READ ALL THESE
NATE THE GREAT DETECTIVE STORIES
NATE THE GREAT
NATE THE GREAT GOES UNDERCOVER
NATE THE GREAT AND THE LOST LIST
NATE THE GREAT AND THE PHONY CLUE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE STICKY CASE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE MISSING KEY
NATE THE GREAT AND THE SNOWY TRAIL
NATE THE GREAT AND THE FISHY PRIZE
NATE THE GREAT STALKS STUPIDWEED
NATE THE GREAT AND THE BORING BEACH BAG
NATE THE GREAT GOES DOWN IN THE DUMPS
NATE THE GREAT AND THE HALLOWEEN HUNT
NATE THE GREAT AND THE MUSICAL NOTE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE STOLEN BASE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE PILLOWCASE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE MUSHY VALENTINE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE TARDY TORTOISE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE CRUNCHY CHRISTMAS
NATE THE GREAT SAVES THE KING OF SWEDEN
NATE THE GREAT AND ME: THE CASE OF THE FLEEING FANG
NATE THE GREAT AND THE MONSTER MESS
NATE THE GREAT, SAN FRANCISCO DETECTIVE
NATE THE GREAT AND THE BIG SNIFF
NATE THE GREAT ON THE OWL EXPRESS
NATE THE GREAT TALKS TURKEY
NATE THE GREAT AND THE HUNGRY BOOK CLUB
AND CONTINUE THE DETECTIVE FUN WITH
OLIVIA SHARP
by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Mitchell Sharmat
illustrated by Denise Brunkus
OLIVIA SHARP: THE PIZZA MONSTER
OLIVIA SHARP: THE PRINCESS OF THE FILLMORE STREET SCHOOL
OLIVIA SHARP: THE SLY SPY
OLIVIA SHARP: THE GREEN TOENAILS GANG
Delacorte Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2000 by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Mitchell Sharmat New illustrations of Nate the Great, Sludge, Fang, Annie, Rosamond, the Hexes, and Claude by Martha Weston based upon the original drawings by Marc Simont
Cover art and all other images copyright © 2000 by Martha Weston
Extra Fun Activities text copyright © 2000 by Emily Costello
Extra Fun Activities illustrations copyright © 2005 by Jody Wheeler
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York. Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Delacorte Press in 2000..
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House LLC.
Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/kids
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at
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eBook ISBN: 978-0-385-37692-1
Trade paperback ISBN: 978-0-440-41821-4
Book design by Trish Parcell
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
For our granddaughter
Madeline Lucille Sharmat
with much love
—M.W.S.
—M.S.
For the Shopoffs,
my San Francisco family
—M.W.
Contents
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One: Mr. Great
Chapter Two: Calling Nate The Great
Chapter Three: the End of The World
Chapter Four: Joke Stew
Chapter Five: Sticky, Icky Mess
Chapter Six: the Golden Gate Clue
Chapter Seven: Frozen Pancakes
Chapter Eight: Lost in the Big City
Chapter Nine: What’s Wrong is Right
Chapter Ten: A Feathery Hug
Extra Fun Activities
About the Authors
My name is Nate the Great.
I am a detective.
My dog, Sludge, is a detective too.
This morning Sludge and I were
at the airport in San Francisco.
We were supposed to meet
another detective there
at ten o’clock.
My cousin, Olivia Sharp.
Olivia always wears a boa
made of feathers.
This makes her easy to find.
Anywhere.
But all we saw were strangers.
And many people with signs.
All at once, I, Nate the Great,
saw a sign that said
NATE THE GREAT
in big letters.
A man in uniform was holding it.
He came up to us.
“Mr. Great and Sludge?” he said.
“I’m Willie. Miss Olivia’s chauffeur.
She’s out on her eight o’clock case.
It’s running late.
She hasn’t even started
her nine o’clock.”
Willie picked up my suitcase.
“Your limo is over there,” he said.
“My limo?”
“Yes. Miss Olivia always
travels in a limo.
But today she saved it for you.”
I, Nate the Great, had never
been in a limo.
Sludge had never been in a limo.
