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Informationen zum Autor Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys books. Klappentext MISSION: To investigate the shady goings-on at the exclusive private boarding school Willis Firth Academy. LOCATION: The mountains of New England. POTENTIAL VICTIMS: The brothers of Gamma Theta Theta! the most elite fraternity on campus! seem to be on the receiving end of all of Firth's biggest (and most dangerous) problems. SUSPECTS: The members of the frat may seem like brothers to everyone else! but Gamma Theta Theta insiders know that within the ivy-covered walls the boys are definitely not one big happy family.... This mission requires your immediate attention. This message will be erased in five seconds. HARDY BOYS For the Birds I am so not a cat person. Okay, that’s not fair. Some cats I like. The cute, cuddly ones. The huge, snarling, striped ones? Not so much. I was starkly reminded of that fact as I faced down three enormous, snarling tigers. That’s right, tigers. As in, six-hundred-pound killing machines. I shot a look over my shoulder. The iron-barred door leading out of the tigers’ enclosure was slightly ajar. That was my escape route. I just hoped the tigers didn’t notice it. The last thing my brother Frank and I needed was to be responsible for three loose tigers terrorizing the Bayport Zoo. One of the tigers let out a low growl. That snapped my full attention back to them. “Good kitty kitties,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice. “Quit kidding around, Joe,” Frank hissed from beside me. He didn’t take his eyes off the largest of the three big cats. It was eyeing a chunk of raw meat lying between itself and us. The meat was thick and juicy, oozing with blood. “I’m not kidding around,” I hissed back. “If we don’t get that meat before Tigger there decides to have a snack . . .” “I know. Our only solid piece of evidence goes bye-bye.” Frank looked grim. “And those smugglers can keep right on pushing drugs into the hands of local schoolkids.” Frank’s a sucker for innocent schoolkids. So am I, actually. That’s one of the reasons the two of us joined ATAC. You know—righting wrongs, fighting injustices, keeping illegal drugs out of the hands of schoolkids—that sort of thing. What’s ATAC? I’ll get to that in a minute. First, back to the tigers. “Try to distract them,” I whispered to Frank. “Then I’ll run in and grab that meat.” “Distract them?” Frank looked at me. “How? By acting like an even bigger, juicier steak? Anyway, if you make any sudden moves, Shere Khan there will pounce.” “Who?” He rolled his eyes. “Hello? Jungle Book ? Ring any bells?” I decided to ignore that. It didn’t seem like the best moment to start discussing movies. “Go back outside and bang on the bars of the cage or something. See if you can get them away from the meat.” Frank looked doubtful. But he did as I said. Sidling back to the exit, he jumped out. That left me alone with the tigers. Did you ever see a tiger up close and personal? If not, let me tell you: They’re huge. Really huge. “Easy, big guys,” I singsonged. “Nothing to see here.” I glanced at Frank. Then back at the largest tiger. He looked hungry. Outside the cage, Frank was doing his part. “Hey!” he called out, rapping on the metal bars with his keys. “Tony the Tiger! Over here!” Two of the tigers turned to look at him. But the big one kept right on staring at me. Only a twitch of its huge fuzzy ear showed that it had even heard Frank. Then it licked its chops...
