The Case of the Missing Book (Part 2)

[If you missed Part 1 last week, you might want to go back and read that first.  Enjoy, and this one will be more exciting, I promise!]

“Well, here’s the address,” said Kurt.  “What was the name of that book again?”

“Gardening under Cover: A Northwest Guide to Solar Greenhouses, Cold Frames, and Cloches,” replied Jack.  “We forgot to write down the author, but—”

“There can’t be more than one with that title,” finished Kurt.

“This looks like a place someone who read that book would live,” said Robbie.  He was referring to two large greenhouses in the backyard.  Even from a small distance, the boys could tell they were full of plants.

“We might have to search the greenhouses for it,” said Kurt.

“I doubt that,” observed Jack.  “He’s obviously into gardening, so he probably would have found it by now if it was in there.”

“He may have found it a few years ago,” pointed out Robbie, “and been scared off by whatever the fine was then.”

“Possibly,” said Jack.  “Before we do any looking, though, we should get permission from him first.”

“Should we try the front door or the greenhouse?” asked Kurt.

Jack picked the front door, and they walked up the sidewalk to the large, old-fashioned, three-story house.  He reached the door and knocked.

There was no answer after a minute, so he knocked again.  Still no answer.

“He may be in the greenhouses,” said Kurt.

“One of them,” said Robbie.  “He can’t be in both of them at the same time.”

“Do you really think I didn’t know that?” said Kurt, in mock anger.  “You’re just as bad as Emma when she’s been studying grammar.”

Jack laughed at the comparison to his little sister.  Emma could be a little annoying sometimes, but she was worth it.  That didn’t keep her out of the boys’ jokes, though.

“Let’s try the greenhouses,” he said.  Kurt knocked on the closest one to the house, and he wound up being right, for an old man dressed in overalls put down some trimmers (I’m not sure of the exact term) and walked over to the door of it.

“Yes, what can I do for you young fellows?” he asked.

“Are you Douglas Croft?” said Jack.

“That’s been my name for seventy-eight years,” replied the man, “and I don’t plan on changing it.”

Jack laughed.  “Mr. Croft, do you remember checking out a book titled Gardening under Cover: A Northwest Guide to Solar Greenhouses, Cold Frames, and Cloches?”

“By William Head!” exclaimed a surprised Mr. Croft.  “Yes, I did read that book.  It’s what got me interested in building these greenhouses.  I knew I wanted to garden, but I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to do.  William Head had some great suggestions, and I took a lot of his advice while building it.  You’ve brought back pleasant memories, young man.”

It was Kurt who spoke next.  “Did you know you never returned it?”

“Never returned it?” said Mr. Croft.  “I never returned it?”

“According to their records, you’ve had it checked out for nineteen years,” said Jack.  “I and my friends figured someone who’d had something checked out for that long had probably lost it.  We’re detectives, so we’d be happy to try to find it for you, if you like.”

“The librarian told us that if we do find it, the fines will be waived,” said Robbie, handing over the statement.  Mr. Croft took the paper and read it over, eyes widening.

“I guess I did forget to return it,” he said.  “It was so long ago, I have no idea where it is now.  You’re welcome to check if you’d like.  I lived here back then, so it may be here somewhere.”

“Thank you,” said Jack.

“No, thank you,” said Mr. Croft.  “If I’d known it was still out, I’d have returned it long ago.  Follow me; I’ll show you where you might look.”

He led the boys out of his greenhouse and through the backdoor.  Taking them to a room at the front of the house, he said, “Most of my bookshelves are in there.  I may have put it there by mistake.

“Now, if it’s not on those bookshelves, it might be upstairs,” he said, leading them to the second floor.  “I have some books in here,” he said, opening the door to a small former bedroom.  “If you don’t find it in these places, let me know, and I’ll tell you where else you might check.”

“Thanks,” said Jack.  “This will give us plenty to start with.”

“Come get me if you need anything,” said Mr. Croft, heading back to the stairs.  “I’ll be in my greenhouse.”

When he had gone outside, Kurt said, “Look at all the books in here.  There are even more downstairs!”

“Well, this gives us a mystery to solve,” pointed out Jack.  “With the three of us looking, it won’t take too long to get through.  Let’s start in this room, since we’re already here.”

