"My White Knight jumps over your Spike Wall and attacks your Goblin Legion," Chet Morton said, a grin breaking out across his broad face. He laid down a card labeled "White Knight."

"Your hero may be smiling now," Tim Lester said, "but he doesn't know that behind my Spike Wall is a River of Snakes." He pulled the card from his hand and placed it faceup on the table.

"My knight laughs at your River of Snakes. They can't bite through his Enchanted Armor."

Tim frowned and scratched his head. "Then I guess I'll have to call in my War Giant for reinforcement."

The pretty blond girl seated at the other end of the lunchroom table frowned. "I don't get it," Callie Shaw said to the three friends seated with her.

"Me neither," Iola Morton agreed. Chet's sister sighed and pulled her short brown hair into a ponytail. "I figured this game was just another of Chet's passing fancies, but he's stuck with it a lot longer than he did with turtle racing."

Frank Hardy, a tall, athletic high school senior with dark hair and brown eyes, smiled. "The game's fairly simple," he said. "Each player is a Creature Commander and is trying to build up a deck of cards representing a vast fantasy army." Pretending an empty milk carton was a game-playing piece, he pushed it across the lunch table toward his seventeen-year-old brother, Joe Hardy. Joe responded by shoving an empty plastic cup out to "face" the carton.

"Then each commander pits his army against the other player's army," Joe said. "Whoever comes out on top is the King Creature Commander. It's not my type of game but..." He shrugged his wide shoulders, and his blue eyes twinkled.

"But you'll pretend you know all about it to impress the girls," Chet called from the other end of the table. He and Tim were still hunched over their colorful decks. Chet grinned at the Hardy brothers before returning to his game.

"You're awfully cocky for a guy who'd never heard of Creature Cards eight weeks ago, Chet," Iola called back.

Chet played one final card and lifted his arms with a victorious whoop. Tim rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. Chet scooped up his deck and scooted his chair down along the cafeteria floor to where his sister and the others were sitting.

"Hey," Chet said, laying his deck on the table, "I have a right to be smug. I just kicked Tim's Goblins all the way back to Valhalla."

Tim scooted his chair down to join the others as well. "You wouldn't have won if your Bargeist didn't pop up from your deck just now," he said.

"Bargeist?" Iola asked.

"I thought Valhalla was reserved for Viking heroes," Callie added.

"Anything goes in this game," Chet replied, thumping his wide chest. "And to the boldest commander goes victory."

"What Chet means," Frank said, "is that the game's creators aren't too concerned about mixing their mythologies."

"Who cares what they mix when they've created a card game this cool?" Tim interjected.

Chet nodded. "Besides, Troy King and his partners have made a fortune since they invented this game. They must know what they're doing; they're overnight millionaires. It's a lot more lucrative than the detective business." Chet grinned slyly at the Hardys.

"No wonder," Callie said, "the way you and your friends throw away money on those cards."

Frank put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "We may never be millionaires," he said, "but Joe and I have something more worthwhile."

"Callie and me?" Iola put in hopefully.

Joe smiled at his girlfriend. "Well, that, too," he said. "But I think Frank meant character."

"I hear poverty builds character," Chet countered.

"I've got plenty of characters," Tim added, laying his cards out on the table one by one. "I've got the Goblin Laird, the Samurai Scorpion, the Terrible Troll.... I've even got Sinbad and his Sister. Now, if only I had something to counter Chet's Bargeist! I need to come up with an anti-Chet strategy before the tournament next week."

"I didn't know they were holding a nerd convention this lunch period," a deep voice said. The Hardys and their friends turned to see Sam Kestenberg standing behind them. Sam was a tall, broad-shouldered senior with brown eyes and hair to match. "You kids still playing card games?" Sam asked disdainfully. "What's next, paper dolls?"

"Sam," Joe said coolly, "I almost didn't recognize you without your black leather jacket. You lose a bet or something?"

"Very funny, Hardy," Sam said. "You know that coats have to be stored in lockers during school hours."

Frank leaned forward in his chair, an expression of sympathy plastered on his face. "Aren't you afraid your rep will be ruined going out in public without it? People might think you're here to learn."

Kestenberg propped both his hands on the table; Chet scooped his cards out of the way. Kestenberg glowered at the Hardys.

"Listen, wise guys," he began, but just then the principal, Mr. Chambers, walked over to the group.

"Mr. Kestenberg," Mr. Chambers said, "I don't believe that you cleared away your lunch tray. You don't want to make extra work for the staff, do you?" His tone made it clear that Kestenberg should pick up his tray.

"Yeah, whatever," Kestenberg said grudgingly. He turned and walked over to a table with a lone tray sitting on it. The principal followed him.

"After you're done, Kestenberg," the principal said, "Mr. McCool wants to see you in print shop."

"Yeah, right," Kestenberg grumbled.

Iola turned to her friends and frowned. "I was glad when they kicked Sam Kestenberg off the football squad," she said.

"They didn't kick him off," Joe said. "He had to quit after he injured his knee."

"He got into enough trouble before then, though," Callie said. "Remember the time he rode his motorcycle around the track before the homecoming game? He nearly ran over the cheerleading squad."

"Kestenberg may be a jerk," Frank said, "but to give him credit, he was a pretty good ball player."

"Yeah," Joe said. "And I wouldn't wish a knee injury on anyone -- even my worst enemy. Now, what was this about a Creature Cards tournament, Tim?"

