Drake broke the lead in his pencil.
Nell hit the wrong calculator button.
“It’s Baloney!” they all cried. “He won!”
(Now, in case you didn’t know, Baloney’s real name was Bubba Mahoney, but when he was a toddler he ate seven and a half packages of baloney in one sitting, and so then everyone called him Baloney. It made sense.) Baloney was the biggest kid in the fifth grade, good for stomping aluminum pop cans, driving in nails with his fists, and sitting on things if he felt they needed squishing.
Baloney danced about. “I won! I won!”
Shady Jim grinned. “See, kids? If Baloney can win, anyone can win!”
“Egads!” gasped Drake. “If Baloney’s here—”
“—that means Frisco can’t be far!” cried Nell.
You see, Baloney and James Frisco, the bad mad scientist, were partners. If Frisco needed anything squished, Baloney was his man. If Baloney needed anything blown up, Frisco was his man.
“Do you suppose Frisco, Baloney, and Shady Jim are all in it together?” asked Drake.
June gasped. “But that would be cheating!”
“Cheating indeed, Ms. Jewell,” agreed Nell. “But it’s all we’ve got to go on right now.”
“Great Scott!” cried Drake, ducking behind June. “Don’t look now. To your left. By the corn dogs. Under the tree. James Frisco! The very man!”
Sure enough, there was James Frisco, the bad mad scientist. He gazed at the sky, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Do you think he’s seen us?” asked Nell while, fast as a proton, she ducked behind June as well.
“Negative,” replied Drake. “His powers of observation are quite terrible, as you know.”
“This could be our big break,” said Nell.
“We must spring into action,” said Drake.
They opened their detective kits. They whipped out their magnifying glasses. They whipped out their periscopes. Their binoculars. Their insect repellent (it was a rather buggy day). And with June as their cover, they began to do surveillance (to stake out, observe, shadow), determined to expose Frisco, the bad mad scientist, at his game.
“Subject is eyeing the corn dogs,” observed Drake.
“Subject is—eeww—picking his nose,” observed Nell.
“Subject appears quite overheated,” observed Drake.
“A warm day to be dressed in an overcoat,” added Nell.
“Subject is whistling out of tune,” said Drake.
“Subject also putting his hand in his pocket frequently,” said Nell.
“Hmm … let me adjust my binoculars … Great Scott!” cried Drake. “You’re right, Scientist Nell. And—Great Scott times two!—there are wires coming out of his pocket!”
“Good eye, Detective Doyle. Now just where do you suppose those wires lead?”
Peering through their binoculars, they saw that the wires trailed across the ground, disappearing beneath …
Both Drake and Nell gasped and said, “Beneath Shady Jim’s booth!”
Drake, Nell, and June darted behind the back of the booth where the wires disappeared.
“Quick, Scientist Nell, my periscope!”
“Check!”
Drake slipped the periscope under the booth and peered into the scope. (In actual fact, Drake first removed a pebble that was stuck in his knee, bumped his nose against the wall of the booth—“Ow!”—and then slipped the periscope under the booth for a quick peek around.)
“Report?” asked Nell.
“There are many hairy legs crawling around, it’s just horrible … oh, oh, wait a minute. Bug on my periscope. Off you go … Ah, yes. That’s better. Fascinating. Quite fascinating.”
“Report?”
“One of the wires is hooked to the positive terminal of a large battery. The other wire is coiled around what looks to be an enormous nail, before being hooked to the negative terminal. Quick, Scientist Nell, hand me a paper clip.”
“Check.”
And, being the best partner a scientist could have, Nell whipped out a paper clip. (Where did she get it, you wonder? Wonder no longer, for both Drake and Nell’s detective kits were chock full of handy gadgets. You see, science detectives must be prepared for every possibility—such as desperate customers, suspicious characters, even the occasional earthquake.) But before Nell could hand the paper clip to Drake, something extraordinary happened.
Just as Shady Jim began once again to demonstrate his easy-as-pie game, the paper clip flew out of Nell’s hand as if by magic, and disappeared quick as a quark beneath the booth.
“Well,” whispered Drake, rather stunned. “I think that answers that.”
