“But I’ve got nothing to do with it!” the Birdman said. “Why do you think I stole it?”
Kate stepped forward. “Easy,” she said. She held up the green feather and held it next to Edgar. “We found this feather under the safe in the stockroom. The safe that used to hold Babe Ruth’s glove. Look! It’s a perfect match!”
The Birdman stared at the feather. “You’re right,” he said with a nod.
“Then you did it!” Mike said. “The feather proves that you were in the gift shop’s stockroom this morning with Edgar!”
The Birdman took a step back. “Well, you’re right again,” he said.
Mike glanced at Kate and smiled. “I knew he took Babe Ruth’s glove!” he said.
The Birdman held up his hands. “No, I didn’t,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Kate asked.
The Birdman smiled. “I was in the stockroom this morning with Edgar,” he said. “But I didn’t take Babe Ruth’s glove.”
The Birdman lifted Edgar off his shoulder and placed him in a tall metal cage nearby. Then he turned back to Mike and Kate.
“You found the feather because I put Edgar in the gift shop’s stockroom while I get ready before each game,” he said. “I left him there for a couple of hours, starting at ten o’clock this morning. I put his cage on the wooden table in the corner of the stockroom, like I always do. He loses a few feathers every now and then. One of them probably just blew under the safe.”
“That doesn’t prove that you didn’t take the glove,” Kate said. “You were in the room.”
The Birdman laughed. “You’re very persistent,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re right! I wasn’t alone in the stockroom. My friend Ernie was with me the whole time.” The Birdman waved to the man running the bouncy house. “Hey, Ernie! These kids want to know if you were with me this morning in the stockroom.”
Ernie nodded and called back, “Yup! I was with him the whole time, like always. We usually help each other get set up. And I help him carry Edgar.”
“Thanks,” the Birdman said. He turned to Mike and Kate. “I didn’t take the Babe Ruth glove, and I don’t know who did. Sorry!”
“We’re glad it wasn’t you. Sorry we thought it might be,” Mike said. “We’ll just have to keep looking!”
“I’ve got to get back to my customers,” the Birdman said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help!” He turned to a family who was waiting to meet Edgar.
Kate looked at Mike. “Do you believe him?” she asked.
Mike shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “It seems like he and Ernie are telling us the truth. But maybe they’re working together and they’re good liars. We need to keep digging.”
Kate nodded. “I agree,” she said. “Let’s head to our seats to see how Flaps is doing. We can figure out what to do next from there.”
Mike and Kate made their way to their seats near the Orioles’ dugout. Mike pointed to the scoreboard. “Oh no, look at the score!” he said. The Orioles were losing by four! A Seattle player was up at bat, and Flaps was still pitching.
“Come on, Flaps!” he cried. “You can do it!”
Flaps wound up and pitched. The ball sailed high and outside. The batter tossed his bat gently to the side and jogged to first base. “The Orioles aren’t going to win by walking the batters,” Mike said.
Flaps was able to get the next batter out, so all hope wasn’t lost for the Orioles. The following batter worked Flaps to three balls and two strikes and then hit a single. The man on first advanced to second. Flaps needed an out.
The fans stood up and cheered for the Orioles. “Come on, Flaps!” Kate called. “Strike him out!” She and Mike clapped and yelled.
Flaps studied the batter and then threw a fastball down the middle of the plate. The batter swung. Strike one!
Mike and Kate cheered more!
Flaps waited for the sign from the catcher and prepared to throw again. This time, he threw a curveball. But the batter swung and got a piece of it! The ball sailed in between the first baseman and the shortstop for a double.
“I don’t think the pancakes are helping him today,” Mike said.
The catcher walked out to talk to Flaps on the mound. Flaps put his glove in front of his mouth so the other team couldn’t tell what he was saying.
