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

"My boss," Chet explained. He pulled a bag of ice from under the table and started filling up a pitcher with fresh punch.
"Your boss is named Bo Costello?" Frank said.
"Well, he's not my boss, exactly," Chet said. "Can I get you guys some punch?" he asked. "A soda? Glass of water?"
"I'll take a soda," Joe said. "So, who is Bo Costello?"
"He's only the director of admissions at Circus U.," Chet replied.
"Sorry, Chet, but Joe and I aren't exactly up on who's who at Circus U.," Frank said with a grin.
"Costello's one of the most important people at Circus U. When I stopped by his office yesterday to get the class schedule and a catalog, he mentioned that he needed people to work the refreshment table tonight. When he said I'd get to wear my clown gear, I volunteered."
"Look out," Frank warned. The clown-faced juggler he'd seen earlier was about to step right into Joe. Frank pulled his brother from the path of the juggler.
"Sorry," the juggler said, dropping several of his gem-studded balls. Each ball had different colored gems, and they sparkled brightly under the lights. The juggler's striped green pants were covered with flecks of rhinestones that matched. the studs on the ball.
"I guess I wasn't watching where I was going," the juggler said apologetically as he leaned over to pick up the balls.
"That's okay," Frank said. "We were in your way." He leaned down to pick up a ball that had fallen at his feet, but the juggler grabbed the ball off the floor before Frank could touch it. Shoving the balls into the pockets of his baggy green pants, the juggler then quickly rounded the table to find another ball that had rolled underneath it.
"So what kind of classes are you taking?" Joe turned to ask Chet.
"Let's see. Juggling, of course. And some magic tricks. There's a makeup class, too."
While Chet went on, Frank stepped around to the side of the table. He spotted the juggler kneeling on the ground behind the table. "It's right there," Frank told him, pointing to the ball that was lying next to Chet's Circus U. bag.
But the juggler didn't hear him, and Frank quickly figured out why. He was too busy rifling through Chet's bag!
Chapter 2
A Circus Code
"Hey! Get your hands out of there!" Frank yelled. "That's my friend's bag."
"What's going on?" Joe said as soon as he heard Frank's shout.
The juggler looked up and saw Frank standing over him. He leaped up from his crouch beside the table and pushed Frank aside.
Frank fell onto the refreshment table, and it collapsed under him with a crash. The crowd that had gathered jumped out of the way. Then Frank felt cold drinks and popcorn spilling on top of him.
"Frank!" Chet cried. "What—"
Frank pulled himself off the table. "Later, Chet!" he exclaimed. "Come on, Joe. We've got to stop that juggler."
The Hardys pushed their way through a crowd of circus performers who were corning backstage through the red velvet curtain. Frank spotted the juggler's blue wig weaving through the crowd. When the juggler reached the curtain that led to the arena, he paused to let a group of men and women in matching spangled leotards and tights go around him.
"There he is," Frank said, pointing him out to Joe.
"Let's get him!" Joe cried.
Just then, the juggler disappeared through the curtain. The Hardys pushed their way through the crowd and followed the juggler into the arena. Their progress was slowed by the parade of performers that was continuing to move toward the backstage area.
"We're going to lose him in this crowd," Joe said.
"Not if I can help it," Frank muttered between his teeth.
Frank tried to keep his eye on the tall, broad-shouldered figure of the juggler, but a man in a tuxedo and a woman dressed in an acrobat's costume cut in front of them. By the time Frank had pushed past them, the juggler was gone.
"Rats," Frank said, moving away from the crowd and stopping short in the middle of the arena. "Where'd he go?"
Joe looked around the huge space. Three large circus rings had been set up in the arena with trapezes, a high wire, and brightly painted platforms for animal acts. Seats for the audience stretched upward and in a semicircle around the arena. "He could have gone anywhere," Joe said. "There are exits at the end of every aisle of seats, plus those two fire exits at each side of the arena."
Frank nodded. The juggler might have sneaked out through any one of the clearly marked exits.
"I'll look for him outside," Frank said, pointing to the closest red exit sign. "You look around the backstage area. Check out dressing rooms and offices."
"Right," Joe said with a nod. "Meet you at Chet's table in fifteen minutes." He turned and hurried back toward the red velvet curtain.
Frank quickly headed to his left, in the direction of the exit sign. As soon as he pushed the door open, a blast of cold, damp air greeted him. Frank shivered in his wet shirt, which had been drenched with punch. The December night was brisk, and it felt as if it might snow. Frank circled the arena parking lot, passing between parked cars and looking underneath them. Streetlights at corners of, the lot gave off some light, but not enough for Frank to spy the juggler. Finally, he checked his watch and saw that his fifteen minutes were up. Time to meet Joe, he thought with frustration, and he didn't have anything solid to report. The juggler had escaped.
Frank hurried back into the building. He could at least find out what, if anything, was missing from Chet's bag. Then they could report the theft to the Circus U. authorities. If the juggler was with the circus, or a student at Circus U., they'd find him soon enough.
His brother was waiting for him on the other side of the curtain.
"No luck?" Joe asked when he saw the look of disappointment on Frank's face.
Frank shook his head. "How about you?" he asked.
"I checked a couple of storage rooms and the men's locker room. Nothing. The guy disappeared. Let's find out what he took," he suggested, leading the way back to the refreshment table.
Chet had righted the table, mopped up the mess, and gone back to pouring punch and sodas for the thirsty crowd. Every once in a while he stopped to readjust his wig. "Hey, what happened?" Chet called out when he spotted Frank and Joe. "Did you find that guy?"
"No luck," Frank answered, leaning down to pick up Chet's Circus U. tote bag. "But I saw him with his hands in your bag."
"You're kidding," Chet said, reaching for the bag. "I hope none of my Circus U. stuff is gone."
"What's this?" Frank asked as he felt a round metallic object underneath a pair of Chet's jeans. He pulled the object out of the bag. It was a green, studded ball.
"That's just like the ball the juggler lost under the table," Joe said.
"Right," Frank said, holding up the ball. It was the size of a softball but much heavier. Dotted all along the outside were penny-size gems that looked like rhinestones. With his other hand, Frank passed the tote bag over to Chet. "Check to see if there's anything missing," he told his friend.
Chet nodded and started going through his bag. Joe reached for the ball and gave Frank a quizzical look. "The question is, what's it doing in Chet's bag?" he asked his brother.
Frank shrugged. "You got me. But the juggler must have had some reason for stashing this ball in Chet's bag." He took the ball back from Joe and continued to examine it.
Chet held up his tote bag. "Everything's here, including my wallet," he told Frank and Joe. "That's weird, isn't it?"