“Indeed,” replied Nell. She cocked her eyebrow, which always meant she was quite serious. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Indeed I am, Scientist Nell.”
“You’ll need wire cutters, I presume?” Nell was already rummaging through her detective kit.
“Check.”
She handed the wire cutters to Drake, who disappeared under the booth.
“Wait for my signal, Detective Doyle.” Without wasting a second, Nell turned to June. “Ms. Jewell? I believe it is time for you to win that trip to Magic Valley’s Fabulous Fun-O-Rama.”
“Lookee here!” hollered Shady Jim as he snatched June’s last two crumpled dollars. “The little lady wants to try her luck once again. Millionth time’s a charm, I always say.”
Joe, Jay, Joy, Joan, John, Jean, Jane, Jenn, Jeb, Jed, and little Judd Junior crowded around June.
“C’mon, Sis, you can do it, we know you can.”
“Win for the family.”
June placed her hands on the puck, took a deep breath, and looked at Nell.
Nell nodded, then yelled, “THREE, TWO, ONE … GO!”
June pushed the puck.
The crowd leaned forward, watching, as the puck sailed across the surface. Four feet … eight feet … twelve feet … and then … BULL’S-EYE!
There was some polite cheering. June’s brothers and sisters looked just a tad less heartsick.
Shady Jim laughed. “Har! Har! Well, kiddos, hitting the bull’s-eye once is a breeze, but can she do it twice in a row? Go ahead, little lady.”
Again June pushed the puck. And again June made a bull’s-eye. Now Shady Jim looked a little nervous. The crowd cheered again. In the distance, Nell saw Frisco frowning, his hand jammed in his pocket, looking like a bad mad scientist whose experiment had gone suddenly, horribly wrong.
For indeed … it had.
June hit the bull’s-eye not only twice, but three times, four times, and five. By the time she hit the fifth bull’s-eye, the crowd was going wild. Joe, Jay, Joy, Joan, John, Jean, Jane, Jenn, Jeb, Jed, and little Judd Junior were leaping with glee and doing cartwheels. “Fun-O-Rama, here we come!”
Drake joined Nell, and shook her hand. “Bravo as usual, Scientist Nell.”
“Ditto, Detective Doyle.”
And while more and more children gave Shady Jim their two dollars, each winning a trip to Magic Valley’s Fabulous Fun-O-Rama, June’s brothers and sisters gathered around Nell and Drake. “How did you do it?” asked June. “How did you beat them at their game?”
“Elementary,” replied Drake. “Allow Scientist Nell to explain.”
“Thank you, Detective Doyle.” Nell paced the grass, hands clasped behind her back. “Chances are, every one of you has at one time or another played with a magnet.”
“Not me,” said little Judd Junior. “I’ve only pwayed with wocks.” (“Pwayed with wocks” = “played with rocks” in Little Judd Junior Language.)
Nell continued, “Well, little Judd Junior, you will be happy to know that a magnet is a particular kind of rock, a rock that has a magnetic field.”
“Oh, boy,” said little Judd Junior, “’cause I wike wocks.”
“You see,” added Drake. “A magnetic field is similar to an electrical current. In a magnet, the magnetic fi
eld flows from its north pole to its south pole—”
“North pole?” asked June.
“Not the kind with Santa Claus,” Nell said.
“I wike Santa Cwaus a wot,” whispered little Judd Junior. “He always bwings me wocks.”
Nell paced some more. “You see, magnets always have a north and south pole. Divide a magnet in half, and you now have two magnets, each with its own north and south pole. Quite amazing, really.”
“I wish I had a magnet,” said little Judd Junior.
“Ah,” said Nell. “The good news, little Judd Junior, is that some magnets occur naturally. You can find them in the ground.”
Little Judd Junior smiled. “Weawy?”
“Yes, but naturally occurring magnets are usually quite weak. Stronger magnets, however, can be created using an ordinary piece of metal and electricity. Detective Doyle?”
“Thank you, Scientist Nell.” Drake took off his glasses and polished them before slipping them back on. “You can build your own magnet with a battery, some wire, and a nail.”
“Yay!” Little Judd Junior hopped up and down.
