The Case of the Sleeping Dog (5 page)

She laid twenty-five cents on the gas can beside Encyclopedia. “I’ll hire you to make sure Wilford has really turned honest.”

“We’ll take the case,” Sally said eagerly.

Wilford was starting his sales pitch when the detectives and Vera arrived at the city dump.

“Come closer, come closer,” Wilford chanted at the crowd of small children. “I don’t want any of my little pals to miss this chance of a lifetime.”

“Aw, get on with it,” a boy shouted. “Let’s hear some big-bucks talk.”

“Stick with me and you’ll see nothing but big bucks, friend,” Wilford yawped. “Take a look!”

He pointed to the sky.

“I don’t see anything,” the boy said.

“When night comes,” Wilford proclaimed, “you’ll see the answer to your dreams. Every star is worth fifty bucks!”

He paused to let his words sink in.

“Stars have numbers, but few have names,” he resumed. “So I’m forming a company, Name Your Star. It will offer people a chance to name a star after anyone or anything. The price will be fifty dollars a name.”

“Nobody here has fifty dollars,” Vera protested.

“I’m not selling stars to my pals,” Wilford said. “I’m giving you a chance to buy shares in my Name Your Star company at a special low, low price!”

“How can you be sure that the star a customer chooses hasn’t already got a name?” a girl asked.

“A chart of all the unnamed stars you can see has been made by my partner, Professor Hans Zingler, the great German astronomer,” Wilford said. “Unfortunately, he met with an accident this morning.”

Professor Zingler’s plane from Germany had landed that morning at eight o’clock, Wilford said. The plane came in from the south. It nosed up to a gate at the north end of the airport, where international flights unloaded.

There something went wrong, Wilford said. The covered bridge that passengers walk through from the plane to the airport building didn’t work. The passengers had to leave by a set of stairs rolled to the door.

“As Professor Zingler stepped onto the top stair,” Wilford went on, “the bright sun hit him directly in the eyes, half blinding him. He dropped his suitcase. It broke open. The wind scattered what was inside—the charts of unnamed stars.”

“Where does that leave us?” a girl demanded.

“Professor Zingler has sent to Germany for copies of the charts,” Wilford said. “They’ll be here in a few days.”

“Then we’d better wait,” a boy said.

“I can’t wait,” Wilford declared. “I need to start the company before somebody beats me to it. I’ll have to raise the cash in New York City or Chicago.”

Wilford fell silent for a long moment. He seemed to be wrestling with the problem.

“I’ll never forgive myself if I let my little pals miss out on such easy money,” he said mournfully. “So I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”

He leaned forward and flashed an oily smile.

“I’ll let you buy shares in my company for five dollars a share if you buy now. Today only, I’ll throw in the big one—you can name a star for free! Tomorrow it’ll cost fifty bucks.”

Excitement swept the crowd. There were enough stars to sell to all the people in the world at fifty bucks apiece.

By owning a little of the company, every kid in the dump would be worth millions!

It was too good a deal to miss.

The children lined up to buy shares.

“Encyclopedia, don’t let Wilford walk off with their savings!” Sally pleaded.

“He won’t get a cent,” Encyclopedia said.

What was Wilford’s slip?

(Turn to
this page
for the solution to The Case of Wilford’s Big Deal.)

C
hester Jenkins, one of Encyclopedia’s pals, was known to eat so fast that his knife and fork gave off sparks.

The size of his waistline caused a few unfriendly kids to call him a walking tomato.

“Chester starts a seven-day diet tomorrow,” Encyclopedia said.

“I hope he doesn’t finish it in one day,” replied Sally.

The detectives were biking to Chester’s house. He had invited them to a professional soccer game in nearby Glenn City.

Chester was standing on his front lawn when the detectives arrived. He was jawing with Ed Burgess.

Stomach for stomach, the two boys were an even match.

“Ed’s folks don’t like to take him to a restaurant,” Sally said. “The last time they did, he looked at the menu and ordered page three.”

The two champion eaters were going at each other hot and heavy.

“Milk of human kindness,” Ed barked.

“Cheese it,” Chester responded.

“Full of beans.”

“Cool as a cucumber.”

Roscoe Tenn, one of Bugs Meany’s Tigers, came by. He stopped to listen.

“What’s this all about?” he inquired.

“Beats me,” Sally said.

“Is anything in your room in apple-pie order?” Ed flung at Chester.

“Full of ginger,” Chester flung back.

“Duel with me and you’ll end up
in
the soup,” Ed warned.

“Tight as a clam.”

“Ham actor.”

“Can’t these two blimps talk about anything but eats?” Roscoe muttered in disgust. “I’m going home.”

