The Ice-cold Case by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

secret?” Frank said.
    â€œErnie hates this high-tech stuff,” Joe reminded him. “He probably wouldn’t know what this list was if he did see it.”
    Phil continued punching the numbers into the program, producing more red X’s on the lake.
    â€œI think we ought to get to the lake and check these out,” Frank said. “Phil, can you print a map with those locations?”
    â€œI can do better than that,” Phil said. He went to a shelf full of small electronic devices and pulled out something that looked like a cellular phone with a large LCD screen. “We’ll use this. Global positioning satellite system,” Phil explained. “It can tell you exactly where you are, using satellites to triangulate your position. We’ll hit these spots within a few feet. When do we go?”
    â€œNow, if everyone’s up for it,” Frank said as he looked over at Joe.
    â€œI’m used to the cold,” Joe said with a smile.
    They piled into the van, Phil carrying the GPS unit and the map with the X’s.
    By the time they reached the lake, it was dark and the night was bleak. Snow was falling. Clouds blocked the moonlight and the cold wind tore through their layers of clothing.
    â€œYou guys really know how to have a good time,” Phil said as he bundled his coat tighter.
    â€œWe don’t exactly pick our spots,” Joe said.
    â€œLet’s not take any chances,” Frank said. He stripped some branches for walking sticks.
    â€œI’ve learned my lesson, thank you very much,” Joe said as he helped with the branches.
    Soon they were out on the lake, tapping their waytoward the nearest one of the spots on Phil’s map. While Phil concentrated on the map and the greenish glow of the GPS screen, Frank tapped along in front of them. Joe brought up the rear, using his flashlight to make sure they were alone on the lake.
    â€œCan you guys see anything?” Phil asked.
    â€œYeah, snow,” Frank said.
    â€œWe’re here,” Phil shouted over the roar of a gust of wind. “So what are we looking for?”
    â€œI wish I could tell you,” Frank said.
    â€œDo you think maybe it’s a guide for which houses to rob?” Phil said as he tried to see the houses through the falling snow.
    â€œBeats me. Let’s see if anyone’s been fishing here,” Joe suggested.
    This was easier said than done because fresh snow covered the ice. Joe used his foot to push the snow away from the point where Phil had stopped. Frank and Phil did the same. After a few minutes, they had cleared the snow in a circle about eight feet across. Joe scanned the ice with his flashlight.
    â€œSee anything?” Phil asked.
    The storm kept fresh snow streaking across the spot they had cleared.
    â€œThis is crazy,” Phil said as the biting wind whipped his face.
    â€œWelcome to detective work,” Joe said.
    â€œI prefer working with you guys indoors,” Phil said.
    Frank got down on his hands and knees.
    â€œThin ice?” Joe asked with concern in his voice as he saw his brother drop to the ice.
    â€œNo, I felt something,” Frank said.
    Joe shone his flashlight where Frank pointed. Frank could see an indentation in the ice, a little smaller than a manhole cover.
    â€œThere was a hole here, all right,” Frank said. “See the ridge? It’s frozen back over.”
    Joe trained his flashlight on the spot. The beams caught something, a shiny object frozen into the ice at one edge of the ridge.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Joe asked.
    Frank crawled to the spot and brushed away the stray flakes that were gathering. “Looks like a piece of tinfoil.”
    â€œCan you believe people litter like that?” Phil said with disgust.
    â€œPretty stupid,” Frank agreed.
    â€œSo what do you say, should we move on to the next spot?” Joe asked.
    â€œI’m going to freeze if we don’t get