They got to work, each scanning the titles on a different bookcase.  There were four bookcases, total.  It didn’t take too long for them to finish with the first three, and they started the fourth.  It was then that Kurt made an important discovery.

“Uh-oh,” he said.  “There’s books behind the first row on this shelf.”

“Really?” said Jack. He pulled some out on the top shelf of this case.  “You’re right,” he said.  “This one’s that way.”

“Does that mean they’re all like that?” asked Robbie.  He pulled some books off a shelf on the bookcase he’d just searched.  “Oh, this one’s that way too.”

Progress slowed down after that.  Not only did the boys have to make sure they checked all the books in the back rows, they had to make sure there weren’t any in between or behind the second row.  They found four that had fallen out of rows, but none were library books.

Finally, they finished the room.  “Not here,” said Jack.  “Maybe we should have started with the downstairs room.  It sounds like that’s the main library in this house.”

Down the stairs they went, until they found the room Mr. Croft had initially showed them.  This room had eight bookshelves, each with two rows.  The bookcases were full, for the most part, and there were even more books that had gotten shoved in between rows, making this room even more difficult to search.  Robbie sneezed frequently as clouds of dust erupted when he pulled out long un-read books.

“Mr. Croft must have been quite a reader before he became a gardener,” Robbie remarked.

“I’ll say,” said Kurt.  “How many bookcases do we have to go?  Six?”

“You’re right,” said Jack, “plus the stacks on those endtables.”

“Those aren’t too big,” said Kurt.  “I’ll check them right now.”  It did not take him long to find out that the book was not on them.

“No wonder Mr. Croft can’t find the book,” said Jack.

The boys kept searching, though, and they finally got through the shelves…with no results other than lot of dust.  They’d made sure to leave the rows looking tidy when they’d finished, at least.

“What do we do now?” asked Robbie.

“Mr. Croft said he’d tell us where else we could look if we couldn’t find it on the shelves,” said Jack.  “Let’s go ask him.”

They went out to the greenhouse and caught Mr. Croft just finishing tending to some unusual variety of flower.  “The book might be in the attic,” said Mr. Croft.  “A lot of stuff I haven’t used for years goes up there.  I’ll show you where it is.”

He led the boys to the upstairs room they had just searched.  Then, he pulled the books off the edge of one of the shelves, about medium-high off the ground, revealing a knob.  Jack had seen it earlier, but he hadn’t touched it, more concerned about the whereabouts of the missing book.  Mr. Croft turned the knob, and the entire bookcase swung open, revealing stairs.

“That’s the attic,” said Mr. Croft.  “It might take you a while to search, because there’s a lot of stuff up there.  If you don’t want to finish today, let me know, and you can come back tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” said Jack.  “We’ll give it a try.”  As Mr. Croft went back outside, Jack started to lead his friends up the stairs.  It took a while because they had to search the stuff piled at the edge of each step.  Jack got a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Croft wasn’t kidding.

He was right.  The attic was covered with piles of what’s best described as stuff.  Old boxes, sheets covering stacks, bunches of odds and ends—it was the classic messy attic, complete with the classic amount of dust.

“This’ll take the classic amount of time to search,” observed Kurt.

“Get to work,” said Jack.  “Maybe we’ll find the book quickly and won’t have to search the whole attic.”

That was too optimistic.  Three hours passed.  The boys had found many things, some interesting, most boring.  There was only one thing they were looking for, though, and it wasn’t turning up.

Robbie opened a box and started pulling out its contents.  “Here’s a book!” he declared.  Then, his face fell.  “Not the right one.”

“At least you found a book,” said Jack.  “I haven’t yet.”

“You’re not looking in the right place,” said Kurt.  “I’ve found five books so far, none of them the right one.  Make that six,” he said.  “This isn’t it e—hey, wait a minute!  I found it!  Come here!”

Robbie dropped the box he had just picked up.  (It made a funny crashing sound as it hit the ground, but I don’t think he noticed.)  Jack straightened up and clambered over the piles of stuff as quickly as he could.  They ran over to where Kurt was and looked.

Kurt was holding a book.  It was not the right one.  But under the one he had just picked up was another book, titled   Gardening under Cover: A Northwest Guide to Solar Greenhouses, Cold Frames, and Cloches.  A peeling library sticker was coming off the side.