He hoofed it for the shortcut behind Chester’s house.

“We’re having a food-sayings duel,” Chester told the detectives, and swung back into action. “Other fish to fry.”

“She’s a peach,” Ed retorted.

“Takes the cake.”

“Brown as a berry.” Ed spoke bravely, but he was clearly struggling to keep up.

“Don’t flounder,” Chester snapped.

Ed sneered. “Full of beans.”

“A repeat!” Chester cried triumphantly, and blasted away. “Good egg! Red herring! Couch potato! Top banana! Cut the mustard! Pie in the sky!”

Ed threw up his hands. “Okay, I’m licked.”

“That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” Chester said.

“Nuts,” Ed grumbled, and trudged off in defeat.

“You were great, Chester,” Sally said.

“Thanks,” Chester said. “We’d better be on our way. The soccer game starts in an hour.”

The detectives followed him up to his room to get the tickets. Chester took a can labeled
NEW ENGLAND CLAM CHOWDER
from a shelf above his desk.

“This isn’t a can you buy at a supermarket,” he said. “It’s a tiny safe.”

He unscrewed the bottom of the can and peered inside.

“Empty!” he gasped. “Somebody stole the tickets!”

“Who knew you had tickets?” Sally asked.

“Lots of kids,” Chester said. “I’ve talked about the game for days.”

“But who knew you kept them in that can?” Sally said.

Chester frowned. “Ed Burgess knew. I showed it to him before we went outside.”

“What was Ed doing here?” Sally asked.

“His aunt bought him a French cookbook. He wanted me to try out a fancy cheesecake recipe this afternoon,” Chester replied.

“Ed brings over a cookbook,” Encyclopedia said, “even though he knows you won’t have time to bake a cheesecake before the soccer game. How interesting …”

Sally said, “First Ed gets Chester to talk about the game. Then he gets him to tell where he keeps the tickets.”

Chester winced. “That’s just what happened. I guess I wanted to show off the can. I never dreamed he’d steal from me.”

Sally looked puzzled. “How could Ed have stolen the tickets without Chester seeing him?”

“Yes, how?” Chester said. “After I showed him the fake can of New England Clam Chowder, we left the room. Ed never touched the can.”

“Who suggested the food-sayings duel, you or Ed?” Encyclopedia asked.

“Ed,” Chester answered.

“So,” Encyclopedia said. “Ed had a partner.”

“What?” Sally asked, at a loss. “Who?”

“Roscoe Tenn,” Encyclopedia answered. “When Roscoe said he was going home, he really went up to your room by the back door and stole the tickets.”

“No one would have seen him,” Chester said thoughtfully. “My folks are at work. So is my sister. The house is empty. But how did Roscoe know where the tickets were hidden?”

Encyclopedia smiled. “Ed told him.”

“Ed never spoke a word to Roscoe!” Sally objected.

“Oh, yes, he did,” corrected Encyclopedia.

How did Ed tell Roscoe the hiding place?

(Turn to
this page
for the solution to The Case of the Fake Soup Can.)

C
hester Jenkins’s twin sister, Candice, ate nearly as much as he did.

Around the neighborhood she was known by many names, including the Walking Fork.

Candice took the kidding with a sense of humor and went on eating.

To keep herself in goodies, she had gone into business. She shined shoes on the corner of Fifth and Main Streets.

Saturday morning Encyclopedia and Sally stopped at the corner. Candice wasn’t in sight.

On the sidewalk were the tools of her trade: a folding chair, a metal footrest fixed to a box that held cleaners, polishes, brushes, and ten-ounce cloths called rags.

Halfway down the block the door of Ted’s Donut Shop opened. Candice stepped forth eating a donut.

“You shouldn’t leave your things out like this,” Sally told her. “Someone might take them.”

“I lost my head,” Candice replied. “Today is Ted’s Donut Shop’s grand opening. You get two donuts for the price of one all day.…”

She stared at the box by the chair.

“The sock with my money!” she yelped. “It’s gone!”

“Oh, dear,” Sally said. “How much was in it?”

“I always start work with ten dollars to make change,” Candice replied. “Today I was going to try something different. I brought only quarters.”

“If a customer gives you a five-dollar bill, he won’t like getting all his change in coins,” Sally observed. “That’s extra weight to carry around.”

“Exactly the point,” Candice said. “To get rid of some of the weight, he’ll tip more.”

“What a great bit of thinking!” Sally exclaimed.

Encyclopedia said, “The thief had to move fast while you were in the donut shop. That means he knew where to look. Who knows about the sock?”

“Two of Bugs Meany’s Tigers,” Candice answered. “Mugsy Moonsooner and Jimbo Dawson. We’re in the same business.”