The Case of the Sleeping Dog (4 page)

The ears should be big and tulip-shaped and without kinks. The eyes should be bold. The tail should be about as long as the body and smoothly tapered.

“I give Hawthorne eighty-two points,” Mr. McRea said.

“A perfect mouse would get one hundred points,” Encyclopedia told Sally. “Fifty for color, fifteen for shape, fifteen for condition and carriage, and five each for ears, eyes, snout, and tail.”

“Since when are you interested in mice?” Sally said.

“I read up on them before we came here,” Encyclopedia admitted.

“I never thought mice could be such a big deal,” Sally said.

“This is serious business,” Encyclopedia replied. “Show mice are bred like racehorses. To have a chance to win, a mouse must not only be good in all features. It must be of a pure color—black, dove, fawn, chocolate, white, red, or silver.”

After watching two more mice being judged, the detectives moved on. They chatted with club members and listened to them share their love of the tiny pets.

At five o’clock the judging ended. The winners were about to be named.

A crowd collected in front of the awards table.

Mr. McRea gave a ten-minute speech on the fun of raising mice as a hobby. Finally he made the big announcement.

Maisie McArthur won first place. A lovely white house mouse, Maisie slept in a silver punch bowl.

“What does Maisie get for winning?” Sally asked.

“She takes a step toward becoming grand champion of the year,” Encyclopedia answered. “That’s about all. The prizes haven’t changed since Abe Lincoln was President: fifty cents for first place, thirty cents for second, and ten cents for third.”

After the second- and third-place winners were named, most of the crowd returned to the mouse pens. The rest started for home.

Encyclopedia bumped into Max Mako. Max was shoving the last of a Venus Peanut Bar into his face.

“I got hungry and ate one of the candy bars I brought for the hurricane relief,” Max said sheepishly.

“Seems like you’re not alone,” Sally said, stooping.

She picked two sourball wrappers off the grass. At that moment Amy Dunn, the Mouse Club secretary, came running up.

“Encyclopedia! Sally!” she cried. “We’ve got trouble.”

She led the detectives to a picnic table at the rear of the show grounds.

Judd Samson, a fifth-grader, stood beside the table, which was loaded with hurricane relief boxes.

“Judd is our club treasurer,” Amy said. “Tell Encyclopedia and Sally what happened.”

“A little before five o’clock I brought the food boxes in
here,” Judd said. “I was getting ready to take a count of what was inside them when I noticed the time. The winning mice were about to be announced. I ran to the awards area. When I got back, the candy—the box marked ‘Sweets’—was gone!”

“Is that the only box missing?” Amy asked.

“So far as I can tell,” Judd said.

“Was anyone else near the boxes?” Sally asked.

“Stinky Redmond and Casimur Tittleby,” Judd answered. “They helped me carry the boxes in here. They left a little before I did to see what mouse won.”

“So no one guarded the boxes for several minutes,” Sally said.

Judd nodded glumly.

He said, “I was trusted with the job of counting what was in the food boxes. So what happens? Some dirty crook steals forty-three candy bars while I’m off finding out what mouse won.”

Sally asked where Stinky Redmond was.

Judd shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since he took off for the awards.”

“Why did Stinky help with the boxes?” Amy said. “When has he ever helped anyone but himself?”

“Never,” Sally agreed. “I wish we could prove he’s guilty!”

“We don’t have to,” Encyclopedia replied.

What did Encyclopedia mean?

(Turn to
this page
for the solution to The Case of the Mouse Show.)

E
ncyclopedia and Sally were biking through South Park when they came upon an odd sight. Two blond men were bound together by a long rope tied around their waists.

Watching them closely was a big woman wearing a blue jacket.

“Ten minutes to go!” she called.

The blond men let out a tired whoop and raised their thumbs to each other.

Nearby stood a group of photographers, TV camera operators, reporters, and curious onlookers. Encyclopedia spotted Pablo Pizzaro, Idaville’s greatest boy artist.

“What’s this all about?” the detective asked.

“It’s a performance art contest,” said Pablo.

“You mean performing arts,” Sally corrected him.

“No, performance art,” Pablo replied. “In performing
arts, people do usual things like dance or sing or play the piano. Performance art is different. People try to create art with their lives.”

“Being tied together is art?” inquired Encyclopedia.

Pablo gave a deep and dreamy sigh. “The performance artist tries to show life’s struggle in a new way. It’s meaningful. It’s now.”

“It’s horsefeathers,” Sally said.

“I see you do not understand,” Pablo declared.