“That’s it!” said Jack.  “You want to do the honors, Kurt?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” said Kurt, grabbing the book.  He tugged.  The book shifted but didn’t come off the pile.  He tugged a little more.  Then, he tugged harder.

Suddenly, the book lifted off the pile.  As it did so, it shoved something under a white sheet up with it.  This eventually dropped off and fell back to the ground.  As it did so, the white sheet fell off, revealing a small metal object.  Several wires protruded from it, leading to a digital face with several red numbers on it.  The numbers were swiftly going down.

“What is that?” asked Robbie.  He gasped.  “Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s—” started Kurt.

“—a bomb!” finished Jack.  “And it’s set to go off in fifteen seconds!  Come on; we’ve got to get out of here.”

Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve—

The boys scrambled over the piles of stuff, heedless of any old racks that tipped over or crunches their feet made.

—eleven, ten, nine—

They reached the stairs.  Jack and Kurt charged down, followed by Robbie, who tripped about halfway down and fell the rest of the way.  “I’m fine!” he said, hopping up.  “Come on!”

—eight, seven, six, five—

The boys made it to the second floor staircase and started for the first floor.

—four, three—

“Hurry!” cried Jack.  “Where’s the door?”

“This way,” called Robbie, and they ran towards the back door.

—two, one—

Jack shoved open the door, and the boys jumped from the house.  They hit the ground and rolled until they hit the side of one of the greenhouses.  Bracing themselves, they waited for the explosion.

“Any luck?” came a voice.  Jack looked up.  It was Mr. Croft.

“Mr. Croft!” called Kurt.  “Get down!  There’s a bomb in the attic, and it’s set to go off any minute.”

Mr. Croft looked confused.  “A b—young man, did you just say a bomb?”

“Yes!” said Robbie.  “With flashing red numbers counting down the—”  He stopped, puzzled.  Was Mr. Croft—could he be—yes, he was!  Mr. Croft was laughing.  He started with a little chuckle that soon grew into a full-fledged laugh that had the old gardener down on his knees.  Five seconds elapsed before he could speak again.

“Young—ha, ha—young man,” he spoke between laughs.  “That’s a—that’s a—I got it for my kids, back in the ‘70s.  They used it for pranks all the time.  I didn’t realize it was still—ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“It was a fake bomb?” said Jack.  He looked up at the Croft residence, still perfectly intact.  “Oh, no!”

Oh, yes.  The three friends had made the flight of their lives, for nothing.  The house did not blow up, no fires started, no armies of fire engines came.  Up in the attic, the “bomb” calmly hit 0:00:00, flashed “BOOM” on the screen, then turned off.  Ah, well.  At least Mr. Croft had a funny story for his friends at the Tacoma Garden Club, the next time he saw them.

He would tell it, too!

The Case of the Missing Book (Part 1)

After the unexpected success in the missing cat case, in which Jack, Kurt, and Robbie had gone looking for a cat and found a thief instead, Jack had to admit something he tried not to admit to often.  His sister had had the right idea, for once.  Of course, he only admitted it to himself.

Since the search for Charlie the cat had gone so well, though, Jack decided they might as well look for another pet.  The next target was a brown mutt named—Fido.  (Yes, that sounds cliché, but the name Fido wouldn’t be so common if people didn’t use it, right?)  Fido had been missing for a week, but that didn’t keep Jack, Kurt, and Robbie from going after him.

Unfortunately, it turned out that Fido had suffered an accident on a government road.  He’d gotten run over in Federal Way (government road, Federal Way, get the joke?  Okay, sorry.)  That meant no reward, no happy family, and no safe return.  Jack made sure Emma didn’t find out what had happened.  Meanwhile, he called another meeting of the Detective Club so they could discuss what to do next.

“It’s a shame about the dog,” said Kurt, serious for once.  “I’m glad we didn’t have to see the family’s reaction.”

“Same here,” said Jack, “but it leaves us out of a case.”

“We don’t want to get a reputation for just finding stray animals,” noted Kurt.  “In that sense, it’s just as well we work on something else.”

“But what?” asked Robbie.

Again, no one had a good answer, and the three sleuths thought and thought and thought.  Jack was afraid Emma might barge in with a suggestion, but she and Mrs. Barnes were out running errands, part of the reason the Detective Club was meeting now.  Finally, Kurt said, “Let’s play table hockey while we think about it.”

