and smearing his eyelids with black makeup.
Frank eased the door to Rosen's dressing room open, peeked into the hallway, and saw that it was empty. He stepped out of the room and motioned for Joe to follow him.
"Just act casual," Frank urged his brother under his breath. "If we prowl around long enough, we're sure to spot Rosen."
"It's kind of hard to act casual when you're dressed like a dork," Joe told his brother.
Frank ignored the comment and strolled down the hallway, his huge shoes flapping in front of him. Around them, the Montero Brothers Circus was getting ready for that afternoon's performance. Clowns and other performers moved back and forth between dressing rooms and prop rooms, and prop people carried stilts and toy cars toward the freight elevator.
"He's got to be around here somewhere," Frank told Joe.
"Unless he took off once and for all," Joe told him.
"But it's the twentieth," Frank reminded his brother. "According to his code, something's going to happen today."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Frank spotted Rosen's telltale baggy green striped pants coming out of clown alley.
"There he is," Frank whispered, trying not to be heard. "Come on!"
Frank took off at a brisk walk, trying not to arouse Rosen's suspicion. Joe followed in step.