The Case of the Beagle Burglar

by Nancy Krulik

  The Case of the Beagle Burglar

  BY NANCY KRULIK

  ILLUSTRATED BY GARY LaCOSTE

  For Pepper, for obvious reasons

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Preview

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  The baseball was soaring right toward me. I was ready. Any second now, I would catch the game-winning ball and … Ouch! The ball smacked me right in the head.

  I opened my eyes. Wow. That was so real. It was like I’d actually been playing professional baseball—which is totally my dream. And it was like I’d really gotten slammed in the head with a ball—which is totally not. I’d had a dream and a nightmare all in one.

  My dog, Scout, padded into my room. He stuck his snout near my face and gave me a lick. Whoa, did his breath smell. Scout wakes me up that same way every morning. He’s like a stinky alarm clock.

  Scout really needed to go out. I could tell by the way he was pacing around on his brown and white beagle legs, with his long, floppy ears stiff against his head.

  The last thing I wanted to do was clean up beagle pee. I leaped out of bed and looked for my Angels T-shirt.

  Only, the shirt wasn’t in my drawer. It wasn’t anywhere. This was not good. I always wear my Angels shirt on Fridays. It’s my good-luck-on-the-spelling-quiz shirt.

  Scout was circling around and around. I knew I had to hurry. So I threw on my Orioles shirt. It had gotten me a B on my math quiz on Monday. I guessed that would do.

  Scout was kind of hungry, like he always is in the morning. So I figured this would be a real quick walk. Number one. Number two. And then back inside for breakfast.

  But as soon as Scout and I stepped outside, I saw two squirrels on the lawn. Uh-oh. Squirrels meant trouble.

  Scout’s ears perked up. He’d seen the squirrels, too.

  Squeak. Squeal. Squeak. That was the squirrels.

  Ruff! Ruff! That was Scout.

  “HEY!” That was me shouting as Scout took off after the squirrels, with me on the other end of his leash.

  The squirrels ran up the side of an oak tree.

  Scout jumped up and down at the base of the tree.

  BAM! Something slammed me on the head, hard. It felt kind of like the baseball in my dream. But this thing was real. And it hurt.

  Whatever it was hit me so hard it knocked me to the ground. My fingers shook. My toes wiggled. My head buzzed.

  A few seconds later, when I opened my eyes, Scout was standing over me.

  “Are you okay, Jack?” I heard someone ask me in a low-pitched, dopey kind of voice.

  I sat up slowly and looked around. I didn’t see anyone except Scout and the two squirrels he’d been chasing.

  “Does he look okay?” I heard someone with a high voice ask sarcastically.

  “I dunno,” the dopey voice answered.

  “He looks rotten,” a second squeaky voice said. “You dogs are so dumb.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. I looked up at the two squirrels. “I just have to catch my breath.”

  Whoa. Wait a minute. Was I talking to squirrels?

  I blinked and tried to wake up from this dream. It had to be a dream. Just like the baseball one I’d had earlier. Except this dream wasn’t ending.

  “It was those squirrels,” Scout told me. “They hit you with an acorn. Squirrels are a real pain in the neck.”

  “And in the head,” I replied. I rubbed the lump on my skull.

  Whoa. Again. I was talking to my dog. This was no dream. I was really talking to Scout. But I couldn’t be. That was impossible.

  Except it was happening.

  My stomach started to feel the way it had that time I ate too many hot dogs and then went on the Double Dip Flip roller coaster. I felt like I was going to puke. What had happened to me?

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Scout insisted. “I wouldn’t even have been near that tree if Zippy and Zappy hadn’t been teasing me.” He stopped for a minute. “Hey! I understood every word you just said! How did that happen?”

  Funny, I was wondering the same thing.

  “I mean, I always understand some things you say, like out, or sit, or cookie, or good dog. But now …”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s strange. It doesn’t sound like you’re barking anymore. It’s just like you’re talking to me. And so are they.” I pointed to the squirrels.