“Good idea,” said Jack.  He and Kurt lined up at the table and began their game.  Of course, table hockey was only for two people, so Robbie waited to replace whoever lost.  While he was waiting, he wandered around the rec room to pass the time.  When he got to the bookcase, he stopped.

“I’ve got an idea!” he said, all of a sudden.  “Look at this!” he said, holding up a book.

“What’s that?” asked Kurt.

“It’s a book I checked out from the library a couple days ago,” said Jack, “though I don’t see why Robbie’s so interested in it.”

“I’m not interested in this book—”

“Then why did you hold it up and tell us to look over?” Kurt asked.

“Have you ever had an overdue book before?” asked Robbie.

“Of course I have!” said Kurt.  “You have too, I’m sure.  I still don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“What I’m getting at,” said Robbie, “is why don’t we try to find the longest overdue book in the Tacoma library system?”

Jack and Kurt saw what he was getting at.  “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” said Jack.

“You’re right,” said Kurt.  “I wonder how long it’s been out.”

“The library’s probably far too busy to look for it themselves, so we can do them a favor,” said Robbie.

“Why not?” said Jack.  “Let’s walk over and ask.”

Jack meant it when he said walk over.  Tacoma’s library had several branches, and one of them was literally three blocks from his house.  There was a lot of traffic, but sidewalks and walk signs made the trip easy, if not quick.  Tacoma’s pedestrian system was better developed than a small town’s would have been.

When they arrived at the library, the three boys immediately got in line at the checkout counter.  The library was busy, so they had to wait for two other people to check out books.  An old man with a cane was just checking out one book, but the mother in front with two children had a whole pile of books and a question about one that was supposed to be checked in.  It felt like ten minutes before she finally picked up her bag of books and headed out.

“Hello,” said Jack, striding up to the counter.  “I was wondering what the longest overdue book in your system is.”

The librarian, a sixty-year old lady with glasses resting a nose that looked like a beak, glared back at the three.  “I’m sorry,” she said, not meaning it, “but we can’t give out that information.”

Seeing it was useless to argue, Jack thanked her politely.  He then led Kurt and Robbie to the reference desk, where they were paired up with a friendlier librarian.

“I’m not sure what our most overdue book is,” said this librarian, a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties with an unusually pale face and a soft voice.  “However, I can find out for you if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

“Thanks; we don’t,” said Jack.

The librarian turned to face the computer.  As she typed and clicked, Kurt mentioned, “We figured whoever had it out had lost it, so we thought we’d try to find it for you all.”

“That’s very nice of you,” said the librarian.  “Let me see, I should have that information coming up—ah, here we are.  Our most overdue book is Gardening under Cover: A Northwest Guide to Solar Greenhouses, Cold Frames, and Cloches.  It’s been checked out for—nineteen years!”

The librarian’s mouth formed a surprised circle as she said, “That’s fifteen years longer than I’ve been working here.”

“Nineteen years!” said Jack.  “I wonder if whoever checked it out even still owns it.”

“Let me see,” said the librarian.  “It was checked out by a Mr. Douglas Croft.  I’ll write down his address for you.  Now, he hasn’t checked anything out for a while, so I don’t know if he still lives there or not.”

“We can check,” said Kurt.

“That would be so kind of you guys,” said the librarian.  “We have three other copies of the book, but Mr. Croft’s is the only one that’s available for checkout.  If you can find it, tell him that we’ll waive the fine.  In fact,” here the librarian pulled out a piece of paper, “I should give you a signed statement that we’ll do that.”

“Alright,” said Jack.

“Could you tell us how much the fine was supposed to be?” asked Robbie.

“I can,” said the librarian.  “I think you should show Mr. Croft this, because the total amount comes to $1,772.25.”

Kurt whistled.  “For one book!  He should have picked it up at the bookstore.”

“Thanks!” said Jack.  “We’ll head right over.”

“You’re welcome,” said the librarian.  “Be sure to tell me how you make out!”

So far, things were going smoothly, but none of the boys could have predicted what lay ahead.