Drake continued. “Hook one end of the wire to the positive terminal of the battery, wrap it around the nail, then hook the other end of the wire to the negative terminal, and voila! You have turned a normal, everyday nail into—”
“—an electromagnet,” said Nell. “And just like any magnet, the nail now has a north pole and a south pole, or what we scientists would call a positive and a negative pole.”
“But, unlike a regular magnet,” said Drake, “an electromagnet can be turned off simply by disconnecting it from the battery.”
“But,” asked June, a little confused, “what does this have to do with Shady Jim, and the bull’s-eye?”
“Ah, Ms. Jewell,” said Drake, “now we come to the heart of the matter. As you may well know, opposites attract. The south pole of one magnet will attract the north pole of another magnet, and they will stick together like glue. So how did Shady Jim do it? You see, the puck was also a magnet.”
June, Joe, Jay, Joy, Joan, John, Jean, Jane, Jenn, Jeb, Jed, and little Judd Junior gasped. “But that’s cheating!”
“Whenever Shady Jim played the game,” said Nell, “the electromagnet was activated—”
“By Frisco,” added Drake.
Nell continued, “—and the puck went straight to the bull’s-eye because underneath the bull’seye was the powerful electromagnet. The two opposite poles of the two magnets were attracted to each other. Shady Jim could never miss.”
“But,” said Drake, “whenever one of you tried to win, Frisco simply shut off the electromagnet, making it very difficult to land the puck on the bull’s-eye.”
“But how did he shut it off?” asked June.
“Excellent question, Ms. Jewell,” replied Nell. “No doubt Frisco had a switch in his pocket. Whenever the switch was on, the electrical circuit was complete and the magnet was active. Whenever the switch was off, the circuit was broken and the magnet was off. All Drake did was snip the wire leading to Frisco’s pocket and attach it to the battery, making a new circuit.”
“Right again, Scientist Nell,” said Drake. “The new circuit turned the magnet on permanently, regardless of whether Frisco’s switch was on or off. Then, like Shady Jim, June could not lose.”
“That’s our Sis,” said Joe, Jay, Joy, Joan, John, Jean, Jane, Jenn, Jeb, Jed, and little Judd Junior.
“Thanks, Drake and Nell,” said June. “I’ll bring you each a T-shirt from Magic Valley’s Fabulous Fun-O-Rama as payment.”
Drake and Nell shook hands all around, and left the carnival. (But not before stocking up on some essential supplies: cotton candy, licorice ropes, and a few candy apples. After all, scientists must be prepared for every possibility….)
On this particular blustery morning, Drake was up to his ears in an important experiment. Highly important. He poured a brown solution into a yellow solution, added a pinch of Smell So Squishy, plus a smidge of WOWza! and swirled it around.
“Ahh,” he said as a fragrance filled the room. He recorded the results in his lab notebook:
Banana perfume just right.
Must dab behind ears and monitor.
As he was dabbing, the phone rang. “Doyle and Fossey,” answered Drake.
It was Nell. “Drake, have you forgotten?”
“Forgotten what?”
“You were supposed to meet me to ride our bikes over to Peabody Park. We were going to practice our speeches to get ready for the Mossy Lake Days Parade at two o’clock, remember?”
The Mossy Lake Days Parade was in honor of the town’s 100th birthday. The parade would begin at the school, march down Main Street, and wind through town, over the river and through the woods, ending at Peabody Park, where there would be a splendid picnic for all. Besides live music and a speech from the mayor, there would be speeches from Drake and Nell, dressed as Horace Peabody and Polly Plum, Mossy Lake’s first pioneers, who happened also to be top-notch scientists. (Dr. Horace Peabody invented the flying kazoo, while Polly Plum was famous for her research on the dining habits of barn owls.)
“Great Scott!” cried Drake, accidentally spilling banana perfume on his lab coat. “I completely forgot! Give me ten minutes.”
“Wear your rain gear. Nasty weather.”
“Check.”
Click.
Nell and Dr. Livingston were waiting at the corner by the time Drake arrived. Nell held onto her rain hat to keep it from blowing away.
