“Catch them!” ordered Rora, but the monkeys were too fast. They jumped all over the place. They climbed the rafters, passing the statue back and forth, until they reached the catwalk. Then they took a bow, and the crowd applauded. The audience thought this was all part of the final act.
“We have fans!” Ziggy waved.
“But this show is just getting started!” Rider shouted.
MONKEY BUSINESS
The monkeys rode down on the large red curtain and surrounded Rider and the P.I. Pack. The golden statue with gems for eyes flew through the air again and again as the furry crooks continued to toss it back and forth. Suddenly, the rottweiler swung in on a rope and tried to grab the Tiger’s Eye, but the Banana Splits knocked him aside and ran away.
“Let’s split up!” roared Rora. “Rider, take care of the rottweiler! We’ll get that statue.”
Rider chased the rottweiler. “Sit, boy! Sit!” he commanded.
The rottweiler growled. “The name’s Rotten Ruffhouse, Detective. And I don’t do tricks!”
“You’re a bad dog,” Rider said as he leaped onto the mysterious mutt’s back. But Rotten shook him off and disappeared into another doorway with Rider right behind him.
Meanwhile, the rest of the P.I. Pack chased the monkeys into a dressing room. But as soon as the Pack entered, there was no sign of the Banana Splits. “Be careful, boys,” Rora said. “They’ve got to be in here somewhere.”
Rora saw a monkey tail peeking out from under a large wig. She grabbed it, and a monkey jumped into the air with a screech. Then five other monkeys popped out from behind more props, holding rainbow wigs. They heaved wig after wig on top of Rora until she was buried under a hairy pile. “Help! I’m wigging out!” she cried.
Across the room, Westie was searching through a rack of clothes when two monkeys surprised him in a tangle of costumes. Before Westie could react, the monkeys had him all tied up and dangled him all the way down to the parking lot.
Ziggy had found the kitchen next door. Of course getting the statue back was important, but his stomach was growling. “There has to be food in here,” he said. He peered inside a cabinet and four more monkeys were hiding there! They hollered and pushed Ziggy out of the way. One of them had the Tiger’s Eye.
“Hey, you funky monkeys, give me that!” Ziggy said. But as he fumbled forward, a monkey tripped him, and he fell headfirst into a gigantic cream pie.
“That was a waste of a perfectly good pie!” Ziggy shouted angrily.
Then all twelve monkeys began leaping onto one another’s backs until they formed the shadow giant. “Uh-oh,” Ziggy squeaked. Next they formed a large fist and were about to crush Ziggy when Westie zoomed in with his jetpack and picked up his friend.
“I thought I was a goner!” Ziggy cried.
“You still might be!” Westie shouted as he lost control of the jetpack. The pair turned midair and crashed into the shadow giant. Westie, Ziggy, and the monkeys went flying in all directions. Then the statue fell to the ground in the middle of the room. Everyone looked at the Tiger’s Eye.
But before anyone could move to get it, Rotten ran through the room, scooped up the treasure, and ran out the exit. Rider was just a few feet behind the thief. “Anyone want to help me put this crook in a kennel?” he shouted at the P.I. Pack. The monkeys and dogs all ran out the exit, everyone chasing the statue.
WHO’S CHASING WHOM?!
Rotten hopped onto his motorcycle and roared down the street.
“After him!” Rider shouted to his P.I. Pack as they all jumped into their van. Rider hit the gas, and the van sped off after the thief and the Tiger’s Eye.
“What about those monkeys? Shouldn’t we be after them?” Westie asked from the backseat.
“Right now, we need to get that priceless statue back,” Rider said, turning the steering wheel. “Those monkeys have probably split.”
“Wrong, Rider.” Ziggy gulped. “The Banana Splits are hot on our tails.” Coming up behind the P.I. Pack van was a tiny car filled with the monkey troupe. One of the monkeys took a single banana peel and hurled it at the van.
Then an explosion of peels flew toward their van!
“Watch out!” Rora shouted, but it was too late. The van slid on the banana peels and started spinning. Then the monkeys hurled a banana cream pie that hit the van’s windshield with a messy smack.
“I can’t see a thing!” Rider shouted as he tried to drive the van. The monkeys zoomed by, gaining on Rotten Ruffhouse and the Tiger’s Eye.
“I can help with that!” Ziggy cheered. Faster than a cheetah, he leaped out of the car and licked the van’s windshield clean. “Bow-wowza! I love banana cream pie!”
“Back inside, Ziggy,” Rider said as he punched the gas.
