TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
A SUMMER TRIP
Chapter Two
FIRST ACTIVITY
Chapter Three
THE MISSING RANGER
Chapter Four
ALL TIED UP
Chapter Five
OPENING THE CASE
Chapter Six
THE STUDIO
Chapter Seven
SNEAKING IN
Chapter Eight
CAMPSITE
Chapter Nine
FIRE!
Chapter Ten
ONE MORE ACTIVITY
Chapter Eleven
HOME!
Chapter Twelve
CASE CLOSED
Literary News
Arts & Entertainment
A Detective’s Dictionary
Cat’s Paper
Further Investigations
In Your Own Detective’s Notebook . . .
Copyright
Back Cover
STUDENTS
Catalina Duran
A.K.A: Cat
D.O.B: February 15th
POSITION: 6th Grade
INTERESTS:
Animals, being “green”, field trips
KNOWN ASSOCIATES:
Archer, Samantha; Garrison, Edward; and Shoo, James.
Are these students spending too much time together?
NOTES:
Catalina is well liked by most of her teachers and fellow students.
Sounds like a troublemaker.
CHAPTER ONE
A SUMMER TRIP
One thing I’ll always remember about Mount Rushmore: It’s far.
It’s far from everything else in the world, I think.
My best friends and I went with the rest of the History Club on a special summer trip. The bus ride was long. And it was hot.
The bus’s air conditioner wasn’t working, so all the windows were as far open as they’d go.
“Cat,” said Samantha, better known as Sam. She was sitting next to me in the back row of the bus. Her voice was quiet and dry. “Pass me the bottle of water, please.”
I nodded slowly and reached into my tote bag. “It’s almost empty,” I said. I handed it to Sam. “Don’t finish it. It’s the last water we have.”
Sam frowned as she unscrewed the cap. She took a short sip.
“Thanks,” she said. She could barely get the words out.
I leaned my head against the window, letting the warm summer air blow across my face a little. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing.
“It’s . . . so . . . hot,” I said.
Sam tried to nod. Her mouth fell open and she panted. Then she closed her eyes and collapsed against my shoulder.
“Stop being such drama queens!” Gum said. He and Egg were sitting across the aisle, watching me and Sam.
Egg snapped a picture of Sam playing dead. Then we all busted up laughing.
“Okay, future historians,” said Ms. Juniper, the gym teacher and the faculty advisor of the History Club. She was in the front of the bus, standing carefully in the aisle, holding on to the back of a seat.
She also had a whistle around her neck. She always had a whistle around her neck. “We’ll be arriving shortly,” she said.
Everyone cheered, except Anton Gutman. He stood up and shouted, “No problem! After all, Egg does everything shortly.” Then he cracked up.
No one else laughed. Not even his two thug friends. “Get it?” Anton said through his laughter. “Because he’s short?”
Ms. Juniper blew her whistle. Even at the back of the bus, I had to slap my hands over my ears. That’s how loud Ms. Juniper’s whistle was.
Anton was sitting right next to Ms. Juniper. She liked to keep him close where he couldn’t cause trouble. The whistle was close to his ear, and he actually fell over.
“That’s enough of that, Anton,” Ms. Juniper said. “You are on this trip because your grade in history was beyond terrible. One more mean word out of you, my friend, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in the sixth grade.”
She sighed. “Now, as I was saying,” she went on, “we’re nearly there. As we come around the next bend, you can look at the windows on the right side of the bus. What you’ll see is pretty amazing.”
Everyone strained and leaned to see out the windows as we came around a bend, going uphill.
I had one of the best seats on the bus. In front of us was a small grove of evergreen trees and then a sloping field of rocks. The bus slowed down till it was barely rolling.
At the top of the field of rocks, past a few more pine trees, was an amazing sight: Mount Rushmore.
Sam said, “Whoa.”
Gum gave a low whistle.
Egg snapped photo after photo.
I smiled.
There was the most famous sculpture and the most famous mountain in the United States. The faces of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln, four of the country’s greatest presidents. The faces were carved right into the side of the mountain, a hundred times larger than life.
The whole History Club was awed. We’d all been excited for this trip, and now that we were here . . . wow.
Except Anton, of course. He just laughed. “Hey,” he said, pointing out the window, “the guy on the right has a big booger on his face.”
Sam stood up in her seat. She leaned far forward and shouted at Anton, “That’s Abe Lincoln, you dummy.”
“Everyone sit down!” Ms. Juniper said. Then the bus started on again, back down the hill toward the park’s main entrance.
“Whatever,” Anton said. He smiled at his goon friends. “Whoever that guy is, he has a big booger on his face.”
CHAPTER TWO
FIRST ACTIVITY
The only bad thing about getting the back seat (the best seat) on the bus is that you’re always the last person off the bus. That day, with the temperature about a million degrees, waiting to get off the bus was not easy.
By the time Sam and I finally tumbled off the bus, we could hardly breathe. But the air outside in the Mount Rushmore National Memorial park was much cooler. It even smelled nice — like pine trees and fresh-cut grass.
