Encyclopedia Brown Tracks Them Down (2 page)

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Authors: Donald J. Sobol

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“Yes,” agreed Mr. Rico. “He is a champion water skier. But he didn’t want anyone to see him learning to ski on snow and perhaps looking silly. So he kept his trip a secret.”
“He
must
have told someone besides his wife,” said Chief Brown. “And that someone worked with the kidnappers.”
Mr. Rico nodded. “But whom did Mr. Ware tell?”
Chief Brown looked at Encyclopedia.
Encyclopedia whispered, “He told...”
WHOM?
 
 
(Turn to page 87 for the solution to The Case of the
Champion Skier.)
The Case of Smelly Nellie
Encyclopedia helped his father solve mysteries at the dinner table all year around. In the summer, he helped the children of the neighborhood as well.
When school let out, he opened his own detective agency in the garage. Every morning he hung out his sign:
BROWN DETECTIVE AGENCY
13 Rover Avenue
Leroy Brown, President
No case too small
25 per day
plus expenses
One day Smelly Nellie came into the garage. She was only nine years old. Yet she already had earned the money for her college education.
She had done it with her nose alone.
When she was eight, she had saved the city hall from being blown to kingdom come. She had sniffed out a leak in the gas line running into the building just as Mr. Barnes, the mayor, was about to light a cigar nearby.
As a reward, the city council had set aside money to pay her way through the college of her choice.
After that, no one called her by her real name, Nelita Theodora Shortridge. Everyone called her Smelly Nellie for short.
Her nose didn’t stop at sniffing gas leaks. It could smell a marshmallow roast—or anything else—three blocks away, rain or shine.
When she came into the Brown Detective Agency, however, she wasn’t using her nose. She was holding it.
“Ambergris,” she gagged.
Encyclopedia had read about ambergris. It is passed out by sick whales. It is found floating in southern waters and is used in making perfume.
“Don’t just sit there,” piped Smelly Nellie. “Bring a bottle of oil of peppermint!”
Encyclopedia jumped to it. Within twenty seconds he was shoving an open bottle under Smelly Nellie’s wonderful nose. She breathed deeply.
“Thanks,” she sighed. “It’s the only thing to clear the passages.”
“What snarled the sneezer?” asked Encyclopedia.
“Did you ever stand close to ambergris?” asked Smelly Nellie. “It’s worse than being scorekeeper at a skunk fight.”
She laid twenty-five cents on the gas can beside Encyclopedia.
“I want you to get back my ambergris,” she said. “Bugs Meany stole it!”
“Give Bugs a free hand, and he’ll stick it right into your pocket,” said Encyclopedia.
Bugs Meany was the leader of a gang of tough older boys. Encyclopedia had often been hired to stop their stealing and cheating.
“Let’s go speak with Bugs,” said Encyclopedia.
The two children took the Number 7 bus. During the ride, Smelly Nellie told her story.
She had found the ambergris washed up on the beach at Lighthouse Point that morning while she was smelling for clams.
“Bugs Meany and his Tigers were skin diving offshore,” she said. “I asked them to help me get the stuff home.”
The Tigers had laughed and told her to go chase herself. So Smelly Nellie had to tell them the truth. A company in New York City was paying five dollars an ounce for ambergris.
“I found a lump that must weigh fifty pounds,” she said.
Encyclopedia whistled and did some figuring: sixteen times fifty times five—four thousand dollars!
“That’s enough money to buy a car,” he said.
“Bugs Meany thought the same,” said Smelly Nellie. “When he heard what ambergris is worth, he asked me if I thought he’d look good in a sports car. Then he told me to scram.”
The Tigers were lying on their backs, holding their noses and moaning.
The bus halted at the last stop, and the children got off. They walked along the beach toward Lighthouse Point.
After about a mile, Smelly Nellie gave a cry and pinched her nose. Encyclopedia took the warning and did likewise.
Another few steps brought them around a bend. They saw the lighthouse and the Tigers.
The Tigers had done no more than beach their boat. They were lying on their backs, holding their noses and groaning.
The lump of ambergris was still on the wet sand at the high-tide line. It looked like a ball of dark-gray wax.
“The Tigers haven’t got away with the stuff yet,” said Smelly Nellie gleefully. “The smell flattened ’em!”
Bugs Meany was the first to see Smelly Nellie and the boy detective. He shouted the alarm and sat up weakly.
“Beat it,” he growled at Encyclopedia. “Or I’ll yank your tongue so hard your ears will roll up like window shades.”
Encyclopedia was used to Bugs’s greeting. “The ambergris belongs to Smelly Nellie,” he said. “She found the lump this morning.”
“Me and my Tigers found the lump on the bottom of the ocean while we were skin diving,” retorted Bugs.
“Then how did it get on the beach?” demanded Encyclopedia.
“We rolled it under the water,” replied Bugs Meany. “Then we waited for the tide to go out so we could lift it into the boat.”
“Y-you horse’s neck!” cried Smelly Nellie. “You’re lying!”
“And I can prove it,” added Encyclopedia.
 