“Good job, kid. Guess we owe your stomach a thanks.” Rora smiled.
“Or a treat!” Ziggy said.
“You cannot still be hungry, can you?” asked Rora.
“Always!” Ziggy said, licking his paws clean.
The P.I. Pack was back on the road and quickly catching up to the others. The monkeys fired banana blasts at Rotten, but he dodged them with ease.
Then the side window opened on the monkey car. One by one, the monkeys hopped on one another’s shoulders until they formed a giant arm. The tiny car sped next to the motorcycle as the arm arched over. It grabbed the Tiger’s Eye!
Rotten held on to the statue, but he took his eyes off the road. His motorcycle flew up a ramp and into the air, landing with a big splash in the City Kitty River.
“Holy guacamole!” Ziggy said. “Those monkeys have stolen the statue again!”
“Enough of this monkey business,” Rider growled.
The Banana Splits’ car took a fast left turn and parked in front of Central Bark Park. Rider made the turn too, zooming after them.
“Uh-oh,” Westie said. “What are they doing now?”
The Banana Splits grabbed a tree branch in the park. All twelve monkeys and the Tiger’s Eye went swinging into the leaves.
“They are monkeying around in the trees!” Ziggy moaned. “We’ll never find them in this giant park now!”
“Sure, we will,” said Rider as he pulled the van over. “We’ve got them right where we want them.”
A BARREL FULL OF BAD GUYS
“How are we going to get those monkeys before they sell the Tiger’s Eye at the underground flea market?” Ziggy whined.
“With our team genius,” Rider said, looking at Westie. “Your jetpack is made from a vacuum cleaner, right?”
“It sure is!” Westie smiled and his ears perked up. “You think I’m a genius?”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Rider said with a smirk. “Can I borrow your jetpack?”
“You sure can, Boss!” Westie said proudly as he helped Rider put it on.
“Rora and Westie, head back to the river and see if you can find that rottweiler,” said Rider. “Ziggy and I are going to get those monkeys and the Tiger’s Eye.”
“Me?” Ziggy gulped. “Uh-uh, no way, José. Vacuum cleaners and I do not get along!”
“Time to face your fears, kid,” Rider said, grabbing Ziggy and blasting into the air high above the trees.
“Can’t I do that on the ground where it’s safe?” Ziggy whined.
“This is pretty fun, huh?” Rider shouted over the wind.
“No, no, and no!” Ziggy cried, his paws over his eyes.
“Ziggy,” said Rider, “you’re the only one who can tell me where those banana trees are . . . like that banana we found at the crime scene. It’s up to you to solve this whole case.”
“It is?” Ziggy said, his ears perking up and his tail starting to wag.
“It is,” Rider said. “Now let’s go bananas!”
“Bow-wowza, this isn’t so bad!” Ziggy slowly opened his eyes. “There are the banana trees!”
Underneath the flying dogs, there were trees filled with yellow bananas, bustling with hidden monkeys.
Rider broke off one of the jetpack’s rockets and flipped the switch from mega-blast to mega-suction mode. The giant vacuum came to life and began sucking at the trees. At first, only bananas and leaves filled up the clear tank, but then, one by one, the monkeys were sucked in too! The final monkey flew through the air holding the Tiger’s Eye, but Rider snatched it away safely.
“We got ’em all!” Ziggy shouted. “Dog-gone it, that was fun!”
Rider and Ziggy flew out of the park and toward the river. They landed beside the P.I. Pack van, where Rora and Westie were waiting.
“The rottweiler got away,” Rora said. “His wet paw prints lead up to the road, and then they end. Someone must have picked him up. That means he wasn’t working alone.”
“Sounds like a mystery for another day, Rora,” Rider said. All the monkeys were pressed against the glass. “Today, we saved the Tiger’s Eye—and nabbed a barrel full of bad guys.”
THE LAST LAUGH
“Mr. Meow, I believe this belongs to you,” Rider said, handing the store owner the Tiger’s Eye statue in time for the opening.
“Thissss h-issss outrageous—” Mr. Meow started to hiss, before calming down and finishing, “—ly wonderful. How did you find my, er, I mean, the tour’s treasure?”
“A simple crime, really,” Rider began. “After their show ended at ten o’clock, the Banana Splits crossed the street, climbed in through the skylight of the Cat’s Meow Jewelry Store, and formed a giant shadow to scare the guard dog away. But one of the monkeys took a snack break. He left a clue behind—a banana peel. After that, it was just simple detective work. Just a typical dog day afternoon,” Rider said. “With some extra help from my friends,” he added, nodding to his teammates.
