The teenage boy grabbed the rope with his right hand and pulled himself up, planting his feet against the rock to give him more leverage. Suddenly, he felt the rock give away under him and start to tumble down. He gasped in alarm, then winced as his body slammed into the rock.

Down below him, another teenage boy quickly swung out of the way of the small avalanche the other boy had started. Once they were safely past, he swung back to his original spot, jamming his toes into niches in the rock wall. He looked up, and somewhat amused smile on his face. "Thanks, little brother. I've always wanted to get hit by rocks while I was climbing. It would make an interesting war story."

"Sorry!" seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy called down, feeling a little guilty. But then he grinned. "But, after all, it is my job to keep you on your toes!"

"Whatever," laughed Frank Hardy, who was a year older than his brother. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. My shoulder just hurts a little. It's probably just a bruise. No big deal."

"Well, since your not dying, hurry it up a little. My arms are killing me. Besides, it'll be dark soon. The sun's already starting to go down."

''Yeah, yeah. I'm going." Joe once again planted his feet against the rock, looking for traction. Then he started to pull himself back up the rope, going hand over hand up the rock face while pushing with his feet. He sometimes had to use toeholds to keep from sending more rocks down onto his brother.

Finally he reached the top. With a triumphant sigh and a self satisfied grin, he hauled himself over the edge and rolled down the slight hill. On his knees, he crawled so that he could peer down over the edge. "Hey, Frank! Are you okay down there?"

"Just peachy," Frank grunted. He was close to the top and he wanted to hurry up and get there. "I would have been here sooner if you hadn't decided to bean me with rocks."

"I didn't mean to," Joe protested. "Besides, you managed to get out of the way. I slammed into the big rock. And you only got it once."

"Yeah, right." Frank took a deep breath as he pulled himself up and over the edge and tumbled down. "You sprayed me with pebbles the whole way up. Next time we go climbing, I get to be first. There was only one big enough to actually hurt."

"Yeah, well. You survived." Joe locked his hands behind his head and laid back on the grass. He let out a happy sigh. "Day One: Frank and I managed to climb one of the cliffs at Yellowstone National Park. Pretty good achievement if you ask me."

Frank stretched out next to his brother. "Yup. And we still have thirteen more days of adventure to go. But, if we plan on having a Day Two adventure, we'd better start heading back to camp." He checked his watch. "It's already starting to get dark, and I am not looking forward to trying to find my campsite in the dark."

"Aww, come on, Frank," Joe protested. "We've just finished an hours climb. Let's rest for a minute. It won't be long. Besides, what's so bad about going after dark?"

Frank, who was on his knees, began ticking off the reasons on his fingers. "We could get lost and not have anywhere to go when the temperature drops tonight. We also don't have any food and no idea how long it would take rescuers to find us if we did get lost. And then there's the animals. Wildcats, snakes, and, my personal favorite, grizzly bears."

''Okay, okay. I get the point," Joe grumbled as he got to his feet. "Sheesh. You don't have to be so sarcastic about it."

Frank rolled his eyes as he, too, got to his feet. Joe telling him not to be sarcastic? Now that was a switch.

The brothers were as different as any to people could be. Joe was six feet tall, blond, blue-eyed, and a dedicated football player who lifted weights every day. Frank, an inch taller, was darker than Joe. He had the brown hair and eyes of their father and a leaner build.

Their personalities were as different as well. Joe was brash and impulsive, opting to rush into a problem rather than think. Frank was the studious one, always thinking a problem through before rushing in. Yet the two were extremely close, almost like twins. It was this and their differences that made the two such a successful pair of detectives.

As they hurried back to their campsite by way of the dying sunlight, Frank thought about how good this vacation was going to be for all of them: him, his brother, and his dad. They didn't have to worry about being chased, being shot at, or kidnapped. Just two weeks of normal adventure at Yellowstone National Park.