HOW?
 
 
(Turn to page 88 for the solution to
The Case of Smelly Nellie.)
The Case of the Flying Submarine
The only thing Bugs Meany wanted for Christmas was a chance to get even with Encyclopedia.
Bugs hated being outsmarted by the boy detective. He longed to screw Encyclopedia’s head around so people would talk in front of his face behind his back.
But every time Bugs got such ideas, he remembered Sally Kimball, Encyclopedia’s junior partner. Sally was the prettiest girl in the fifth grade and the best athlete.
She was also the only one—boy or girl—un—der twelve whom Bugs feared. Every time he had mixed with her, she had left him on the ground to cool.
Because of Sally, Bugs never tried to push Encyclopedia around. He never stopped trying to gain revenge, however.
“We’d better watch out for Bugs,” warned Sally. “He’s like a man fixing a ten-foot clock. He’s always trying to get the upper hand.”
The detectives were biking into town to look over the new line of cheese cakes at the Tasty Delicatessen. They had taken a shortcut, which was a mistake. The dirt path was slippery with mud after a two-day rain.
The path led near Mr. Sweeny’s Auto Body Shop. Behind the shop stood the old tool shed which Bugs and his Tigers used for a clubhouse.
As the clubhouse came into view, a helicopter roared overhead. Encyclopedia glanced up and saw a tiny gray submarine flying through the air. It crashed into the thick woods west of the clubhouse.
Encyclopedia and Sally jumped off their bikes. They dashed for the woods as Bugs Meany and two of his Tigers, Dutch Kuller and Jess Rae, came racing out of the clubhouse.
They all drew up at the muddy edge of a hollow. At the bottom rested the submarine. It was smashed, a total loss.
“Man, oh, man!” cried Bugs. “It’s an enemy bomb!”
“It’s a mini-sub, you baboon,” corrected Sally.
“Who ever heard of a sub that small and round?” jeered Bugs. “It’s some kind of long-range bomb, that’s what it is, sent by a certain country to blast us Tigers!”
Bugs raved on about how “a certain country” was out to get every real American, like his Tigers. Encyclopedia looked up at the sky. The helicopter had flown away. There was no place for it to land near the woods.
Sally started down the muddy slope toward the sub.
“Stay back!” hollered Bugs. “That thing can go off any second!”
He winked at Dutch and Jess. Then he stuck out his foot, tripping Sally. She rolled down the slope.
“It’s an enemy spaceship,” sang Bugs. “Those purple guys from Mars carry freeze guns. They’ll turn you into an ice-cream pie,
rat-tat-tat.”
“Darn you, Bugs Meany,” gasped Sally, wiping mud from her eyes.
Bugs stepped toward Encyclopedia. “Us Tigers will stand guard till the FBI arrives,” he said. “You and Miss Mud Bath can clear out—now!”
“And give you a chance to steal everything inside the sub?” asked Encyclopedia. “Not on your life.”
“Okay, Mr. Foxy Nose,” snarled Bugs. He lifted his fists. “You’ve been asking for this all summer. Nobody’s around, so—”
“Don’t you dare!” shouted Sally.
“Stay out of it,” warned Bugs. “I don’t want to dirty my hands on you.” He made a great show of flicking a speck of mud from his otherwise clean pants.
Bugs stuck out his foot, tripping Sally.
Jess strutted to where Sally was struggling up the slope from the submarine. “Me and Dutch will handle the dame,” he boasted.
He bent to push Sally. All at once he was sliding in the mud.
Sally had grabbed his arm and yanked. Before Jess knew what was coming next, she had hit him in the stomach. The one punch tamed all three Tigers.
Jess lay in the mud making noises like a falling roof. Bugs and Dutch looked as if the roof had fallen on them.
“J-Jess!” spluttered Dutch. “C-can you breathe?”
Jess’s reply was lost in the scream of police sirens. In a few minutes six officers, led by Chief Brown, had circled the sub.
Encyclopedia learned from his father what was going on. The sub had been on its way to the Naval Base for tests.
“When it fell from the sling, the pilot radioed police headquarters,” said Chief Brown. “It’s a secret weapon. We must guard it till the Navy people can take over.”

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