Quotes About Brothers

The Righteous Brothers were purely rhythm and blues, black music.

I have a lot of brothers, and three or four of them love 'The Flash'.

It's boring whenever Michael's name has to be said next to mine. But I understand; there have not been too many brothers in formula one.

My publishers, two Catalan brothers with an inherited income, took me out to lunch to inform me that the first print run would be only five hundred copies. Five hundred readers? I accept! And the lunch was delicious.

The two cars drove to the Morton farm, about a mile outside Bayport. Several other cars were parked there already. The Hardys' friends marched the brothers into the house.

The boys hurried into the hotel and made their way toward the restaurant. From the lobby they could see Aunt Gertrude and "Mrs. Harrison" seated at a table near the street door. Frank and Joe slipped in and sat down near a potted palm which shielded them from view. Seeing a waitress bring salads to the others, they ordered sandwiches and soda.

Joe checked the gas and oil in their car while Frank loaded the baggage into the trunk. "All set." "Okay." Joe took the wheel and zigzagged through the Bayport streets until they came to the highway which led directly west. Early-morning traffic was light, consisting mainly of large trucks heading east toward the radar construction. The road, level at first, rose in a long curve toward the top of a hill, three miles out of town.

Franklin W. Dixon

Frank and Joe were about to get into their car and drive home when Frank remembered his mother's shopping request. There was a haberdashery near the hotel, and the boys went inside.

Ten o'clock the next morning found the Hardy boys on the sidewalks of downtown Bayport. They were on their way to police headquarters to check on any new developments in the harbor mystery. It was a hot, sunny day. Already the stores were lowering awnings over their display windows.

Not until after supper were the Hardys able to drive out to the Batter estate. The high, gabled mansion loomed starkly against the sky, silvered by moonlight. A broken porch rail and dark, blank windows gave it a sinister look. "Spooky-looking layout," Joe muttered. "It's a cinch no one's taking care of the place.

Franklin W. Dixon

When they reached home, Frank and Joe found that Aunt Gertrude had retired early. "Guess we'll have to rustle up our own snack," Frank said. He heated cups of cocoa while Joe made man-sized ham sandwiches.

After explaining that they would try to find a glove of similar manufacture, Frank and Joe left.

The two motorcycles whipped along the narrow road that skirted the bay and led to Willowville, the brothers' destination. The boys took the next curve neatly and started up a long, steep slope. Here the road was a mere ribbon and badly in need of repair.

The boys hurried to the Hardys' convertible. A red glow of sunset suffused

FRANK and Joe Hardy clutched the grips of their motorcycles and stared in horror at the oncoming car.

The boys drove to the Morton farm. Frank and Joe went inside with their chum and Mrs. Morton served milk and apple pie.

Callie and Iola are giving the party together," Frank explained. "That reminds me, Joe. We're supposed to pick up the ice cream!" A short time later, as Frank and Joe stepped from the house, they noted the gray, leaden sky overhead. "Looks as if that fogbank has moved in from the bay," Joe commented. "It'll be thick downtown.

Mr. Hardy had already booked two seats on a one-thirty airline flight. The boys drove to the airport, left their convertible in the parking lot, and were soon boarding a sleek jet. An hour later it landed at the Philadelphia airfield. Frank and Joe caught a taxi to the modernistic plant of the Noltan Medical Company. Mr. Noltan, a burly man in a tweed suit, greeted them with a firm handshake.

The brothers set off for the Bayport airfield minutes later and arrived at 2:57. Presently a loud-speaker blared: "Flight 401 from New York is now arriving at Gate 12." Frank and Joe joined a stream of people hurrying out to the apron to watch the plane discharge its passengers. Suddenly

Within half an hour Frank was guiding their convertible through the crowded streets of the grimy waterfront section of Southport. Reaching Dock Street, Joe began to look at the house numbers. "There it is!" he exclaimed. "Pull up, Frank." Twenty-four Dock Street was a ramshackle tenement. As the boys walked through the open front door, a stocky man dressed in dirty work clothes brushed rudely by them into the hallway.

Joe explained that every once in a while he and Frank went down to Rocco's fruit store to act as clerks while the owner went home to supper.

Frank and Joe were mystified as they drove away from the Haley Building. Both boys would have liked to go out in their boat to sift through their thoughts in the fresh salt air and sunshine. Since the Sleuth was not yet repaired, they settled for a drive to the harbor. The Napoli was moored at the dock. Tony was touching up worn spots with varnish, while Chet Morton lolled on a thwart, practicing knots. Frank and Joe strolled out to chat with them.