“My apologies,” Drake gasped, quite worn out from riding his bike into the wind.
“No problem. Did you bring your speech?”
“Affirmative. Written on water-repellent paper with smudge-proof ink. Invented it myself.”
Just then a gust of wind swirled past Nell, and she looked a bit puzzled. “That’s odd.”
“What’s odd?”
“Suddenly I smell bananas.”
And with that, they were off, pedaling down Main Street, with Dr. Livingston running alongside.
Until recently, if one wanted to get to Peabody Park, one had to wind all the way through Porcupine Loop, past Unfortunate Bend, across Plum River, and then pedal (or drive) over Mole Hill before finally ending up at the park. But, to the delight of all, a new bridge had just been constructed over Plum River, connecting Peabody Park directly to town.
The new Mossy Lake Bridge was lovely to look at, with cables, arches, and sidewalks, plus a splendid view over the gorge and Plum River.
Drake and Nell were pedaling too fast to admire the view. They were halfway across the bridge when it happened.
The bridge moved. Not much, just a teensy bit (rather as if they’d hit a bump in the road), but indeed, it moved.
Drake and Nell screeched to a stop.
And through the wind and rain, the two scientists stared at each other.
“Did you feel that, Detective Doyle?”
“Indeed I did, Scientist Nell.”
And, just in case they hadn’t really felt it the first time, the wind gusted. There was another bump! and then a little heave! and maybe a sigh!
“Oh, my,” said Nell.
“This isn’t good,” said Drake.
Woof! cried Dr. Livingston.
“I have a bad, bad feeling about this.” Nell peered over the edge into the gorge and the raging river below. “There’s danger in the air and it smells like bananas.”
“Hmm. What do you think we should do?”
Nell looked at Drake. Her mouth formed a firm line, and Drake knew she meant business. “In just a few hours there will be a lot of people on the bridge: bands, cheerleaders, floats, horses, and trucks. If the bridge isn’t safe …” She left the rest unsaid, because the possibilities were just too horrible to imagine, much less say aloud.
Drake shuddered. “Agreed. We must return to the lab for analysis immediately to determine why the bridge is moving. After all, public safety is more important than polished sp
eeches.”
So as the bridge sighed again, groaning and hiccupping, Drake and Nell hurried back to the lab, with Dr. Livingston leading the way.
There was indeed danger in the air, and it smelled like bananas.
Mrs. Doyle poked her head around the lab door. “Hmm … I thought you two were at Peabody Park practicing your speeches.”
“Pressing business,” said Nell.
“Public safety is our priority,” said Drake.
“Lunch, anyone? Vegetarian chili perhaps? Cheese and crackers? And how about some dill pickles and bana—” Mrs. Doyle sniffed the air. “Oh, smells like you’ve already raided the banana bunch.”
“Excellent menu options,” replied Drake.
“Count me in,” added Nell.
“Got it,” said Mrs. Doyle. “Back in five.”
Drake pulled a book off the shelf, turning to the section titled: “Danger in the Air: What to Do When Your Bridge Sighs, Hiccups, Heaves, and Otherwise Goes Bananas.” Drake and Nell read the section together, their expressions grim.
Mrs. Doyle returned with lunch. “Now don’t forget the parade starts at two.”
Drake glanced at his watch. “T minus one hundred eight minutes, and counting.”
“Horace Peabody and Polly Plum won’t let Mossy Lake down,” said Nell, taking a sip of coffee.
After eating lunch, Drake and Nell sprang into action. They developed a hypothesis, as all good scientists do. They built simulations and tested their hypothesis. They checked the weather report, and then discovered a most spectacular, most terrifying video on the Internet….
Dr. Livingston whined and covered his eyes with his paws, unable to watch a second more.
“Horrifying,” said Drake, quite aghast.
“Mortifying,” agreed Nell, no less aghast.
Drake checked his watch. “Great Scott! It’s T minus three!”
“Roger that, Detective Doyle. I’m on it!”
Woof! Woof!
“Quick, Mom!” cried Drake down the attic stairs. “My costume!”
“Quick, Mom!” cried Nell over the phone. “My costume!”
Case of the Crooked Carnival Page 3