“We have two very busy days ahead of us, gang,” Ms. Juniper said. “Everyone get your gear and your lunches from the bus’s cargo hold. We’ll eat quickly, then start our adventures!”
* * *
Unpacking and eating didn’t take long. We’d all been told to pack light. I’d brought a change of clothes, a notebook, and a sleeping bag, plus one lunch and toothbrushes and stuff, of course. We sat down for lunch at some picnic tables next to the parking lot. By then we were all completely starving.
Just as I was swallowing the last bite of my cheese and cucumber and tomato sandwich, Egg started clicking his camera like crazy.
It was weird. Not Egg taking photos. He takes photos all the time.
The weird thing was he was pointing the camera at the parking lot behind me.
“Um, Egg?” I said. “The monument is over there.”
Egg snapped a couple more times. “I know,” he said. “I’m not taking pictures of the monument right now. Look.”
A group of high-school-age kids was gathered right in the middle of the parking lot. Some of them were carrying signs, but from where we were, I couldn’t read them.
“What do you suppose they’re doing?” Sam asked.
Gum wasn’t impressed. He went back to eating his baloney sandwich. “Who knows,” he said through a mouthful of food. “People will protest anything. Remember when Cat protested at the zoo?”
“Those animals wer
e cooped up in tiny, tiny cages!” I replied, annoyed.
Sam raised her hand. “Ms. Juniper,” she said. “Why are those people here?” She pointed toward the group in the parking lot.
Ms. Juniper glanced up from her sandwich. “Them?” she said. She squinted, trying to get a look at their signs. “I don’t know.”
A park security guard strolled by. “They’re Lakota kids,” he said. “There are several Lakota reservations here in South Dakota.”
“What are they protesting?” I asked.
“It’s complicated,” the guard said. “The short answer is that they think this land and this mountain are Lakota property.” Someone called for the guard, and he jogged off.
“Everyone finish up,” Ms. Juniper said. She gave a couple of short blows on her whistle. “It’s time for our first activity. Who’s ready for the Ranger Walk?”
It sounds dorky, but after being cooped up on that hot bus, we actually cheered. So we were all disappointed when that security guard came running back to the picnic area.
“The Ranger Walk is off!” the guard was shouting. “Ranger Harrison is missing!”
CHAPTER THREE
THE MISSING RANGER
“Missing?” Ms. Juniper said. “Doesn’t the ranger live on the park grounds?”
The guard nodded. “Yes,” he said. “He shares a cabin with his daughter. I’m heading over to his cabin now. The caretaker will meet me there.”
Sam whispered, “Get up. We have to follow the guard so we can see what’s going on.”
The four of us stayed well behind the guard as he jogged across the grounds. He didn’t notice us. At the cabin, we hid among some bushes around the corner from the front door.
Ranger Harrison’s house was a small log cabin among a few tall pines. Standing on the front porch was an old man in a brown shirt and pants. “I’m ready to open the door, if you need me to,” the old man said.
The guard nodded. Then he banged on the door. “Ranger Harrison,” the guard shouted through the door. “Are you in there?”
There was no answer. My friends and I quietly came around the corner. The guard patted the old man on the back.
“Go ahead,” the guard said. “Open the door.”
The old man pulled a long chain from his pocket. Then he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Thanks, Herman,” the guard said. They walked into the cabin.
A second later, Sam crept in after them. Egg, Gum, and I had no choice but to go in too.
“Harrison?” the guard called. “Are you in here?”
No response. The guard walked into the back hallway. “Hello?” he said.
“Hey,” Egg whispered close to my ear, “where did the old guy go?”
An instant later, a hand gripped my shoulder. The caretaker snapped, “What are you kids doing?”
Egg and I spun to face the caretaker. “You kids shouldn’t be here,” he said. “Why aren’t you with your class?”
“We —,” Sam started to say.
The guard cut her off. “Ranger Harrison!” he shouted. He ran through the bedroom door.
My friends and I ran in behind him. A man wearing striped green pajamas was tied to the bed. A red and white bandanna was tied over his mouth. His eyes were wide with fear.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALL TIED UP
“Who did this to you?” the guard said after he pulled the bandanna from the ranger’s mouth.
“I don’t know,” the ranger said. He gasped and breathed heavily and quickly. “Please, untie me.”
We ran to the bed to help.
“What are you doing?” the guard said. “This is a crime scene.”
“We’re detectives,” Sam said. “Honorary ones, anyway.”
The guard just stood there, looking shocked, as we untied the ranger.
“Didn’t you see the culprit, sir?” Sam asked.
“Whoever it was,” Ranger Harrison said, shrugging, “he tied me up while I was still asleep.” He got up from the bed and stretched his arms. “That feels much better,” he said. “Thanks.”
“I’ll have to call the police,” the guard said. He left the room as he pulled out his walkie-talkie.
“Doesn’t your daughter live here too?” I asked the ranger. “Maybe she saw something.”
