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Especially at night?”
    â€œHammering?” the woman repeated. “No, I don’t think so. I heard Jake Ferguson out chopping wood a couple of nights ago.”
    â€œIs that unusual?” asked Joe.
    â€œI guess it is,” she said slowly. “He usually takes care of his woodbox in the daytime. And now that I think of it, he usually uses a chainsaw.”
    â€œDid you see him? Or just hear the sounds?” Frank asked.
    She shrugged. “I didn’t go look. Why should I? Oh—do you think what I heard was somebody wrecking Ralph’s longboat?”
    â€œIt’s possible,” Joe replied.
    â€œI can’t believe it,” the woman said, shaking her head.
    â€œThanks for your help,” Frank said. “If you think of anything that might point to who did the damage, will you let us know?”
    The woman promised, then closed her door.
    Frank and Joe stopped by Jake’s store. In response to Joe’s question, Jake told them that he hadn’t been chopping wood. He hadn’t heard anything like that, either, but his bedroom was upstairs at the back, away from the noises of the street.
    The Hardys went back and picked up the grocery cartons and started up the hill toward David’s family’s cabin.
    Frank looked around at the empty, snow-packed trail and the tightly closed cabins, and started to laugh. “ ‘Noises of the street’?” he asked, quoting Jake. “Like what—a lonesome elk taking a midnight stroll?”
    â€œIt is funny,” Joe agreed. “But it means that whoever wrecked Hunter’s boat could be pretty sure no one would see him do it. Do you think this connects with the fire at Peter’s place and the log somebody heaved through the window?”
    â€œIf it doesn’t, it’s quite a coincidence,” Frank replied thoughtfully. “When people live in tight quarters like this, cut off from the rest of theworld all winter long, it can lead to grudges and feuds that go on for years. Maybe somebody finally cracked and decided to get back at all the people he hates.”
    â€œI wonder how Hunter gets along with that guy Willy,” Joe said. “I bet David can tell us. In a place like this, everybody knows everything about everybody.”
    David met them halfway up the hill. “I thought you’d gotten lost,” he said.
    Joe told him about how Ralph Hunter’s boat had been damaged and asked about Willy and Hunter.
    â€œThey don’t get along at all,” David replied. “Haven’t for years. But that’s not a big surprise. About the only person that Willy does get along with is Reeve, Gregg’s father.”
    Frank remembered Hunter’s saying that people were asking him questions about the Iditarod. “Does Hunter have a connection to dogsled racing?” he asked.
    â€œDoes he!” David cried. “He used to be the best musher for fifty miles around! He still knows more about dogs than practically anyone. But he had to sell his team a few years ago. One of his kids needed an operation.”
    â€œThat’s a shame,” Joe said. “But why would people be asking him about this year’s race if he won’t be in it?”
    David looked surprised by the question. “To find out who to bet on,” he said. “The Iditarod is the biggest dogsled race there is. There’s a lot of money won and lost every year. Some people around here are even making bets on whether Gregg and I finish the race and which of us comes in ahead of the other. I guess if you can’t go cheer for your favorite, putting money on him is the next best thing.”
    They arrived at the cabin and took the groceries inside. Then David said, “What do you say to another training run? My team gets fat and lazy if I don’t give them enough exercise.”
    â€œGreat!” Joe said, answering for both the