The Last Laugh Read Free

Frank saw that the Dreadnought, with Johns slung over his shoulder, had reached the lobby and was heading for a door opening onto the convention-center plaza. The Dreadnought turned just then and pulled off another smoke bomb. He lobbed it to Flame Fiend and bolted through the open doors and across the plaza. To Frank's surprise, Flame Fiend set the smoke bomb in the center of the lobby without pulling the pin. As he sped forward, Frank watched as Flame Fiend strode over to Johns's collection of comics. With a theatrical flourish, Flame Fiend snapped his fingers. A flame appeared in his palm. Frank stopped short, watching in disbelief as the flame grew into a foot-long wand of fire. Flame Fiend walked along the rows of Plexiglas-covered comic-book art, spraying fire over each display stand. This is too much, thought Frank. It's like something out of a comic book, but it's really happening!
    "He's burning the whole collection!" Chet shouted. "We've got to stop him!"
    Joe charged across the lobby toward the red-and-black figure with Frank. Chet puffed along, bringing up the rear.
    "Hey!" Joe shouted, running straight at Flame Fiend as the last of the display stands was sprayed with fire.
    Flame Fiend whirled at the shout and faced the boys. He snapped his fingers again, and the column of flame in his left hand vanished. Then with a peal of crazy laughter he kicked over the nearest display stand so it knocked over the stand next to it. The stands cascaded toward the Hardys like a row of flaming dominoes. Joe skidded to a stop, but he and Frank were directly in the path of the tumbling, flaming stands.
    Just in time, Frank dived to the left and Joe rolled to the right. The blazing Plexiglas-and- wood frames toppled in a heap, flames separating the Hardys.
    Frank pulled himself up, looking over the flames for Joe, who was already disappearing through the lobby doors. Shaking his head, Frank grabbed a fire extinguisher from a nearby pillar and began to put out the fire.
    ***
    Arms and legs pumping furiously, Joe sprinted across the broad plaza. Flame Fiend had a good lead, but Joe was faster and was gaining on him.
    Joe saw the crook glance behind him. Then Flame Fiend's left hand flipped open a small black box on the back of his belt. A second later Joe heard a rapid metallic clattering.
    Before Joe knew what was happening, he lost his footing and felt his feet shoot up in the air. He slammed into the ground, hard.
    The fall knocked the wind from his lungs, and Joe just lay there for a moment. He shook his head to clear it, and when his eyes focused, he caught a flash of movement near the corner of the parking garage. It was Flame Fiend, climbing into a silver van with tinted gray windows. The van roared off as Joe watched in angry frustration.
    Fuming, Joe glanced around him and spotted a shiny metal ball lodged in a groove in the pavement. Then he noticed several others.
    "Ball bearings," Joe muttered, plucking one of the metal balls from the pavement.
    He examined the ball bearings to see if it could give any clue to its origins, but it was featureless. He almost threw it down in disgust. But then he remembered his father's advice that no clue was too small for a good detective. Joe pocketed the ball bearing, got to his feet, and walked briskly back to the lobby.
    Frank was standing near the burned pile of display stands, holding a fire extinguisher, when Joe got there. Frank barely noticed Joe's arrival. The stands were no longer burning, Joe saw, but the artwork they'd displayed was reduced to ashes. The room was still smoky, and people had begun to open doors on either end of the lobby to air the space out. A handful of people wearing convention badges milled about, talking excitedly.
    "What happened?" Frank asked as Joe joined him.
    "They got away. I almost had the one in the red-and-black long Johns, but he dropped a bunch of ball bearings and I slipped on them."
    "Cute." Frank grimaced.
    "I saved one," Joe went on, "and I