“She always leaves the house very early,” the ranger said. “She likes to take a hike at sunrise. Then she helps at the gift shop.”
Egg snapped a few photos of the bedroom. “Good idea,” Sam said, nodding. “It’s super important to take pictures of the crime scene.”
“Wow, you kids really are detectives, huh?” the ranger asked.
“We solve crimes all the time,” Gum said.
The ranger looked around the room. His eyes fell on a gold watch on the dresser. Then he glanced at his laptop computer on a desk in the corner. Finally, he looked at his cell phone, which was on the night stand next to his bed.
“I don’t get it,” the ranger said. “Whoever did this, they didn’t steal anything. Nothing at all.”
Sam frowned. But before I could ask her what she was thinking, the ranger cleared his throat.
“Well, kids,” he said, “it’s been a pleasure to meet you, but I have a Ranger Walk to lead, so I better get into uniform. If you’ll excuse me?”
He led us toward the cabin’s door. The caretaker followed us out and closed the door behind us.
CHAPTER FIVE
OPENING THE CASE
The Ranger Walk was pretty interesting. Ranger Harrison taught us all about the natural history of the mountain, and he also told us about who used to live there.
It turned out the protestors in the parking lot were kind of right. The Lakota people had lived there for a long time before the United States even existed. Ranger Harrison said they called the mountain Six Grandfathers. It was renamed “Mount Rushmore” in the 1800s.
Of course, Sam wouldn’t let me listen too closely to Ranger Harrison. She was too busy thinking about why he’d been tied up in his cabin.
“What I don’t get,” Sam said, “is why anyone would tie up the ranger if they didn’t want to rob him.”
“I can think of one reason I would have tied up that ranger,” Gum said. “So my feet wouldn’t hurt.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam asked. “Your feet hurt because we’ve been hiking.”
“Exactly,” Gum said. “And if the ranger had stayed tied up in his bed, we wouldn’t be hiking. So my feet wouldn’t hurt.”
Sam smiled. “I get it,” she said. “Whoever tied up that ranger might have been trying to stop him from leading this hike.”
“But why?” I said.
“That,” Sam said, winking at me, “is the question.”
“Our next activity is in one hour,” Ms. Juniper said when the hike was over. “Stay nearby.”
Ranger Harrison said goodbye to us. Then he walked down to the parking lot. A police car was there. The ranger went over to the officers.
“Should we go listen in?” Egg said.
Sam nodded. “You go ahead,” she said. “Don’t get too close. Cat and I will find the ranger’s daughter at the gift shop.”
Egg nodded.
Gum said, “I have to spy with Egg? I wanted to go to the gift shop!”
“There’ll be time for both,” I said.
Sam and I waved as Egg and Gum walked off. Then she and I went into the gift shop.
Most of the History Club was already inside. A woman about my mom’s age was on a stool behind the counter.
“I don’t think that’s Ranger Harrison’s daughter,” I whispered to Sam.
We walked around the store. Finally, in the back corner, we found a girl standing on a stool, dusting a shelf full of models of Mount Rushmore.
“Hello,” I said.
The girl turned around and looked down at me and Sam. I smiled at her. “Hi,” she said. “Do you need help finding something?”
“We were looking for you, ac
tually,” Sam said.
“Um, me?” she said. Her eyes darted around the store. She looked like maybe she needed a way to escape.
But there was something else in her eyes, too. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
“You are Ranger Harrison’s daughter, right?” Sam asked.
“Yup,” the girl said, “I’m Ruthie Harrison.”
“Is your father okay?” I asked. “We . . . heard about what happened this morning.”
“Oh,” the girl said. “Yes, he’s fine. Thanks. Didn’t he just lead your tour?”
My face got hot. Of course he was okay. I felt stupid for asking.
“Still,” Sam said quickly, “it was probably pretty upsetting for him to be tied up like that.”
The girl shrugged. “I guess so,” she said. “Listen, I’m supposed to be working, not standing around chatting. I’ll see you.”
Ruthie walked off, carrying her duster, and disappeared into the gift shop’s back room.
CHAPTER SIX
THE STUDIO
Our next field trip activity was in the Sculptor’s Studio. Ms. Juniper led the way. “This should be very interesting,” she said. “Especially for you kids who are also in the Art Club.”
It was like a mini-museum. There were sculptor’s tools and little models of the monument itself. Plus, since the monument was so big, some of the tools were not your typical sculptor’s tools. There were climbing gear, huge picks, and a small version of the monument that took up a lot of the room.
“Look at this!” Egg said. He was over by the window, snapping photos.
The view of the monument was amazing. Gum and I hurried over to look, but Sam grabbed my wrist.
“Guys,” she hissed. “Look!”
She was pointing at a piece of equipment behind Egg. It was like a cylinder, with a crank on each side. It was behind a rope and obviously hadn’t been touched in years. But now it was turning all on its own. Everyone gasped.
Then a low voice boomed from the copy of the monument. “Get out!” it said.
The Mount Rushmore Face That Couldn't See Page 1