The Desert Thieves Read Free Page B

moment.
    â€œI love this motor home,” he said. “I still can’t get over it. It’s got a bathroom, beds, a dining room, and a living room with a TV. It even has a complete kitchen. It’s just like a house on wheels. Hey, we could go into business selling wienies and live out here like real cowboys. Wouldn’t that be great?”
    â€œYeah, right, dude,” Frank said, rolling his eyes. “We’re your first customers, and we’re not terribly impressed with the service.”
    â€œHey, you just gave me an idea, Frank,” Joe said. “We could call our company Food for Dudes! What do you think?”
    Fenton laughed. Frank shook his head and said, “Dream on, bro.”
    Fenton had rented the motor home in Phoenix on their way to Organ Pipe, and at first the feeling of driving a house down the road was strange. But they’d adjusted quickly, enjoying the idea that whoever was not driving could walk to the refrigerator anytime to get a cold drink or even work out with the weights they’d brought along.
    At the dealer’s suggestion, they had also rented a small car to tow. That way, once they got to Organ Pipe, they could leave the motor home parked at the campground and drive around in the car. And since the motor home came equipped with a two-way CB radio, Fenton had also rented a CB walkie-talkie to keep in the car.
    Frank opened an outside cabinet door on the side of the motor home and pulled out a bag of charcoal. As he sprinkled the chunks in the raised brick barbecue, he said, “You know, Dad, I was thinking. Joe and I could work on this case while we’re here, and Grish wouldn’t even have to know about it.”
    â€œOh?” Fenton said, popping open a can of soda.
    â€œIf we could figure out where the other theft sites have been,” Frank continued, “we could doour own investigating. This park covers thousands of square miles, so Grish wouldn’t even see us. We could get tire measurements, check out the damage, look for footprints, whatever. Plus, we could get to know some of the people here at the campground and get a feeling for whether any of them are involved. I’ll bet there are clues Grish has missed.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Joe said. He had come back out and was trying to light the charcoal. “I don’t think he has any training in detective work.”
    â€œAnd he wouldn’t have to know we were involved until after we’ve solved the case,” Frank said. “Dad, you could visit with him and keep him busy while we check things out. Meanwhile, we can trail Kidwell to figure out what he’s up to, and we can call to find out if he has a criminal record. And while you’re hanging out with Grish, he might even accidentally give you some information we could use for solving the case.”
    â€œGrish has asked us to stay out of this affair,” Fenton reminded Frank. “We don’t want to cause any trouble for him. Personally, I think he can probably solve this case on his own, given enough time.”
    Joe was admiring the flames curling around the charcoal when he noticed that a young man had squatted down behind the Hardys’ motor home, almost out of view. He was pointing a camera at a small cactus near the right rear tire, but his eyes were on the Hardys. As soon as Joe spotted him, hestraightened up and started fiddling with his camera. He looked about eighteen or nineteen, tall and thin, with a long blond ponytail. Joe had a strong hunch he’d been eavesdropping.
    â€œExcuse me,” Joe called loudly. “What are you doing? Do you need something?” Joe walked around the corner of the motor home, a frown on his face.
    The man turned and walked off, as if Joe hadn’t even spoken.
    â€œHey!” Joe shouted. “I asked you what you were doing.”
    At that, the man took off, running fast in the other direction. And just as fast, Joe was