"Next week, downtown in the Sullivan Hotel ballroom," Tim said.

"It's going to be great," Chet added. "Scores will count toward national player rankings. Troy King himself is coming to hand out prizes."

"Naturally you're going," Frank said.

"Naturally," Chet replied. "The top winner gets a very rare card as part of the prize package. I hope you guys will come along to cheer me on."

"Sure," Joe said. "We love primeval card battles. Right, girls?"

"I can't wait," Iola said, rolling her eyes.

"I might have a meeting that night," Callie said. "Otherwise, I'll be happy to go." She smiled at Chet, who smiled back.

"If this is part of your strategy, Morton," Tim said jokingly, "then I'll have to secure my own cheering section."

Just then the bell rang.

Principal Chambers, who had gone back to patrolling the cafeteria, declared in a loud voice, "Pack your cards away, gentlemen and ladies. It's time to abandon your fantasy worlds for a return trip to the real one."

Chet and Tim pocketed their cards, as did several players sitting at other tables.

"You all want to go for a soda after class?" Frank asked.

Callie nodded. "Sounds great," she replied. "Let's meet by the gym."

"See you then," Joe said, waving to Iola and the others.

"I'll pass," Tim said. "I need to work on anti-Chet Creature Card strategies."

"I guess you'll be skipping school for the next week, then," Chet replied with a grin.

After school let out, Frank, Joe, Iola, and Callie met in front of the gym. As they were waiting for Chet, Tim Lester walked by.

"Hey, Tim," Joe said. "I thought you weren't coming."

"I'm not," Tim replied. "I was wondering if anyone knows what's up with Daphne Soesbee? I wanted to talk to her about the tournament, but she said she's too upset to talk."

"Does she play Creature Cards, too?" Frank asked.

"Yeah," said Tim. "She's one of the best players in school."

"I heard that someone broke into her locker," Iola said helpfully.

"Did anything get taken?" Joe asked.

"I think so," Iola said, "but I have no idea what."

Chet strolled up and joined his friends. "What's happening?" he asked.

"Daphne Soesbee got ripped off," Tim said.

"I just saw her talking to Gerry Wise and Peter Kaufmann," Chet said. "Or, should I say, I saw Gerry and Pete trying to talk to her. I thought she looked too wrung out to be discussing anything."

"Maybe we should get the whole story," Frank said. He led the others toward the student parking lot.

"I hope Daphne's cards weren't stolen," Chet said as they walked. "That would really set her back."

They quickly spotted Daphne. Her short-cropped red hair and black leather jacket stood out in any crowd. As the Hardys and their friends drew closer, they saw her talking to Gerry Wise, a short junior with curly black hair and thick glasses.

Daphne wiped something, probably tears, from her cheeks. Then, before the Hardys could reach her, she climbed onto her small maroon motorcycle and took off. Gerry shrugged and started across the lot.

"Look at Daphne go," Joe said.

"Good thing the weather's been so warm for early winter," Iola said, "or she'd freeze to death riding that cycle."

"I guess we can find out what happened tomorrow," Frank said. "Daphne didn't look like she wanted to chat anyway."

"So, who's for something to eat?" Chet asked, grinning.

"I'll pass," Tim said. "I need to catch up with Gerry. Then I want to hit the Dungeon Guild to see about some new cards."

"You'll definitely need new cards to beat me on Tuesday," Chet said jovially. "You've only got six days to get your act together."

"That Bargeist isn't always going to save you," Tim replied. He walked to his old VW and waved goodbye to the others.

"The way you two carry on, you'd think the world revolved around Creature Cards," Iola said.

"Doesn't it?" Chet asked wryly.

The next morning was unseasonably warm. The Hardys, their girlfriends, and Chet hooked up before school in the cafeteria. The Bayport High breakfast program was in full swing, and students munched happily on bagels, cereal, pancakes, and bacon and eggs.

Scattered throughout the room, small groups of kids sat playing Creature Cards.

"I was on the phone with Tim last night," Chet said, speaking around a mouthful of bacon. "Turns out I was right."

Joe took a sip of orange juice and asked, "About what?"

"Daphne's Creature Cards got stolen," Chet said. "Somebody swiped them while she was in phys ed."

"You card players have a pretty good grapevine," Callie noted.

"They gossip like Aunt Gertrude does when she plays bridge," Joe said jokingly.

"Did Daphne tell anyone about the theft?" Frank asked.

"I don't know," Chet said. "Some other players have had cards ripped off, too, but I don't think anyone's gone to the police."

"They should," Frank said.

"The cops wouldn't take the complaint seriously," Chet replied. "They'd just think Creature Cards were a joke."

"Some of the cards are valuable, aren't they?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, some," Chet said, draining a carton of milk. "My Bargeist is worth quite a bit. It's a very rare card, and powerful besides. I've seen Bargeists on the Net for over a hundred dollars."

"Yow!" said Iola. "No wonder you treat those cards like gold."

Chet nodded. "I picked up a good card last night, too. You want to see?" He stood up, fished into his pants pocket, and pulled out his deck.

"Maybe later," Frank said, checking his watch. "The bell should be ringing any second."

All five of them looked up at the class bell, expecting it to ring, but the P.A. system crackled to life instead.

"Good morning, students," Principal Chambers's voice said. "We'll begin our day in just a minute, but before we do, I have an announcement to make. Because of a rash of disruptions, including some thefts, in our classrooms and facilities, Creature Cards will be banned from Bayport High."