Read Online The End of the Trail by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

McSavage was a farmer. And he practically killed Chet with that horse—deliberately, I’m pretty sure.”
    â€œI think there are people in this town that want all of us dead,” Frank said.
    Joe looked stunned. “But why?”
    â€œI think there’s some kind of illegal operation still going on around here. And they think we know something about it,” Frank explained.
    â€œBut what do we know about...” Joe’s eyes began to gleam. “That money we saw those guys drop yesterday!”
    â€œExactly,” Frank said. “We weren’t supposed to see that. And that’s why they don’t want us leaving town. We might tell somebody about it, somebody who’ll figure out where that money came from.”
    â€œBut who is ‘they’?” Joe asked. “Who wants us dead?”
    â€œWell, I’m guessing that Bill McSavage does, for starters,” Frank said.
    â€œYeah,” Joe said. “And the Brookburn brothers, too.”
    â€œWho are the Brookburn brothers?” Frank asked.
    â€œThe guys who were carrying the money,” Joe said. “I had a kind of nasty encounter with them a few minutes ago. They seem to be Bill’s farmhands—and maybe his partners in crime, too.”
    â€œI think Bill’s manservant is part of it,” Frank said. “Wait till you get a load of that guy.”
    â€œManservant?” Joe asked. “I thought manservants just existed in old novels.”
    There was a creaking noise from above. Somebody had slid open the trapdoor that Frank had fallen through, and light was filtering down into the cellar. A pair of arms shoved a ladder through the hole.
    â€œThey exist for real,” Frank said. “And here’s the gentleman now.”
    â€œWe’d better move,” Joe whispered. “Fast.”
    â€œWho are you talking to?” the butler bellowed from above. “Mr. McSavage wants to see you right now, young man, and if you’ve got somebody downthere with you, you’d better get him here right now, too, if he knows what’s good for him!”
    Frank and Joe took off for the cellar stairs that led outside. Joe raced up first. As Frank climbed up after him, he looked back to see the butler leap off the bottom rung of the ladder—with a rifle slung over his shoulders.
    â€œGet a move on!” Frank urged. “We’re being followed by a crazy guy with a gun!”
    Joe climbed out onto the ground, and said, “Now what have you gotten us into? Here I was just trying to save your life!”
    â€œYou may have helped,” Frank said. “Now we’ve got to get away from here. But which way should we go?”
    â€œNot back toward town,” Joe said, padlocking the cellar door closed. Seconds later there was a pounding from below, as the man tried to get out.
    â€œWe can make a run for the barn,” Frank said.
    â€œBetter than nothing,” Joe said. “Maybe we can hitch a ride on Chet’s horse.”
    The brothers began running down the hill toward the barn. They could hear frantic noises from the mansion behind them. Just as they were about to pass beyond sight of the old house the front door opened and the servant and Bill McSavage came bursting out. They were both carrying rifles.
    The barn door was partially opened, and the brothers slipped inside and looked around. Thehorse was nowhere to be seen, but there were two large piles of hay on the floor, one of them as large as a shed.
    â€œBill doesn’t have much of a farm, but he sure makes a lot of hay,” Joe said. “I wonder why he keeps such a big pile of it.”
    â€œJust get inside it,” Frank said.
    Joe gave the haystack a dirty look. “Looks worse than the campsites we slept in on the trail.”
    â€œIt beats getting shot,” Frank said, shoving his brother into the haystack. They both burrowed into the stiff bristles of dried grass,