[To be continued]

The Case of the Missing Cat

The Detective Club had now been established.  It consisted of Jack Barnes, Kurt Morris, and Robbie Ransom.  One source claimed it also consisted of Emma Barnes, Jack’s little sister, but that was in dispute.  Anyway, the first three had definitely been sworn in, and they were all ready to solve a mystery.

There was just one problem.

“What mystery should we work on first?” asked Kurt.  “Do either of you have any?”

“No, I don’t,” said Jack.  “Robbie?”  Robbie shook his head.

“Well, don’t worry about it too much right now,” said Jack.  “Our club just got founded, after all.  Let’s go home and look for one to solve, and I’m sure by tomorrow, we’ll find one.  We’ll all meet back here at three and discuss what we found out.”

Kurt and Robbie thought this was a good idea, and with that, they left.  Jack would’ve left too, only Kurt and Robbie had been visiting his house, so there was no point in his—you get the idea.

Three o’clock the next day should have provided plenty of time to find a mystery, but—well, let the meeting speak for itself.

“I found nothing,” said Kurt.  “I casually asked my parents if they knew of any for us to solve—without letting on that we formed this club—and they casually informed me that they had none.  I checked the news this morning, but the police had already caught the suspects in all the crimes they mentioned.”

“Is this a secret club?” asked Robbie.

“No,” said Jack, “although let’s not tell too many people about it.  Once we solve some mysteries, word should get around.  We’ll let our work speak for itself.  Robbie, did you come up with any?”

Robbie shook his head.  “What about you, Jack?”

“None,” said Jack.  “You’d think the hard part about being a detective would be solving a mystery, not finding one to solve.”

“There’s probably someone right in town who’s good at finding mysteries and not good at solving them,” pointed out Robbie.

“You’re right,” said Jack.  “I guess we’ll have to keep looking.  Sooner or later, something’s bound to turn up.”

“Why don’t you work on this?” came a voice.  Jack, Kurt, and Robbie didn’t even need to turn to see who it was, but they did, anyway.  It was Emma, and she was holding a poster.

LOST CAT spelled out large letters on the top.  A picture underneath showed a white cat with a black head and four black socks on its feet.  (That is, the hair on said cat’s feet was black, making it look like that cat had socks on, even though it didn’t).  A description of the cat followed, informing the reader that it loved catnip.  The cat’s name was Charlie.  The address of the owner, Wilma Hodges, ended the flyer.

“Emma, this is a detective club,” said Jack.  “We’re here to solve serious mysteries, not look for people’s lost pets.  I’m sorry, but that’s not the type of case we’re looking for.”

“Wait a minute, Jack,” said Robbie.  “Do we have any mystery to work on right now?  Maybe this only concerns a missing cat, but it’s better than working on nothing.”

“But it’s just a missing cat!” protested Jack.  “The poor animal probably wandered off and got lost.  What kind of a mystery is that?”  He looked to Kurt for help.

None came.  “It might be worth our while,” said Kurt.  “Keep in mind, Jack, we’re just starting out.  One day, this cat.  Tomorrow, the most wanted criminal in Washington!”

“This is crazy,” said Jack, but he saw the wisdom in what Kurt and Robbie had to say.  “Alright, we’ll do it.  Where’s that poster?”

“What poster?” Emma asked, pretending she had no idea.

“That poster.  The one you’re hiding behind your back.”

“Oh, this one!” said Emma.  “Do you want to buy it?  It’s only five dollars!”

Jack most certainly did not want to buy it, and let’s just say he got it for free.  Ahem.  The address wasn’t that far away, so off the boys headed, ready for action.

Wilma Hodges lived in a one-story white house, well-maintained though it was not that new.  There was nothing that spectacular about the structure.  It was in a rather cozy neighborhood; there was a large backyard with a couple trees growing in it.

“There’s a lot of trees in this neighborhood,” pointed out Kurt.  “The cat’s probably stuck in one of them.”

“Funny,” said Jack.  “Mrs. Hodges forgot to put where the cat was last seen.”

“She must not have seen it in a while,” said Robbie.

“Maybe not,” said Jack.  To his chagrin, he noticed a rip at the top of the poster stretching down to a small hole.  Emma had ripped it from somewhere it had been nailed.  “That Emma!” he thought.

There was no time to worry about Emma now, though.  Jack strode to the front door and rang the doorbell.