“I understand, all right,” Sally said. “Art today is anything you can get away with.”

“You have to look at living art with an open mind,” Pablo insisted.

“I’d rather look at meat loaf,” Sally said.

The remark stung Pablo. He reacted like a rabbit. The tip of his nose quivered.

When his nose calmed down, he explained the contest that kept two men roped together.

It was staged by the A-1 Natural Rope Company. The purpose was to prove that A-1’s natural rope was the longest-lasting in America. “No Nylon, No Rayon, No Dacron—All Natural!” was the company’s motto.

“Two persons have to stay tied together with the same piece of A-1 Natural Rope seventeen feet in length,” Pablo said. “They can only take the rope off for an hour a day in private.”

“The rope company is over in Glenn City,” Sally said. “Why is the contest in Idaville?”

“The company wanted the last week of the contest to take place here,” Pablo said. “It’s great publicity. Idaville is famous. Besides, we have beaches.”

Encyclopedia pointed at the brothers and asked, “Do those two ever go into the ocean?”

“Every morning,” Pablo answered. “The rope doesn’t bother them. They time their movements perfectly.”

“Where are the others in the contest?” Sally asked.

“At the start there were twenty pairs,” Pablo said. “Nineteen dropped out in a hurry.”

He told the detectives why. One of the rules was that the pair had to stay tied together for almost all of the 31,536,000 seconds that the contest would last.

“When the others realized that many seconds were not just a few days but a year, they quit,” Pablo said. “Only the Hanson brothers over there stuck it out.”

“With the contest down to one pair, the rope company must be really disappointed,” Sally said.

“And how,” replied Pablo. “So to add news interest, kids were allowed to compete today, the last day. They don’t have to be roped. But every half hour they have to do a piece of performance art for three minutes.”

He pointed to his left.

Encyclopedia saw a man in a blue jacket. In front of him were Stinky Redmond, Tessie Bottoms, and Alice Cohen.

“The man and the big woman are judges,” Pablo said. “He’s making sure each kid does something artistic.”

Stinky walked around like a boy who had just stepped in something mushy.

Tessie pushed a stick into the ground and jumped straight up in the air.

Alice lay on her back without moving.

“Good grief, it’s crazy crackers time!” Sally exclaimed.

“It’s performance art,” Pablo corrected. “Stinky is acting like a turkey caught in the rain. Tessie is doing standing pole vaults. Alice is taking on the personality of someone else.”

“Who lies without moving?” Encyclopedia asked.

“Bugs Meany after a fight with Sally,” Pablo said.

Encyclopedia chuckled, then grew thoughtful. “Did a judge watch the brothers all the time?”

“Most of the time, yes,” Pablo answered. “But not all the time. The contest is run on the honor code.”

Suddenly the big woman blew a whistle.

“The year is up!” she cried. “You’ve won!”

The brothers jumped and shouted. They congratulated themselves as if they’d done the nation a great service.

“Art triumphs over every hardship!” Pablo sang. “The brothers will be hired by A-1 to do TV commercials. They’ll get rich.”

“How about the kids?” Sally asked.

“The winning kid gets a bicycle,” Pablo replied.

“I don’t know who will win the bicycle,” Encyclopedia murmured. “But the brothers won’t make a penny.”

Why was Encyclopedia so certain?

(Turn to
this page
for the solution to The Case of the Tied-up Twins.)

V
era Pincus rushed into the Brown Detective Agency.

“Take a last look at the old me,” she cried.

“Old? Golly, you’re only nine,” Sally said.

“I don’t mean age,” Vera said. “I mean poor. The new me is going to be so rich I can buy Rhode Island and ship it to Florida for the winter.”

“Who told you that?” Encyclopedia asked.

“Wilford Wiggins,” Vera replied.

Encyclopedia groaned. He always groaned at the mention of Wilford Wiggins.

Wilford was a high-school dropout and as hardworking as a jellyfish. He lay around all morning dreaming of ways to cheat little kids out of their savings.

Wilford’s phony deals never succeeded, however. Encyclopedia was always there to nip them into duds.

“What’s Wilford selling now?” Sally asked. “The world’s fastest stopwatch?”

“Wilford told me he’s given up cheating,” Vera said. “He’s gone straight.”

As straight, Encyclopedia thought, as a crowbar.

“Wilford called a secret meeting for five o’clock today at the city dump,” Vera said.

“If he offers you a fast deal, see a lawyer,” Sally said. “And if the lawyer says it’s okay, see another lawyer.”

Vera laughed but looked uncertain.