Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Disgusting Sneakers (4 page)

“Tyrone is sweet, but unfair,” Sally muttered.

“It’s his party,” Encyclopedia said. “Maybe today I’ll win something. I came close two years ago.”

Two years ago he had placed second in a new game, Make Like. The idea then was to make like a walrus singing “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

Encyclopedia had done well, tying with Linda Mills. After a sing-off, Linda had been awarded the prize.

“You were gypped in the sing-off,” Sally said. “Linda sounded like a moose stuck in the mud. At every one of his parties, Tyrone makes sure his girl of the month wins a prize.”

“Today will be different,” Encyclopedia said.

“Why?”

“Tyrone’s mother will do the judging—at least of the brain game.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Sally grumbled.

She didn’t grumble for long. The next
game was shooting baskets. She sank six shots in a row and won easily.

The games went on for another hour.

Farnsworth Grant won at darts. Benny Breslin won the croquet tournament. Edith Martin won Simon Says. There were prizes for all the winners.

Adorabelle Walsh won the cherry spit for distance. Encyclopedia had his best finish. He breathed in when he should have breathed out. He wound up coughing and nearly choking. The war in his throat shot out the third longest spit.

Shortly before three o’clock, Mrs. Taylor, Tyrone’s mother, announced the brain game.

The children went inside. Chester Jenkins took a position close to the dining room. Encyclopedia settled on a chair in the rear.

Mrs. Taylor passed out pencils and paper.

“The object is to write down nine common body parts that have only three letters,” she said. “First, put your name at the top of the sheet.”

She waited for the children to write their names.

“When you have written nine body parts, raise your hand,” she said. “Ready, everyone? You have ten minutes. Go!”

Encyclopedia watched Cindy Hayes, Tyrone’s latest girlfriend. She wrote for six or seven minutes. Then she stopped. Her brow wrinkled.

None of the other children wrote anything for the last three minutes.

“They’re stumped,” thought Encyclopedia.

“Time’s up!” Mrs. Taylor called. “Has anyone got nine?”

Heads shook glumly.

“How many have eight?”

Chester and Cindy raised their hands.

Mrs. Taylor took their papers and read them. Tyrone looked over her shoulder.

“We have a tie,” she said. “I’ll give Chester and Cindy three more minutes to think of a body part they missed.”

She handed Chester and Cindy their papers.

“Ready, start!”

Tyrone left the room and came back a minute later, chewing.

Cindy glanced at him questioningly.

Tyrone stopped chewing and grinned. Then he blew a small pink bubble and quickly sucked it back into his mouth.

Cindy wrote on her paper. “Nine! I have nine!” she called.

Mrs. Taylor took her list and read it. “Nine it is.”

She gave Cindy her prize, a checkers set.

Sally cornered Encyclopedia. “Cindy cheated, but I don’t know how. I just know it! Encyclopedia, prove Tyrone helped her!”

“I’ll have to see her list,” Encyclopedia said. “But I’m pretty sure I know how Tyrone helped.”

HOW?

(Turn to
this page
for the solution to The Case of the Brain Game.)

E
ncyclopedia and Sally were biking past the golf course when they spied Otis Dibbs. Otis had on pants.

The detectives stopped and stared.

During the summer, Otis went around the golf course in a bathing suit and snorkel. He recovered golf balls from the ponds and streams. He sold the balls to players who wanted cheap ones to lose again.

“What’s wrong, Otis?” Sally called.

“Not a thing,” Otis assured her. “Fact is, I’m retiring. It’s good-bye to muddy water,
broken bottles, snakes, and snapping turtles. Easy life, here I come!”

“Did somebody leave you a lot of money?” Encyclopedia inquired.

“Nope,” Otis replied. “But soon I’m going to be independently wealthy. Wilford Wiggins has called a secret meeting for five o’clock by the sixteenth hole. He promised to make us little kids crazy rich. We’ll be able to buy our own candy store and give it away when the candy runs out.”

“Oh, not Wilford again,” Encyclopedia said painfully.

Wilford Wiggins was a high-school dropout, and too lazy to stretch. He spent his mornings in bed dreaming up ways to gyp the children of the neighborhood out of their savings.

Encyclopedia had always been able to stop Wilford’s phony deals.

Only last week the detective had kept Wilford from selling shares in a pink pill that was supposed to cure athlete’s foot and help you see in the dark.

“How is Wilford going to make you rich today?” Sally asked. “With a baseball that throws itself?”

“He didn’t say,” Otis answered. “He just promised to put us close to a good thing.”

“But not close enough to touch,” Encyclopedia said.

“Wilford may be telling the truth this time,” Otis protested.

“When has Wilford told the truth?” Sally demanded. “He hates liars so much, he never speaks to himself.”

Otis suddenly looked worried. He took a quarter from his pocket. “I’d better hire you to make sure I’m not cheated.”

“We’ll do our best,” Encyclopedia said.

“It’s nearly five o’clock,” Sally noted. “We’d better move.”

Otis led the two detectives to a small, worthless-looking strip of woods past the sixteenth hole.

