095 An Instinct for Trouble (2 page)

“Yeah, sure,” the tall man said, twisting Nancy’s arm behind her.

Nancy had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

“Looks like we caught ourselves a thief,”

the short, burly guy said, taking a step toward her. An ugly grin contorted his face. “And we know just what to do with her. Right, Rich-

ard?”

“Right,” his buddy replied.

Chapter Two

Come on, you,” Richard growled. He wheeled Nancy around and started pulling her toward the fire pit.

“Get your hands off me!” Nancy said, furi-

ous.

“Not a chance,” he replied, tightening his grip. “Should we take her to the truck. Piker?”

“Yeah,” the other man replied, giving Nancy a shove.

Nancy swung her leg out and brought it up, slamming her knee into Richard’s stomach.

He bent over, giving her the chance to pull away. She was just taking off when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

She whirled around to see Ned hurrying down the path toward her. “Am I ever glad to see you!” she said with relief.

Ned glanced at the two grim-faced men and put his arm around Nancy. “What’s going on here?”

“These guys accused me of being a thief,”

Nancy told him.

“What?” Ned was incredulous. “This is my girlfriend.”

Richard shrugged. “If you say so, but she was nosing around camp. Right, Piker?”

“Right,” Piker said. “We were just looking out for your group,” he told Ned. “We heard there’d been some trouble around here.”

“Well, thanks,” Ned replied. “But like I said. Nancy’s my girlfriend.”

Nancy watched Piker nervously shift his weight. At last he nodded and said, “Well, okay. Let’s get back to work, Richard.” With that, the two men headed off.

“That’s quite a welcoming committee,”

Nancy said.

Before she could say anything else, Ned swept her into his arms. “Hello there,” he said as he lifted her chin with two fingers. The kiss that followed left her breathless. “How’s that for a welcome?”

“Mmm, much better.” Nancy sighed and took in his handsome, square-jawed face and sparkling brown eyes.

Ned led Nancy to one of the logs near the fire pit, and the two of them sat down.

“Who were those guys, anyway?” she asked.

“Park maintenance men,” Ned replied.

“They’re building a walkway near here. It goes to an old cabin near Princess Geyser. What made them think you were a thief?”

“Well,” Nancy said, “I was peeking inside a tent, wondering if it was yours, when they grabbed me. I guess I did look a little suspi-

cious.”

“Even so,” Ned growled, “they had no right to treat you badly.” He took her hand. “Listen, Nan, I’m really sorry I couldn’t meet you at the hotel. The fact is, we have a major crisis.

You know, we’ve tagged hundreds of marmots so we can track them. Well, part of my job is to make sure the receiver is picking up their signals and sending them to the computer so they’re recorded properly.”

Nancy nodded.

“This morning,” he said slowly, “the com-

puter printout showed no trace of almost fifty whistling marmots. At first, I thought we had a problem with the receiver or with the comput-

er, but everything checked out okay. We went out to check the marmot colonies a few hours ago, and it was obvious that some were miss-

ing. There’s only one logical explanation. Some-

one is stealing them!”

“That’s terrible,” Nancy said. “Do you have any idea when it could have happened?”

“We observe the marmots twice a day at four feeding stations,” he explained, pacing now.

“So it had to have happened after the second observation yesterday-probably during the night.”

Nancy shook her head. “It’s hard to believe that people would kill such cute little animals for their fur,” she said disgustedly.

Ned stopped pacing. “It’s not the fur they want,” he replied. “They want the marmots for pets.”

“That’s no excuse for taking them out of their natural habitat,” Nancy said. “Have you reported this to the park service?”

“Sure,” Ned replied. “But without more evidence the park service can’t launch a full-

scale investigation. They just don’t have the financial resources to act on our suspicions.”

“That’s awful,” Nancy said.

“My sentiments exactly,” Ned agreed. “Of course, the park service did assign a really good ranger named Jack Billings to our proj-

ect. But his job is to help us, not track down poachers.”

“Just what is it you’re doing in this project?”

Nancy asked, stretching her legs out. “I know you’re studying marmots. Are they endan-

gered?”