Rider pointed to the barrel full of monkeys on top of the van. “I believe your police force can take these monkeys off our back, Mr. Mayor?”
“They most certainly can, Rider Woofson.” The mayor smiled and shook the detective’s paw. “Once again, Pawston is in your debt.”
“Not at all, Mr. Mayor. I’m just glad the P.I. Pack was here to help.”
A crowd had appeared and started to cheer. The Tiger’s Eye exhibit could start on time, and the whole town was ready to line up to see the amazing treasure. Mr. Meow handed the statue to Frenchie the guard dog and disappeared into his back office.
“I ssssmell a wet dog. Come here, Rotten Ruffhouse, and explain yoursssself,” Mr. Meow hissed.
The soaked rottweiler stepped out of the shadows. “It wasn’t my fault, Boss,” he said. “Those monkeys double-crossed us. They wanted to keep the Tiger’s Eye for themselves. I was about to take it when that dog-gone P.I. Pack got involved.”
“It looks like my purrr-fect plan wasn’t so purrr-fect after all,” Mr. Meow said, digging his claws into a golden scratching post.
“Sorry, Boss,” Rotten whined.
“Evil help is sssso hard to find these dayssss,” Mr. Meow hissed. “Never send a dog to do a cat’s job.”
Mr. Meow climbed to the top of the scratching post and stared out the window over the city of Pawston. “Such a big city, and so much crime to be had. I’ll have to keep an eye on this P.I. Pack. They could sssspell trouble for my evil plans.”
Then Mr. Meow began to laugh a scary, mean laugh. His laughter grew louder, and louder, and louder, and floated out through the window, echoing through Pawston.
The city streets weren’t quiet anymore.
Check out Rider Woofson’s next case!
“What in Pawston is going on?” Rider Woofson barked. The dog detective was driving his P.I. Pack to their favorite diner to celebrate solving their latest case. But cars were bumper to bumper, and the traffic wasn’t moving. Rider didn’t like sitting still, not when he could be solving a crime.
“Maybe I can see what’s happening with my new Seeing Eye Dog Glasses,” Westie Barker said, wagging his tail excitedly. Westie adjusted his homemade periscope that was raised over the traffic. “It’s a real zoo at the Pawston Marina. Half the city must be there . . . and everyone has cameras. Wonder what all the hubbub is about.”
“The marina?” Rora Gooddog looked up from her book. “Is it Tuesday already? I almost forgot about Prince Bubbles.”
“Who’s Prince Bubbles?” Westie asked.
“If he’s not a super sub sandwich with mayo and extra marshmallows, who cares? I’m hungry!” Ziggy whined.
“Prince Bubbles is fish royalty,” Rora answered, “from the underwater country of New Sealand.”
“Hey, isn’t that the prince who hardly ever leaves the water? I wonder what brings him to dry land,” Rider said, parking the P.I. van. “I’d like to go investigate. You’ve caught my curiosity.”
WALKER STYLES grew up reading kids’ books, so it makes sense that he’s writing them now. And when he isn’t writing books, he’s out solving mysteries around the city of Manhattan, where he lives. Just the other day, he lost the book he was reading. Following all the clues, Walker deduced the couch ate it! (Well, the book was under the couch cushions. Still, mystery solved!)
BEN WHITEHOUSE is an illustrator based in Birmingham, UK. He has previously worked in the animation industry as a character designer, animator, and stop-motion puppet maker before finding his feet within the world of illustration. You can visit him at stopmotionben.com.
Little Simon
Simon & Schuster
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LITTLE SIMON
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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First Little Simon hardcover edition January 2016
Copyright © 2016 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Also available in a Little Simon paperback edition.
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LITTLE SIMON is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and associated colophon is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected]. The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. Designed by Laura Roode.
The text of this book was set in ITC Courier Std.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Styles, Walker.
The case of the missing Tiger’s Eye / by Walker Styles ; illustrated by Ben Whitehouse. — First Little Simon paperback edition.
pages cm — (Rider Woofson ; 1)
ISBN 978-1-4814-5738-5 (hc) — ISBN 978-1-4814-5739-2 (pbk) — ISBN 978-1-4814-5740-8 (eBook) [1. Mystery and detective stories. 2. Detectives—Fiction. 3. Dogs—Fiction. 4. Animals—Fiction. 5. Sculpture—Fiction.] I. Whitehouse, Ben, illustrator. II. Title.
PZ7.1.S82Cas 2016
[Fic]—dc23
2015009103
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