Wilford Wiggins stood beside a huge old tree. A crowd of boys and girls waited for his words of wealth.

Wilford raised his arms. “Move in closer, everyone!” he shouted. “I don’t want any of my young friends to miss this once-in-a-lifetime chance—”

He broke off. He had seen Encyclopedia and Sally with Otis.

He recovered quickly and said, “Every kid is welcome, even nosy-bodies who weren’t invited to this secret meeting.”

He pulled a sheet of paper from a sack at his feet and held it above his head.

“Do you know what this is?” he cried. “It tells where Black Jack Lefever buried his
treasure!”

Everyone had heard of Black Jack Lefever, the pirate. He had buried a fortune in Idaville ten feet from a landmark, a small young tree. He had carved his name on the trunk.

“This is a copy of a page from his ship’s log,” Wilford said. “It gives directions on how to get from the small tree to the buried treasure.”

“So what?” hollered Otis. “You can buy a framed copy of that page in every gift store in Idaville. Then all you have to do is find the tree with Black Jack’s name on it.”

“Right, friend,” Wilford said. “Nobody found the tree—till yours truly!
It’s this one!”

He tapped the huge tree beside him.

“With Black Jack’s directions and this tree, we can find the place where the treasure is buried!” he sang.

“What are we waiting for?” Otis shouted. “Let’s dig!”

“I don’t own this land,” Wilford pointed out. “We’d have to give back anything we find here today. But we can own the land if each of you buys a share in the treasure. I’m asking a mere five dollars a share. The more shares you buy, the more treasure you’ll get.”

“First show us Black Jack’s name on the tree,” Otis hollered.

“It’s up there,” Wilford said. “According to his notes in the ship’s log, Black Jack carved it when the tree was only about eight feet high—more than a century ago. The tree has grown so tall, it’s hard to see the carving from the ground.”

Wilford took a pair of binoculars from the sack. He handed them to Otis. “Look for yourself.”

Otis peered through the binoculars. He raised them slowly up the trunk of the tree, till they were pointed at a spot some twenty feet above the ground.

“I can read something,” he gasped. “It’s—
Black Jack Lefever!”

The binoculars were eagerly passed
around. Each child saw the name carved on the tree trunk. Yelps of glee were followed by yelps of greed.

“Remember, don’t tell anyone,” Wilford warned. “If our secret gets out, the price of this land will soar. We won’t be able to afford it. The big shots at the golf club will keep it and get all Black Jack’s gold and jewels.”

The children swore themselves to secrecy. They lined up to buy shares in the treasure.

“Hold on to your money,” Encyclopedia told them. “Black Jack didn’t bury his treasure here.”

WHAT MADE ENCYCLOPEDIA CERTAIN?

(Turn to
this page
for the solution to The Case of Black Jack’s Treasure.)

S
unday at one o’clock, Encyclopedia biked to Ike Ryan’s house for an afternoon of chess.

Ike had just made the first move when his mother entered the room. She was carrying three skirts.

“Fashion show,” she announced.

The boys stopped playing. Mr. Ryan, who was seated in an easy chair, laid his newspaper on his lap.

“Let’s see what you bought, dear,” he said.

Mrs. Ryan held the three skirts, one after
another, to her waist. “Like them?”

“The tan and the plaid are lovely,” Mr. Ryan said. “I don’t care for the gray one.”

“You’re right. I don’t like it so much as the other two, either,” Mrs. Ryan said. “I’ll take it back.”

She folded the skirts and carried them into the kitchen. Presently Encyclopedia heard her talking on the telephone.

“This is Mrs. Ryan.… Yes.… Good.… In half an hour? … Yes, I’ve decided to get rid of the gray. I don’t like it.… No, the length is all right.”

She returned to the living room.

“I’m off to the shopping center and then to Grandma’s,” she said. “See you around six.”

After she left, the two boys settled down to their chess match. Ike lost three straight games. He threw up his hands.

“Someday I’m going to beat you,” he swore.

“How about another?” Encyclopedia suggested. “It’s only two-thirty.”

“No, thanks,” replied Ike. “Yesterday I borrowed a pamphlet on chess from Hewitt
Dawkins. I don’t want to be late returning it.”

“Good thinking,” Encyclopedia said.

Hewitt was seventeen and the biggest chess player in Idaville. He was known for his quick moves and his quicker temper.

Ike said, “Hewitt said that if I didn’t return the pamphlet by four o’clock today—oooh, boy. People will start asking me if I’ve ever been dead.”

“Holy cow,” Encyclopedia exclaimed. “Get going!”

Ike hurried to the front door. Moments later, he came back holding a white-paper shopping bag. His mouth was open wide, as if he’d just bitten into a mothball.

“Mom took my shopping bag with Hewitt’s pamphlet in it!” he wailed.

He explained. He had put the pamphlet into a white-paper shopping bag. Then he had stood the bag by the front door to remind him to return the pamphlet.

“Mom must have put her gray skirt into my shopping bag by mistake,” he said. “She left her empty bag behind.”

Mr. Ryan lowered his newspaper. “Didn’t
you hear her on the telephone? She’s gone to return it.”