When they finally reached the camp, it was nearly pitch dark. They found their father already sitting by a roaring fire, stirring the embers. He quickly stood as they boys approached.

"Where have you two been?" he demanded, anger and relief mingling in his voice. "I've been worried. I was expecting you back sooner."

''Sorry," Frank said, sitting down on a log opposite his father. "Joe wanted to take a rest after the climb, so I had to drag him away. That climb took a lot out of us. I had rocks dumped on me."

Joe rubbed his shoulder as he sat next to his brother. "I think I would have rather been hit by rocks then slammed into that rock. It hurt!"

Mr. Hardy shook his head and chuckled as he sat back down. He knew he shouldn't have been worried. His boys could handle anything.

Fenton Hardy--a tall, well-built man--had once been a crack investigator for the New York City Police Department before retiring and taking his family to Bayport, a small seaside town not far away. There he had opened a P.I. service and was now known internationally as one of the best. However, out of all his achievements, he was most proud of his sons, whose reputations were now as widely known as his.

"So, how was the climb?" he asked, again stirring up the embers with his stick.

"Great," Frank answered.

"Awesome," Joe said at the same time, causing the two to look at each other, startled.

"How long did it take?" Mr. Hardy asked, grinning.

Joe looked at Frank, who shrugged. " About an hour, I guess. It was a pretty big climb."

"But worth it," Joe said with a pleased grin. "I told Frank that it was a pretty good achievement, climbing one of those suckers the first day."

"I'll say it is," Mr. Hardy agreed. "I wish I could have gone with you, but I would have never had made it. I'm getting too old to climb, I'm afraid."

"No way, Dad!" Joe protested.

His father chuckled. "Thanks for the boost of confidence, Joe. What do you have planned for tomorrow?"

"We thought we'd let you pick," Frank said, looking to Joe, who nodded. "Since you couldn't go with us today, we thought we'd do something you want to do tomorrow."

"Looking out for your old man, huh? I'm flattered." Fenton Hardy grinned, and his eyes sparkled. "Actually, I do have an idea. There's a spot on the river a couple of miles from here that is supposed to have some awesome rapids. I'd like to try and hit them at least once."

"All right!" Frank said with a grin. "We now have a Day Two adventure. White water rafting it is!"

Later that night, as the brothers prepared to go to bed, Joe heard a wolf howl in the distance and gave a little shudder. "Looks like you were right, big brother," he said, burrowing into his sleeping bag. "It wouldn't have been such a hot idea to try and come back after dark."

"See?" Frank said triumphantly. "That's why you should always listen to me. I'm always right."

"Not always. Where would be the fun in that?" Joe linked his hands behind his head. "I've got to keep you ready for anything. Otherwise, you might loose your touch."

''Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Frank turned onto his side. "We'd better get some sleep. It's late, and tomorrow's gonna be a busy day."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Joe shut his eyes. "Goodnight, big brother."

"Goodnight, little brother."

Soon, both were fast asleep.

Frank awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee and frying bacon. He took a deep sniff as he stretched, savoring the smell. Then he glanced at the sleeping bag next to his and saw that it was still occupied. That wasn't a big surprise. Joe hated getting up in the morning.

Frank yawned, stretched again, then wriggled out of his sleeping bag. He briefly considered waking his brother up, then just as quickly decided against it. Joe would need his sleep.

Frank stepped out of the tent he and Joe were sharing and took a deep breath. "Mmmm. Smells wonderful."

"Good morning yourself," Fenton said with a grin as Frank walked over to the fire. "Is Joe up yet?"

Frank snorted. "Come on, Dad. You know how Joe is. You answer."

He laughed. "Okay. I deserved that. Dumb question. Let me try again. Wanna go wake him up?"

Frank shook his head so fast he could almost feel his brain move around. "No way. I'm not that eager to die. You go wake him up."

"I heard that," came a sleepy voice from behind him.

"Good morning, Joe," Fenton said as his younger son came stumbling out of his tent.