Mike nudged Kate’s knee. He pointed to the big scoreboard in the outfield. It had a clock in the middle and two metal orioles on either side. “Those birds are weather vanes,” he said. “They’re supposed to tell the batters which way the wind is blowing. But the players say they don’t work. Instead, if you want to know which way the wind is blowing, look at the smoke from the barbecue stand behind the scoreboard!”
“That’s funny,” Kate said. “I guess you just need to know what to look for.”
Mike nodded. “And maybe it’s the same with Babe Ruth’s glove,” he said. “Maybe we’re not looking for the right thing.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked.
“The Birdman didn’t steal the glove like we thought,” Mike said. “But we know he was in the stockroom right around the time the glove was stolen. What if he saw a clue or heard something strange when he was doing it? We forgot to ask him if he spotted anything unusual today!”
“You’re right!” Kate said. She stood up and started to head for the walkway. “It’s worth a try.”
Mike and Kate ran back through the stadium to the Kids’ Corner. The Birdman had just finished taking pictures of a little boy with Edgar when they arrived.
“Birdman?” Mike asked. “We had one more question for you. When you dropped off and picked up Edgar, did you happen to see anything or anyone unusual?”
The Birdman leaned back and thought for a little bit. “Hmmm,” he said. “I said hello to Judy the cashier at the gift shop when Ernie and I walked in. But we didn’t see anything strange near the stockroom.”
“Okay, thanks anyway,” Mike said. He turned to Kate. “We should go talk to Judy, in case she saw something.”
“And Ernie, too,” Kate added.
“Foul ball!” Edgar squawked.
Mike leaned over to Edgar. “I know you can talk, but I wish you could answer questions!” he said. “You must know who stole the glove because you were in the room when it happened! How about a little clue?”
The Birdman laughed. “I’m afraid Edgar can only repeat what he’s learned,” he said. “If he could have a real conversation, I’d be a millionaire!”
Kate laughed.
“Come on, Edgar! Did you see someone strange in the stockroom?” Mike asked. “Who broke into the safe?” He waited for an answer from Edgar, but the bird just glanced from Mike to the Birdman.
Mike shrugged. “I guess he didn’t see anyone,” he said. “Maybe he was sleeping. Or maybe he doesn’t want to talk!”
As Mike turned to walk back to Kate, Edgar gave a shrill whistle. Then he launched into “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” again.
Mike started bobbing his head and humming along. “Edgar’s telling us we need to head back to the ball game since we’re out of ideas,” he said. He hummed a few more seconds and then stopped. “Or maybe he’s giving us what I asked for. A clue!”
The Birdman stared at Mike. “What do you mean?” he asked. “How can Edgar be telling you a clue? What did he say?”
“It’s not what he said,” Mike said. “It’s what he whistled.”
Mike licked his lips and puckered up. As Kate and the Birdman listened, he whistled “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” “Edgar’s been whistling that all day,” he said. “You even said that today was the first time you had ever heard Edgar whistle that song!”
“That’s right,” the Birdman said. “I don’t know where he picked it up.”
“I do,” Mike said. “Because Kate and I have heard that song before. In fact, w
e heard it here yesterday.”
Kate nodded. “After the game,” she said. “When we were running the bases. The man who told us when to start had a phone that played ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’!”
“Bingo!” Mike said. “What if he’s the thief and his phone rang while he was in the stockroom stealing the glove? His phone would have played ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’! That’s how Edgar learned it. And he kept whistling it to tell us who the thief was!”
“I always knew Edgar was a smart bird,” the Birdman said.
“Now we just have to find the man with the phone,” Kate said. “But the Orioles don’t let kids run the bases again until next Sunday.”
“Do you know where he might be?” Mike asked the Birdman. “He had a big bushy beard. Any idea who he is?”
The Birdman thought for a moment. “You know, I’m not sure I do,” he said. “I’ve seen a man at one of the food stands with a big bushy beard, but I can’t remember which stand, and I’m not even sure it’s the same guy.”
