Trial and Terror by Franklin W. Dixon

talking with Joe in my apartment, I realized you might be somewhere in the building. I have to tell you, Frank, I don’t like prowlers in my basement. I had a few things stolen last month.”
    â€œSorry,” Frank said. “I shouldn’t be here.”
    â€œI don’t like liars, either,” Alex said, moving slowly toward Frank. “You see, I get the feeling you’re still not telling me the complete truth.”
    â€œWhat am I leaving out?” Frank said, keeping both eyes on the ax.
    A creepy smile crossed Alex’s lips. “Maybe you also suspect Garfein had something to do with the murder attempt on Karen Lee,” he said. “Maybe you also think he paid someone to do it. And maybe you even suspect I’m the one he hired.”
    â€œYou’re very perceptive,” Frank said.
    â€œYou have to be pretty devious if you’re going to surprise a guy who writes murder mysteries,” Alex said, fixing his intense eyes on Frank.
    With a creak, the door opened.
    â€œThen I guess I’m pretty devious,” Joe said, standing in the doorway, holding an iron crowbar.
    Alex was startled, Frank relieved.
    â€œWhen you didn’t come back right away,” Joe continued, “I realized you might be looking for Frank. I know blood is your favorite color, Alex, but why don’t you put down that ax?”
    Alex was now between the two Hardys. “Why don’t you put down that crowbar?” Alex told Joe.
    â€œDeal,” Joe told Alex. At the same time, Joe and Alex put their weapons on the ground.
    â€œNow,” Alex said, holding up his hands, “why don’t we try swapping the truth? Because I think we’ve got some serious misunderstandings here.”
    â€œDeal,” Frank said. “You go first.”
    â€œOkay,” Alex said, shoving up the sleeves of his sweater. “Mr. Garfein isn’t crazy about Karen Lee because she’s messing up his renovation plans. But neither he nor I had anything to do with the murder attempt. As far as the heat goes . . . ”
    Alex opened the door of a small metal box mounted on the wall. Aiming his flashlight beam at it, Frank saw a switch between the words On and Off. The switch was obviously turned on.
    â€œThis is the heat control,” Alex explained. “You can plainly see the switch is in the on position. Even though the boiler flames are going, the heat isn’t working because the temperature gauge on the boiler needs to be replaced. I’ve been trying to get the repairmen to come,but they keep canceling on me. Hopefully they’ll be here this afternoon. That’s my truth. Now it’s your turn.”
    In the name of fair play, the Hardys told Alex they were detectives working for the defense of Nick Rodriguez. They revealed everything, except for the fact that they had just broken into Lee’s apartment.
    Alex listened, fascinated. When the tale was done, he said, “So you guys are detectives, huh?”
    â€œYes, we are,” Joe answered.
    â€œHave you worked on many cases?” Alex asked.
    â€œPlenty,” Frank said.
    â€œWhat type?” Alex asked.
    â€œAll types,” Joe said. “Theft, attempted murder, sabotage, kidnapping, dognapping, catnapping.”
    â€œHow old are you?” Alex said.
    â€œI’m eighteen, he’s seventeen,” Frank replied.
    â€œWow!” Alex cried, lighting up with excitement. “You know what I should do? I should write a book about you guys. A real-life profile of the Hardy brothers, teenage detectives. A book like that could really take off. And I’m talking best-seller here. I could make you guys famous!”
    Alex looked from Frank to Joe, as if expecting them to be thrilled with his idea.
    â€œDo we want to be famous, Frank?” Joe asked.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Frank said, matter-of-factly. “We get into enough trouble as it is.”
    Alex