Mrs. Hodges answered rather quickly.  She was a little tall and thin, with graying hair.  Jack would have guessed she was in her mid-fifties.  She did not appear too happy to see company at her door.

“Yes?  What do you want?” she said.

“Are you Mrs. Hodges?” Jack asked, just to confirm.

“MISS Hodges!” corrected the lady.

“Right.  Sorry.  Um, Miss Hodges, I believe you lost a cat.”

“Yes; have you found it?”

“No, but—”

“Then what are you doing bothering me for?” barked Miss Hodges.

“We’re trying to find your cat,” said Jack, “and we have some questions for you.  Where did you last see it?”

“Have you seen one of my posters?” asked Miss Hodges.

“Yes, that’s how we knew about it,” said Jack.

“Then you know everything you need to know.  Good day!” said Mrs. Hodges, shutting the door.

Jack glanced at his friends.  “She wasn’t very friendly.”

“No, but she was helpful,” said Kurt.  “Now we know why the cat ran away.”

“Kurt, we’re right outside her door!  Shhhh!”

“What do we do now?” asked Robbie.

Jack glanced around.  “Let’s go next door and see if Miss Hodges’s neighbor is any chattier.  If whoever lives there is observant, they might know the cat’s habits.”

Miss Hodges’s neighbor, a Mrs. Roush, did prove more talkative—and very observant.  She told her guests that Miss Hodges had moved to the neighborhood three years ago, that she was unfriendly with everyone in the neighborhood, that she was always having guests, that she went out at odd hours, that her cat had probably been spooked by some of the guests, that she never tended her garden, that she’d let the backyard shed just collapse, that her green car was an eyesore, etc. etc.

“Thank you for your information,” Jack snuck in, when Mrs. Roush paused to catch her breath.  “Do you know anything about her cat’s habits, where it went, etc.?”

“I know more than that,” smiled Mrs. Roush.  “I’m sure I know where he is.  One of Miss Hodges’s guests dropped off some large crates in the backyard four days ago.  It rained three days ago, so they moved them into her basement.  My guess is the cat crawled into one of those crates and got stuck.  Though I’m surprised that lady even cares about that cat.  She’s always leaving it outside to wander around, and…”

It was another twenty minutes before Jack, Kurt, and Robbie were able to break away; yet they felt their interview had been productive.  “If that cat is in one of those boxes,” said Robbie, as they walked away from the door, “this case is going to be easy.”

“Wouldn’t she have heard it by now?” said Jack.

“Not if she doesn’t spend much time in the basement,” said Kurt.  “I say that’s worth checking out.”

“There’s one problem,” said Robbie.  “Where are the boxes?”

“Let me check,” said Kurt.  Before Jack and Robbie could stop him, he’d darted to the side of Miss Hodges’s house.  He ducked, peeked through one of the narrow windows into the basement, and waved his friends over.

“They’re still here,” he said.

“Too bad,” said Jack.  “Now, there’s no way to check if the cat’s there or not.”

“What are you talking about?” said Kurt.

“I don’t think Miss Hodges will let us in her basement.”

“We don’t need her to,” said Kurt.  “Look at this window!”  The window was composed of a wooden frame which divided two panes of glass.  The wood was painted white, though it was chipped.  However, the frame was coming off the side of the house, and the window was leaning open.

Before Jack and Robbie could stop him, Kurt had jerked the window open and jumped through.

“Kurt!” hissed Jack.  “Come back!”

“Don’t worry,” said Kurt.  “If I find Miss Hodges’s cat, she won’t mind.”

“I wonder,” thought Jack.  “Kurt,” he voiced aloud, “it’s bad enough we’re in her yard.  Now, you’re in her house without permission.  If she finds you—”

“I think I can get this crate lid off.”

“Kurt, get out of there right now before—”

“This hammer will do the trick.”

“Kurt—”

Pop! Kurt pried the lid off with the rear end of the hammer.  The large lid slid to the floor, revealing no cat, but ten boxes.  Ten boxes each containing a brand new—

Kurt whistled.  “Look at all these HDTVs!”

Robbie gazed in awe at the box’s contents.  “That’s about a fourth of a store’s inventory,” he declared.

“There’s four boxes here,” said Kurt.  “I wonder if they all contain that.”