“No, but their cousins, the Vancouver Island marmots, are,” he said. “Professor Trainey’s plan is to research the whistling marmots in Yellowstone so we can figure out what condi-

tions marmots best thrive in. The information we gather here will be used by biologists to breed Vancouver Island marmots in captiv-

ity.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nancy said.

Ned nodded. “From the first moment I heard Professor Trainey talk about the study, I knew I wanted to help. He even got a federal grant to buy a state-of-the-art tracking sys-

tem.”

Nancy cocked her head curiously.

“Imagine a transmitter no bigger than a dime that tells us not only where the animal is,” Ned went on, “but its body temperature, blood pressure, eating and sleeping cycles-

it’s just amazing!”

“And amazingly expensive, I bet,” Nancy commented.

Ned nodded his agreement and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, I’ll show you around. First stop is our command post.”

He led Nancy across the campsite to the tiny cabin she had stopped at earlier. He pulled a key ring from his jeans pocket, undid the padlock, pushed open the door, and switched on the light that dangled from the ceiling.

Nancy followed him inside.

Along one wall was a plank table that held the computer and printer. A small file cabinet in the comer was heaped high with printouts.

“The device that receives the radio signals from the transmitters is outside,” Ned ex-

plained.

Nancy pointed to a door at the other side of the room and asked, “Where does that go?”

“To the supply room,” Ned replied. “That’s what we call it, but it’s really just a glorified closet. Still, it’s big enough to hold traps, sacks of food pellets, and other equipment.”

“Is that where the traps were stolen from?”

Nancy said.

“Some of them,” Ned answered. “But we’ve got four marmot observation stations, and we keep traps in the huts there, too.” Ned leaned against the worktable. “It makes me sick to think that the poachers are using our equip-

ment to steal marmots!”

Nancy returned to the door and studied the padlock. The shiny brass lock was un-

scratched. “Who has keys to this cabin?” she asked.

“Just the professor and Brad,” Ned replied.

“These are the professor’s keys I have. He gave them to me. We were at observation station two, but he wanted me to come back to check the computer to see if any signals from the missing marmots had shown up.”

“Could I see one of the traps?” Nancy asked.

Ned went through the other door and re-

turned with a wire cage with open doors at each end.

“We put food inside,” Ned explained.

“When a marmot steps in to get it, its weight triggers a spring that closes the doors.”

Ned picked up a small disk attached to a plastic collar. “Then we attach a transmitter to the animal’s neck.”

Nancy studied the collar. “And the marmots don’t mind?”

“Usually not,” Ned said with a smile. “Now and then we have to tranquilize one.” He indicated a small hypodermic syringe on a shelf.

Nancy shuddered.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he insisted. “And anyway, we don’t have to do it very often. Most of the marmots, especially those under two years old, are really cooperative.”

“What happens after the collar is on?” she asked.

“Each transmitter has its own identifying signal,” Ned told her. “All of them are picked up on our receiver and automatically fed into the computer. Then, two times a day, we download the file and chart the movements of the animals we’re tracking. Since Brad’s acci-

dent, that’s been my job.”

“How’s Brad doing?” Nancy asked.

“Better,” Ned said. “But they’ve kept him pretty heavily sedated. No one’s been able to see him.”

“Where did he get hurt?” Nancy queried.

“Up the hill in the hut at observation post one,” Ned replied.

“I’d like to see it,” Nancy said.

Ned led Nancy to the trail that wound up the hill. At the top of the slope, Ned halted.

“Well,” he said with a sweep of his hand, “this is it. We have three other feeding stations, but this is the most important one.”

Nancy looked around. They were on level ground now. A circular area about the size of a football field had been fenced off with chicken wire.

“This is a marmot community, and that’s one of their burrows,” Ned explained, point-

ing to a raised mound on the far side of the chicken wire.

Inside the enclosure Nancy noticed a slim girl about her own age leaning down to a burrow. She was wearing a checked shirt, straight-legged jeans, and suede boots. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had pale blue eyes and an oval face with a pronounced widow’s peak. When she saw Nancy and Ned, she came over to greet them.

“Hi, Jennifer, this is Nancy Drew,” Ned said casually. “Nancy, meet Jennifer Trainey.”

