Captive Witness Read Free Page B

second time since their arrival at the rest area, the tour group rushed out of the restaurant in response to an emergency. They ran to within fifty feet of the bus where they stopped as the professor warned urgently: “Stand back!” From the interior of the bus they could hear a series of noises, a fierce crashing and banging.
    “It sounds like some kind of animal is in there,” Burt said.
    “I think it’s going to explode!” Bess cried, wringing her hands. “It is, isn’t it? It’s going to explode and nobody wants to tell me.”
    “Explode?” repeated the professor. “Why in the world would it explode?”
    “Because maybe there’s a bomb inside,” Bess said, clutching the professor’s arm. “Maybe that crazy bus driver planted a bomb. Maybe—”
    Suddenly, Nancy and her friends found themselves alone as the rest of the tour dived for cover inside the restaurant as they took in Bess’s words.
    “Now look what you’ve done, Bess,” George teased. “You’ll have everybody climbing trees in a minute. Will you stop talking about bombs?”
    “I can’t help it if I’m allergic to things that blow up,” Bess replied.
    “Nothing’s going to blow up.” George sighed. “Except maybe my head. You’ve given me a terrible headache. ”
    “What do you think, Nancy?” the professor cut in, as the onlookers continued to stare at the bus which was starting to rock slightly from whatever was causing the uproar inside.
    A smile broke over the young detective’s face. “No,” she said, “I don’t think it’s a bomb or anything dangerous. Stay here a minute. I believe we can solve this mystery very simply.”
    Nancy ran to the bus, opened the front door and reached inside to grab a large key dangling from the steering column. Immediately, she hurried to the luggage doors and unlocked them. As they fell open, everyone gasped with relief and surprise.
    Inside, tangled up with the baggage, was a man in long red underwear. He was bound hand and foot with his own belt and tie, and judging from the color of his face and the muflled sounds coming through the gag in his mouth, he was furious.

    “Some bomb,” George said.
    “Well, who is he?” Bess asked, beginning to calm down from her fright.
    “I wager he’s the real bus driver,” George offered.
    “You’re right,” Nancy said, as the man’s gag was removed and, in a torrent of surprisingly good English, he let everyone within 500 yards know who he was. How dare they let a helpless man bounce around in a luggage compartment for almost two hours while a thief drove his bus! he exclaimed.
    “But we didn’t know,” Bess protested. “Honestly. We heard a noise but—”
    “You heard a noise! You heard a noise!” the indignant man repeated as he wrapped himself in a blanket provided by the restaurant owner. “Of course you heard a noise!”
    “Well,” Bess said, backing away defensively, “we told the driver and he said you were just a bunch of loose tools bouncing around. I mean, not that you were loose tools but that’s what the noise was. Oh, I can’t explain. Nancy, help me,” the girl wailed.
    “Loose tools!” screamed the little bus driver, now almost dancing with frustration. “You should have realized that he wasn’t telling the truth,” he added, grinding his teeth. “Did he look like a bus driver? No! Now I look like a bus driver.”
    As everyone gaped at him, his eyes traveled down his body, which was wrapped in the blanket with his bare feet sticking out. Again his face turned red, and he angrily shouted once more. “That’s right, stare at me. Embarrass me. Get me my clothes!”
    Ned moved in to assist. “I’ll take him inside,” he said, “and I’ll see if the people here have some spare clothes to lend him. I’ll be back.” He put his arm consolingly around the man’s shoulders. “Sir,” he said, “you have been through a terrible ordeal. We are very sorry. Let me help you. Come with me and we’ll get some