“I don’t know,” said Jack, “but there’s no cat on there, so you had better put that lid back on before—”

“Don’t worry; don’t worry; I’ve got it,” said Kurt.  “I’m not going to leave a mess while I’m solving this case.  I’ll just—oh, hello!”

Jack gulped.  That “Oh, hello,” had not been directed at him or Robbie.  That left just one possibility.  And it wasn’t Emma.

“What are you doing in my basement?” Jack and Robbie heard Miss Hodges bark.

“I’m sorry, Miss Hodges,” said Kurt.  “I was just looking for your cat.”

“A likely story!” yelled Miss Hodges.  “You found out about the TVs.”

“Miss Hodges, if you’ll put away that gun [gun?!], I can explain—”

This did not sound good.  Jack yanked Robbie away from the window.  “Robbie, we’ve got to do something!”

“—or going through my stuff!” said Miss Hodges.  “I knew you weren’t really interested in the cat when you walked up to the door.  You were after—”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.  Miss Hodges paused midsentence and glanced over at the staircase.  Kurt saw his chance and took it!  Placing one foot on the box, he jumped straight at Miss Hodges!

Miss Hodges turned back, and a look of surprise crossed her face, but she did not get a shot off before Kurt hit her with a flying tackle.  There was no ensuing fight.

“Oh, my arm, my arm, my arm!” wailed Miss Hodges.  “You’ve broken my arm!”

Kurt thought about asking Mrs. Hodges why she was still moving it if it was broken, but he refrained.  Instead, he kicked the gun away.

Jack peeked through the window.  “Kurt, what did you do that for?” he said.  “I was going to distract her with this garden hose!”

“You were?” said Kurt.  “Oh.  Well, it makes me look braver that you didn’t, doesn’t it?”  He laughed.  In spite of the situation, Jack laughed too.

Miss Hodges’s conduct with the gun was too unusual for the boys not to call the police, and they found out, to their shock, that they had found the receiving point for a large robbery from a local electronics store that had baffled the police the last several days.  “Whoever took these left us very little to go on,” explained Officer LeGrange.  “We’ve been hoping for a break like this.”

Not only did the police arrest Miss Hodges, but they caught the other members of the gang that evening when they returned to move the TVs.  Jack and his friends were warmly thanked by the police, as well as the manager of the store, who promised to give them one free TV.

“One!” said Kurt.  “How are we going to split one TV?”

Jack and Robbie didn’t have much trouble answering that question.  “You tackled Miss Hodges,” said Jack.  “You should keep it.”

“Only you’ll have to let us come over a lot to watch it,” ordered Robbie.

“It’s a deal,” laughed Kurt.

One final note: Charlie the cat was found the next day wandering around the parking lot at a small shopping center several blocks away.  He was not returned to Miss Hodges, as the jail did not permit pets.  Instead, he was sent to a local animal shelter, where he is currently waiting for a new home.  The animal shelter workers say he is quite happy.

The Detective Club

  It was Jack’s idea. Why not? It promised to be quite interesting. Every town, no matter where you go in the United States, has mysteries, right? Sure! They’re everywhere! So why not try to solve some of them?

Of course, Jack didn’t come up with the idea overnight. The beginnings of it came one day when he was hanging out with his friends, Kurt and Robbie.  Those weren’t his only friends, of course; just his best. They were at Jack’s house playing table tennis in the basement. The problem with this was that there were three players, and table tennis was traditionally a two-person sport. What was to be done?

“I can take you both on,” boasted Kurt. Twelve (like Kurt and Robbie), he had a muscular frame and a somewhat squarish face. His hair was always in a buzzcut, though not the extreme kind that makes people appear bald. Confident and daring, Kurt never shied away from a challenge (not to say he was always up to them, just that he never shied away).

“Oh, really?” said Jack, skeptically. Jack tended to be more thoughtful, though he was just as confident when the challenge wasn’t over-the-top. He was quite thin, with black hair, green eyes, and a face that often bore what looked like a little smirk. It wasn’t due to any ill qualities of Jack; everyone who knew him said he was a good kid, respectful, never—well, almost never—in trouble.

“You want me to prove it?” said Kurt, picking up a paddle.  “If I remember correctly, there’s an extra one on the bookshelf for you, Robbie.”