It was long and shiny.
We got inside.
Willie got in the front seat.
And we were off.
We drove up and down many hills.
“Is everything all right
back there, Mr. Great?” Willie asked.
I looked at Sludge.
He wagged his tail.
“Fine,” I said.
“But can you tell me about the case
that’s making Olivia late?”
“Her friend Duncan
lost a joke book,” Willie said.
“Miss Olivia is looking for it.”
Willie drove us to Olivia’s house
and let us in.
A telephone was ringing.
And ringing.
This was a phone that
needed to be answered.
“Nate the Great for Olivia Sharp,”
I said.
“Hello, Nate.”
It was Annie, from back home.
“We all miss you,” she said.
“And Fang has something to tell you.”
I heard heavy breathing.
I knew that Annie’s dog, Fang,
was on the line.
I was happy to be many miles away
from his teeth.
I waited.
Fang had nothing else to say.
Then I heard a strange voice.
It belonged to Rosamond.
“My turn. Bring back California fish
for my cats. Lots of fish.
All the fish you can carry.
Over and out.”
“I thank all of you
for the call,” I said.
Then I heard another voice.
“Wait! It’s me, Claude.
I lost something.”
Claude was always losing something.
“I lost an itsy bitsy seashell
two years ago
on the Golden Gate Bridge.
Find it!”
Claude hung up.
The telephone rang again
.
“Nate the Great for Olivia Sharp,”
I said.
“Hello. This is Duncan.
It’s eleven o’clock
and the world is coming to an end.”
I, Nate the Great, hoped that
this Duncan person did not have
his information straight.
“I need Olivia,” Duncan said.
“Olivia is out,” I said.
Duncan moaned.
“Then the world
is really coming to an end.”
“Could you be more specific?” I asked.
“Well,” said Duncan,
“I lost my joke book.
I have to tell a joke
to a friend at two o’clock
and I forget how it ends.”
“Olivia is on your case,” I said.
“Yes, I’m her case number twenty-two,”
Duncan said.
“But she is also working on cases number
eighteen and number
twenty-one at the same time.
She’ll never solve mine
by two o’clock.”
I, Nate the Great, had never
heard such a sad voice.
“Very well,” I said. “I will also
take your case.”
I hung up.
Then I called my mother.
The answering machine came on.
I said,
Willie drove Sludge and me
to Duncan’s house.
“I will wait in the limo,” Willie said.
I knocked on Duncan’s door.
He answered it.
Duncan looked even sadder
than he sounded.
His hair was hanging limp,
his socks were drooping,
and his jeans were slipping.
Sludge and I walked inside.
“I am Nate the Great,” I said.
“And this is my assistant, Sludge.
Tell us about your joke book.”
“Well, I was in Booksie’s Bookstore
yesterday,” Duncan said.
“I saw this small book
called Joke Stew.
It was the only copy there.
I bought it.
I left the bookstore
with the book in a Booksie’s bag.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I went to lots of other stores
and bought things.
Then I went to Perry’s Pancake House.”
“A pancake house? Good thinking.”
“Yes, Perry’s Pancake House has
this big, big menu with five pages
of different kinds of pancakes.
I started to read the menu.
The waiter came by.
I ordered mushyberry pancakes.
The waiter left.
I kept reading the menu.
Then I took out my joke book
to find the perfect joke
to tell today.
I found it.”
“Then what happened?”
“The waiter brought the pancakes.”
“Did you put the joke book
back in its bag?”
“I don’t remember,” Duncan said.
“Because something bad happened.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Duncan looked down at his feet.
“I can’t tell you.”
“What can you tell me?”
“The world is coming to an end.”
I, Nate the Great, wished this case
were coming to an end.
I said, “So the last place
you saw your joke book
was in the pancake house?”
“Yes.”
“It might still be there,” I said.
I, Nate the Great,
was sure of one thing.
Pancakes were still there.
Five pages of pancakes to choose from!
“I will be back,” I said.
Willie drove Sludge and me to
Perry’s Pancake House.
“Sniff around outside, Sludge,” I said.