“Okay, thanks,” Kate said. “Mike and I will start by checking out the food stands.”
The Birdman glanced over at the line that was forming for him and Edgar. “Good luck!” he said. “I have to get back to work.”
Mike and Kate ran to the main walkway around the stadium. Food stands stretched as far as they could see, interrupted only by souvenir shops and bathrooms.
“We’ll have to work fast,” Kate said.
“Normally, I’d love to stop at each food area,” Mike said. “But today I’d rather just go to one—the one where that guy works!”
They went from one food stand to another, stepping up to the counters and checking out the workers.
“This is going to take a while,” Mike said after they had stopped at their fourth food area. It was selling Mexican food. “I never realized how many food stands there are at a ballpark!”
Kate nodded. She watched as workers quickly made tacos and burritos for hungry fans. They all wore uniforms and baseball hats.
Kate grabbed Mike’s arm and pointed to the man behind the counter. “Hey, look at his hat!” she said.
The man’s hat had a green and a red chili pepper on it.
“This is a Mexican food stand and all the workers have hats with chili peppers on them,” Kate said. “When I saw that, it reminded me of the bushy-bearded man’s hat from yesterday. It had a big crab on it! He must work at a crab stand, so we don’t need to check all the food stands, just ones that sell crabs!”
“Good work,” Mike said. He gave Kate a high five. “Let’s go!”
Mike and Kate followed the walkway around the stadium, stopping to check out each food stand.
“Look,” Mike said, pointing to a gourmet hot dog stand. “Crab mac-and-cheese hot dogs!” He and Kate ran over to get a closer look at the workers behind the counter. But they were all wearing baseball hats with hot dogs on them.
“This isn’t the place,” Kate said.
“Nope,” Mike agreed. He pointed to a potato chip stand across the walkway. “What about that place?”
He and Kate ran over and studied the menu board. “Crab chippers. What are they?” Kate asked the server.
“Delicious!” the server said with a smile. Her baseball cap had a brown potato on it. “It’s a big pile of freshly made potato chips covered with cheese and crab meat! Want to try some?”
Mike took a step back. “Oh, no thanks,” he said. “Maybe later!” He tugged Kate’s shirt and started to walk away from the stand.
Kate reached over to feel Mike’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “I’m not sure I’ve seen you turn down free food before!”
“We’ve got a job to do!” he said. “No time for food right now.”
As Mike and Kate reached the next food stand, Kate noticed it was the first one they had stopped at. “We’ve gone in a big circle!” she said. “That means the crab man must be on the upper level!”
“I know we need to find the glove, but I’m tired of crabs!” Mike said. “Crab cakes, crab rolls, crab mac-and-cheese, crab hot dogs, crab pretzels, crab dip waffle fries, crab chippers! Crab and more crab! It’s enough to make me crabby!”
“You don’t need any foods to do that, Mike,” Kate joked. “You’re always crabby! Quick, let’s take the escalators to the upper deck.”
On the next level, they passed by food stands staffed by people wearing baseball hats with images of potatoes, hot dogs, chili peppers, ice cream cones, and more. But no crab hats.
As they were nearing the end of the upper deck, a huge cheer sounded from the crowd in the stadium.
Mike stopped. He pointed to one of the hallways leading to the seating area. “Hang on,” he said. “I want to see what happened. Maybe Flaps is doing better!”
“Okay,” Kate said.
As Mike turned to walk down the hallway, Kate reached out and stopped him. “Wait!” she said. She pointed to an area just beyond the next stairway. “There’s the crab guy!”
“Wow! It sure looks like him!” Mike said. “Let’s make like a crab and pinch him!”
The man with the bushy beard from the day before was standing behind a metal food stand just a little farther down the hallway. His baseball cap had a big white crab on it. A sign above the stand read OLD COVE CRAB SOUP.