“Hi, Jennifer,” Nancy said. “Trainey-are you related to the professor?”

“He’s my dad,” Jennifer said quickly, then added with a slight smile, “Ned didn’t tell me he was expecting company.”

Nancy was about to respond when she no-

ticed a flicker of movement from inside the enclosure. She saw a small head peering out of one of the burrows. As she watched, delighted, a marmot emerged. Another was close behind.

They were reddish brown with yellow abdo-

mens and black rings near their bushy tails.

“Meet Click and Clack, our most sociable specimens,” Jennifer said.

“They’re adorable.” Nancy glanced at Jen-

nifer. “You must have been in on this project from the very beginning.”

Jennifer laughed. “Since before the very beginning,” she replied.

The two marmots finished eating. One sat up on its hind legs. The furry creature had a wide head with short, rounded ears, large eyes, and a black button nose. It cocked its head sideways as if to ask Nancy what she was doing there and then began grooming itself.

“Wait until Bess sees these. She’ll go crazy,”

Nancy said. “It looks like they’d be really fun to work with.”

“Oh, they are!” Jennifer exclaimed. “Right now I’m monitoring the day care center.”

“Day care center?” Nancy echoed.

“While the parents are out foraging for food, the older members of the community stay in the entrances to the burrows, making sure the babies are safe,” Jennifer explained. “If they sense danger, they give a shrill ear-piercing whistle.”

“Did many marmots disappear from this feeding station?” Nancy asked.

Jennifer raised her eyebrows.

“It’s okay,” Ned said quickly. “I told Nancy about what happened. She can be trusted-

she’s my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Jennifer said smoothly. “How long are you here for?”

“A few days,” Nancy replied.

“Great,” Jennifer said, though Nancy doubted her sincerity. “Well, I’d better get back to work,” she went on without answering Nancy’s question. “See you later.”

As Jennifer walked away, Nancy turned to Ned. “She’s incredibly pretty,” she said.

Ned reddened and shrugged, then led Nancy toward a small hut. As they approached it, Nancy noticed a metal box on top of a pole.

She saw another one just like it about fifty yards farther along the fence. “What are those things?” she asked.

“Time-lapse cameras,” Ned replied.

“They’re set to take exposures every fifteen minutes. They even record the date and time at the bottom of each negative.”

“Incredible,” Nancy said, then pointed to the hut. “Is that where Brad was hurt?”

“Yeah,” Ned replied. “We keep a few snacks and drinks in there. Apparently, Brad was heating water for coffee. When boom! I heard the explosion and ran up the hill. Brad was lying across the doorstep, unconscious.”

Nancy shook her head sympathetically.

“The force of the explosion must have blown him out the door. He’s lucky he wasn’t killed.”

Inside the hut were two chairs and a folding table covered with computer printouts and camera gear. Several bags of food pellets and a stack of traps lined the far wall. Above it was a shelf with a canister of sugar, instant coffee, and tea bags.

Nancy pointed to a blackened object in the comer of the room. “Is that the stove that blew up?”

Ned nodded, and she went over to it. The stove consisted of one burner attached by a copper tube to a canister of propane. Nancy checked the propane tank. The fitting between it and the tubing was tight, but when she traced a path up the tubing to the nut that connected it to the burner, she let out a gasp.

“Find something?” Ned asked.

Nancy held the tubing and the bolt up to the light. “Look at this,” she said. “See those scratch marks? Someone’s tampered with the nut,”

Ned’s eyes narrowed. “That means when Brad turned on the stove, propane started escaping.”

“Exactly,” Nancy agreed. “And when he lit the match, there was an explosion.”

Ned straighted up. “So it wasn’t an accident.

Someone deliberately tried to hurt Brad!”

Chapter Three

Or kill him,” Nancy added as she de-

tached the tube and put it in the pocket of her jacket. “This is our first piece of evidence.”

From the doorway, someone spoke up.

“What’s going on here?”

Nancy turned and saw a lanky man of about fifty, whose black hair was sprinkled with gray at the temples. He had a deeply tanned face and a wide, unsmiling mouth. A tall, dark, good-looking guy in a ranger uniform and a young woman clad in blue jeans and a purple Emerson College sweatshirt stood just behind him.