"Mornin'," Joe replied, plopping down next to Frank. He inhaled deeply. "Mmm. Food."

"Well, bro, you ready to take on the rapids?" Frank asked, slapping his brother on the back.

Joe looked at him increadously with his sleep filled eyes. "No," he answered. "At least, not yet. I haven't even eaten yet."

Frank winked at his father. "Yes. We know you'd die without food."

Joe didn't reply with words, but the elbow he shoved into his older brother's ribs spoke just as loud.

"Well, gentlemen," Fenton said, "breakfast is served."

Twenty minutes later, Joe Hardy was fully alert as he finished the last bit of his bacon sandwich. "That was great, Dad," he said, patting his stomach. "I didn't know campfire food could be so good."

"Anything's good when you're hungry," Fenton pointed out.

"And your always hungry," Frank added dryly.

Joe grinned. "Hey, I'm a growing boy. I need all the energy I can get."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He turned to his father. "So, when do we get to hit the rapids?"

"Well, I went up to the ranger station up the way to see about getting a river guide. They checked with the rental place and said we were in luck. The best guide they have will be there around noon, and that they'll take us down."

Frank stood and stretched. "Sounds like a plan to me. Well, I'm going to get ready." He looked to his brother. "Coming, Joe?"

His brother absently waved his hand in the air. "Go ahead. I'll be there in a minute."

Frank frowned. All of the sudden, Joe didn't sound right. But he couldn't quite put his finger on why... He shrugged. "All right. Suite yourself." He turned and disappeared into the tent.

Fenton had also noticed the abrupt change and was now watching his son out of the corner of his eye. Joe seemed down. Depressed almost. A big change from the way he had been just minutes ago.

"So, you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, poking at the dying embers with his stick.

Joe sighed. "It's noting, really. I'm just thinking....about Iola."

Immediately, Mr. hardy's heart went out to his younger son. Iola Morton had been Joe's girlfriend, his first love. But she had been killed only a month before when a car bomb meant for his sons had gone off with Iola inside. She had died instantly, though Joe still had tried his hardest to get to the burning car, to save her. He hadn't been the same since. Fenton knew he felt guilty, but he never talked about it.

His father didn't know what to say. "Joe..."

"I know, I know," It's our vacation and I'm supposed to be having fun," Joe said miserably. "And I am, I really am. It's just that, well, she would have loved this. 'A great adventure' she would have called it." He shook his head. "Listen to me. Today's your day and I'm already spoiling it. Forget I said anything. I'm going to go get ready." And, before his father could say anything, he had gotten to his feet and disappeared inside the tent.

Mr. Hardy stared after him, a worried statement on his face. This was the first major display of emotion Joe had had yet. He and Frank would have to keep an eye on him.

Inside the tent, Frank was doing just that as Joe pulled a pair of swimming trunks out of his bag. He had heard the conversation between his brother and father and it had him worried.

"So," he said brightly as he pulled on his own swimming trunks. "Think this ride will be as wild as the one down the Ocoee?"

"I don't know," Joe answered. "That was a pretty wild ride. Of course, we don't have a crazy killer after us like we did then. At least, I hope not."

"True, but I've heard these rapids here are pretty rough."

"Are they, now?" Joe tossed his brother a grin. "Well, we haven't come up against anything we couldn't handle yet. Why should this be any different."

Frank returned the grin. "Right on!"

Twenty minutes before noon, the Hardys were standing by the edge of the launch, waiting for their guide.

Joe looked around, scanning the crowd. Not far away stood an older man and two teenage girls. Both had blond hair. Joe thought they looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place them. Suddenly, the taller girl turned around and looked behind her. Joe immediately knew who she was.

"Frank," he hissed, elbowing his brother in the ribs and nodding at the group. "Look. Isn't that--"

"It sure is," frank said excitedly, his brown eyes lighting up. "Nancy!" he called waving his arm in the air. "Nancy Drew!"

Promises Made