“If you want this,” said Robbie, picking up the paddle. Robbie was the most unique-looking member of the group when it came to features.  He was the shortest, but he was also thin as a wire. Glasses with large round frames made him look like a computer geek.  In reality, Robbie knew almost nothing about computers, outside of how to turn them on and surf the Internet and stuff.  He was more at home playing table tennis, particularly when he was teaming up against one player.

Kurt picked up a red ball, lazily tossed it in the air, and thwacked it over in Jack’s direction. Ironically, Jack missed it, as did Robbie. Jack served the next one, and the ball went back and forth for a good two minutes before Robbie sent a well-timed shot past Kurt. After that, the game went more predictably, with Kurt getting destroyed. When he’d missed ten times, Jack and Robbie convinced him to declare them winners.

“Agreed,” said Kurt, who knew when he was licked. “Why don’t you play each other? I’ll watch and take over for whoever loses.”

“You got it,” said Robbie.  “That sound good with you, Jack?”

“It does,” said Jack, who took his paddle and faced off against Robbie. Jack was very good at multitasking, and when he was up 2—0, he said, “You know what?”

“What?” said Kurt.  “Is it important?”

“It might be,” said Jack. “I heard on the news today that crime is up for the last month.”

“So what?” said Kurt. “We live in a big city. There’s always crimes going on in Tacoma.”

“So why don’t we try to do something about it.”

“What do you have in mind?” Robbie asked, as he missed a ball. He bent down to pick it up (the nice thing about being short was that he didn’t have as far to go), then served it back to Jack.

“Wouldn’t it be fun,” suggested Jack, “to start a detective club?”

“A detective club?” said Kurt.  “You’re joking.”

“I’m serious, Kurt,” Jack said, hitting the ball past Robbie. “We could help out the city and have fun at the same time. Of course, you might not be up to the challenge.”

“Who, me? I’m always up to challenges.”

“We know that, Kurt,” said Robbie.

“Well, what about you, Robbie? What do you think of Jack’s idea? We all know you’re not always up to challenges.”

Robbie, for a change, knocked the ball past Jack. “No, but I’m up to this one. How much trouble could we get into?”

“It’s settled; we’ll do it,” said Jack. “We’ll start the Detective Club, consisting of us three as members.”

“Now if it’s a club,” said Kurt, “you’ve got to have positions. There’s got to be a president, a vice-president, and a treasurer.”

“It was Jack’s idea; why don’t we make him the president?” said Robbie.

“If you want,” said Jack, “though I don’t intend to boss you guys around. Our mission will be to get mysteries solved and make Tacoma a safer place.”

“Not bad,” said Robbie. “We should swear to it or something, right?”

Jack knocked the ball past Robbie and put down his paddle. “Right,” he said. “Gather around this ping-pong table, and we’ll swear ourselves in.”

Kurt joined the other two at their table.

“Hold on a second,” said Jack. “We need something to swear on.” He went to the bookshelf and grabbed a Bible off it. Returning, he placed the Bible on the table, put his left hand on it, and raised his right hand.

“I, Jack Barnes, do solemnly swear to protect and uphold the laws of the United States of America as part of the Detective Club,” he said. “There how’s that?”

“Good!” said Kurt. He walked to where Jack was and assumed the same position. “I, Kurt Morris, do solemnly swear to protect and uphold the laws of America as part of the Detective Club.” He picked up the Bible and handed it over to Robbie.

“I, Robbie Ransom, do solemnly swear to protect and uphold the laws of the United States of America as part of the Detective Club.”

“I, Emma Barnes, solemnly swear to whatever you all just said.”

Jack glanced down the room, then groaned. There was Emma, his younger sister by five years, at a table with her right hand raised and her left on top of her little pink New Testament. Somehow she’d slipped into the rec room while the rest of them hadn’t been paying attention.

“Emma, this is our club, not yours,” said Jack. “I’m sorry, but Kurt and Robbie are the only ones besides myself who belong to it.”

“And me!” said Emma, picking up her New Testament and darting back to the staircase. She charged up the stairs, ran to her room, and picked up her diary. “Dear Diary: Today I joined the…”

Meanwhile, Jack glanced around. He nodded at his friends. “It’s just us three, right?”

“Right!” agreed Kurt.

“Right!” seconded Robbie, “but try telling Emma that.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jack. “She’ll forget this by tomorrow.”