1.	Mantu

"Ba-bop-ba-dop .. bee-boop-ba-dop."
With one hand on the steering wheel, seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy used his free hand to tap out dance steps on the dashboard with his fingers. "Ba-bop-ba-dop ... bee-boop-ba-dop . .. boop-boop-ba-do-bop... That's it!," he said to himself, completing the musical phrase as he swung the yellow convertible into the driveway. "Ba-bop-ba-dop .
"Earth to Joe! Earth to Joe! Come in, Joe!" The blond sleuth caught his fingers in mid-high-kick and looked up. He'd been too absorbed in what he was doing to even notice his brother, Frank, who was standing in the driveway staring at him like he'd lost his mind. Dark-haired and a year older than Joe, Frank was the less wild of the two amateur detectives. He tended to think things through before acting. Joe tended to act first and think later.
They made a good team.
Joe rolled down the car window and gave his brother a sheepish grin. "Uh, hi. I didn't see you.
"I guess not!" The older boy laughed. "What were you doing?"
"Just working out a song-and-dance routine for Iola. She's entering the Barmet Bay Beauty Pageant and wants me to choreograph her routine for the finals. Pretty neat, huh?"
lola Morton was Joe's girlfriend. She was also one of the best-looking girls at Bayport High, and Joe had talked her into entering the annual beauty contest, figuring she was a cinch to win.
"Here, look at these steps I worked out for her," the blond boy went on, starting to go over the routine again with his fingers.
"Forget the stupid dance steps!" Frank interrupted as he suddenly remembered what had been on his mind.
It dawned on Joe that his brother didn't just happen to be standing in the driveway but had run out of the house the second he'd driven in. Is something wrong?
"No! Something's right!" Frank spoke excitedly.
"I think we've got a new case! A big one! We're supposed to leave for Paris in the morning!" Joe's jaw dropped a little. "Paris? A case? What?"
"Come on inside and I'll show you. Some African guy called Mantu came by today. He wants us to locate a girl for him and he thinks she might be in Paris."
Joe climbed from the convertible and followed his brother, who had started back toward the house.
"What's the problem? Is she a runaway or some-thing?" he asked, wondering what had Frank so hopped up. Missing-persons cases were the dregs of detective work, often tedious and rarely fruitful.
"Not just a runaway. This is major stuff. Her father was the president of a small African nation called Zebwa, and now they want her to take over the presidency!"
Joe blew a low whistle as they entered the front hall. "Sounds big all right."
"It is. Her name is Niki Jerusa. Here's a picture of her. It was taken four years ago. She should be about our age by now."
Frank picked a photograph off the hall table and handed it to his brother. It was worn and cracked, like it had been carried around in a wallet for years.
The image was of a young and very pretty African schoolgirl.
"Looks l

Chapter 1: The Call to Adventure

Chapter 2: The Search Begins

Chapter 3: Facing Obstacles

Shadows of Affection