A line of people was in front of the stand waiting for crab soup. The fans kept the man with the beard busy filling large paper cups with hot crab soup. The stand had a lower counter in front and large vats of crab soup on the left side. At the back of the stand was a small work area with a few boxes and other things on it.
“We need to find the glove,” Kate said. “I bet he’s got it hidden somewhere in the stand. He has to be able to take it out of the stadium without anyone seeing it.”
“Let’s sneak up behind the stand and snoop around,” Mike said. “It looks like he’s busy up front serving customers. I’ve got an idea.”
Mike walked in the direction of the stand. But about halfway there, he moved over near the back wall. Then he squatted down and rocked back while extending his arms. He plopped his hands on the ground behind him and started to scuttle along the floor doing a crabwalk. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s pretend we’re playing crab soccer!”
“Great idea!” Kate said.
Mike pulled his tennis ball out of his pocket and rolled it over to Kate as she dropped down near the wall and started to do a crabwalk, too. He and Kate scurried along the wall. Mike kicked the ball closer to the back of the crab stand, and then Kate kicked the ball. They continued until they were just behind the stand.
“There! We need to look at those!” Mike said. He pointed to a dark area behind the stand where there were stacks of large white buckets. “He could be hiding the glove in one of them!”
Mike grabbed his tennis ball and stood up. Kate shifted to her knees and reached for one of the white plastic buckets. Its white-and-blue label said OLD COVE CRAB SOUP. She popped the top off and looked inside. It was empty and smelled like crab soup. “Yum!” Kate said as she put the cover back on and placed it to the side.
Mike did the same from the other side of the pile. They worked through the buckets one by one until they met in the middle.
“There’s definitely no glove in those buckets,” Mike said. “We need to look somewhere else.” He surveyed the area. “The only other place he could be hiding the glove is in the stand,” he said. “Here, I’ve got another idea. Let’s play catch!”
Mike tossed the tennis ball to Kate, and she tossed it back to him. He took a few steps backward along the side of the stand while they continued to throw the ball back and forth. In between throws, they scanned the inside of the stand for possible hiding places.
The front of the stand held only the cash register, cups and spoons, and large pots of soup. At the back of the stan
d was a counter filled with newspapers, some plastic bags, a thermos, a bag of pretzels, and a pizza box.
Kate caught the ball and walked over to Mike. The line in front of the stand had gone down to one person. The man behind the counter had just handed the fan a cup of soup and taken her money. “Maybe it’s under the newspapers,” she said. “I’ll keep him busy up front. You lean over the edge of the stand and check.”
Mike nodded. “Okay,” he said.
Kate headed for the front counter and waited for the other fan to finish. Mike slowly walked over to the back side of the stand. If the man turned around, he would clearly see Mike spying.
The customer in front took her change and walked away. Kate stepped up to the counter and winked at Mike.
“Can I please try samples of the different soups?” Kate asked.
As the soup man reached for plastic spoons to give Kate a taste, Mike darted to the side of the stand. He quietly ran his hands over the newspapers on the back counter and flattened them down. There was nothing under them.
The soup man offered Kate a second taste of soup.
Mike leaned farther over the wall of the stand and stuck his hand inside the pretzel bag. It struck something sharp and hard. He pulled out a pretzel stick. He stuck it in his mouth, and then motioned to Kate to keep going.
Mike leaned back over the low wall and grabbed for the pizza box, but his fingers just scraped the edge of the box. He pushed up on his tiptoes and slowly inched the box closer. Mike checked the front of the stand. Kate was sampling more soup.
Mike pried the top of the pizza box up slightly. It was hard to see inside. He shifted the box and lifted the lid fully.
Inside the pizza box was an old, flat baseball glove!
Mike reached back over the wall and grabbed one of the empty plastic bags on the counter. He checked to make sure it was clean and dry, and then slid Babe Ruth’s baseball glove from the pizza box into the bag. He closed the pizza box, set it back down on the counter, and stepped away from the stand.
Ballpark Mysteries #15 Page 3