“Look for the joke book.”
“I’ll help Sludge,” Willie said.
I went inside the pancake house.
It looked good, it smelled good.
I walked up to a waiter.
“I am looking for a small joke book
titled Joke Stew,” I said.
The waiter looked mad.
“A girl was just here
looking for it,” he said.
“She was wrapped in feathers.
Said she was a detective.
She put up LOST JOKE BOOK signs
everywhere.
Here. There. Up and down the street.
But we have no joke book.
I know who lost it.
Yesterday this boy came in.
I served him mushyberry pancakes.
He knocked the syrup bottle
over everything.
The pancakes, the menu, the table.
Ugh!
I scooped up all the sticky stuff
and dumped it in a bag.
I handed the bag to him.
I told him that somewhere out there
a hungry family of ants or flies
would love this sticky, icky mess.”
The waiter was getting madder.
I, Nate the Great, knew that I
had to leave the pancake house
without eating.
I did not want to do that.
But I went outside.
Sludge and Willie were standing there.
“We didn’t find the joke book,” Willie said.
“We looked in front.
Then Sludge went out back.
He found garbage cans.
He looked in them.
Isn’t that the wrong place to look
for a joke book?”
“Well, a good detective knows
that sometimes the wrong place
is the right place,” I said.
“Smart dog,” Willie said.
Willie, Sludge, and I got into the limo.
I liked this limo.
It was a good place to think
and to drive around
to see San Francisco.
I, Nate the Great, was thinking.
I was not having any luck
with Duncan’s case.
I had not found his joke book.
I had not found Claude’s seashell either.
Perhaps that was because
I had not looked for it.
“To the Golden Gate Bridge,
please,” I said to Willie.
“A fine bridge, Mr. Great,” Willie said.
When we got there,
Sludge and I peered out the window.
The Golden Gate Bridge
was very, very big.
Claude’s seashell was
very, very small.
This was not going to help Claude.
But suddenly I, Nate the Great,
knew that it might help Duncan!
“I have a Golden Gate clue,”
I said to Willie.
“Onward to Duncan’s house!”
Duncan was waiting for us.
“I know all about the spilled syrup,”
I said. “What did you do with the bag
the waiter gave you?”
“I put it in the freezer,” Duncan said.
“I like frozen pancakes.”
“Did you open the bag first?”
“No, it was too icky and sticky.”
I put my hand on Duncan’s shoulder.
“I, Nate the Great, know
where your joke book is.
It is in your freezer!”
“Oh, cool!” Duncan said.
Was that a joke?
Never mind.
“I, Nate the Great, say
> you were reading the menu.
But you were also reading your joke book.
The menu was big. The book was small.
So the book must have slid
or fallen into the pages of the menu.
Before or while the syrup spilled.
The waiter scooped everything up fast
and put it all in a take-out bag.”
“You are a good detective,” Duncan said.
“Even if you don’t put up signs.”
“No problem,” I said.
“Olivia has her way. I have mine.”
I opened the freezer.
I saw the bag.
I took it out.
I opened it.
It was full of cold, crusty, icky things.
Pancakes, napkins, the top
from a syrup container,
a little tub of butter,
a huge menu …
but no joke book!
“The joke book isn’t here,” I said.
“The world is definitely
coming to an end, correct?”
Duncan looked down at his feet.
“Correct,” he said. “I need my book
at two o’clock. And it’s after twelve now.”
“Do not lose hope,” I said.
“That is the worst thing to lose.”
I sat down.
“I, Nate the Great, need pancakes.
Sludge needs a bone.
They help us think.”
“Have a frozen pancake,” Duncan said.
“Thaw it,” I said.
“I don’t thaw,” Duncan said.
“Very well,” I said.
“A frozen pancake is
better than no pancake at all.
But give Sludge a nice bone.”
I ate a frozen mushyberry pancake.
It did not help me think.
Except about my cold teeth.
“What happened after you left
the pancake house?” I asked.
“Well, I had lots of bags.
I dropped them outside
the pancake house.
Then I picked them up
Nate the Great, San Francisco Detective Page 1