  “You mean Zippy and Zappy,” Scout said. “Zippy’s the one with the bite in his ear.”

  “Hey!” Zippy argued. “Can I help it if I got in a fight with a raccoon?”

  “And Zappy’s the one with the crooked front tooth,” Scout continued.

  “Hey!” Zappy said. “They don’t make braces for squirrels.”

  “You guys have names?” I asked the squirrels.

  “Sure,” Zippy said.

  “Don’t you two-legged animals have names?” Zappy added. That made sense. But it was about the only thing that did. I couldn’t believe that I was suddenly talking to animals.

  “How did this happen?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Zippy said. “Unless …”

  “Unless what?” I asked him.

  Zippy looked at Zappy. “You don’t think that old story Grandpa Zoomer told us could be true, do you?”

  “What story?” Scout and I both asked at the same time.

  “It was just a silly fairy tale,” Zappy said. “He told us this was a magic tree. Grandpa used to say if you hit a two-legged big head with an acorn from this tree, he’d get special powers.”

  “Like being able to talk to animals?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” Zappy told me. “Grandpa didn’t really say what kind of special powers.”

  “I thought it was just some story he told us to get us to stay in the tree when it was bedtime,” Zippy said. “But it must have been true.”

  “I guess so,” I said. “I mean, you did hit me with an acorn from this tree, and I am talking to you guys.”

  “Yeah,” Zippy and Zappy said at the same time. “Weird, huh?”

  It was weird. Really weird. But kind of cool, too. How many other kids could talk to animals? No one I knew.

  Wait until my best friend, Leo, heard about this!

  I stopped myself right there. Leo could never hear about this. No one could.

  They’d think I was crazy. And I wasn’t one hundred percent sure I wasn’t.

  One thing I was sure of was that I was hungry. I had to get moving if I was going to have time to eat breakfast before the school bus came. I stopped talking and yanked Scout back toward the house. I was in a hurry. But I still needed to do one more thing today—change my shirt. The one I had been wearing was all muddy from when I fell on the ground. My mom wouldn’t be happy if I tried to go to school with mud on my shirt. So I ran upstairs and quickly put on my Phillies shirt. That shirt had gotten me an A– on my last grammar quiz. I figured I’d need luck like that to get me through today.

  Chapter 2

  Later that morning, my class was busy doing research in the school library. We were working on plans for our science fair projects. Unfortunately, I was having trouble concentrating, thanks to all the animal chatter going on around me.

  No one else in my class could un
derstand animal talk. So they didn’t hear the two moths that were flying around the lamp on my table. But I did.

  “You’re hogging all the light,” I heard one moth say. “How am I supposed to get tan? Look at me. I’m white all over.”

  “We’re supposed to be white all over,” the other moth said. “We’re moths.”

  Just then, Leo sat down next to me. He had a pile of science books in his arms.

  “You know the grammar quiz isn’t until Tuesday, right?” he asked me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

  “You’re wearing your Phillies shirt,” Leo said. “That’s your good-luck-on-the-grammar-quiz shirt.”

  Leo is a great best friend. He keeps track of stuff like that. And he doesn’t think I’m weird for having lucky T-shirts.

  “My Angels shirt was in the wash,” I told him. I looked at his stack of books. “You figure out what you’re doing for the science fair?”

  “Yeah,” Leo said. “I just have to make my list of supplies and draw up the plan.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes. Leo’s hair is always a curly mess. I don’t think he ever combs it. Today he had something fuzzy stuck in it.

  I wasn’t surprised that Leo already had his science fair idea all planned out. He’s really into science. He got a microscope for his birthday, and it’s his prized possession. Just like the Derek Jeter rookie baseball card my dad got me for my birthday.

  Unfortunately, baseball cards didn’t do me any good in school. I was the only kid in the class who didn’t know what he was doing for the science fair.

  Too bad I didn’t have a good-luck-coming-up-with-a-science-project shirt.

  “Uh-oh,” Leo whispered. “Here comes trouble.”

  I turned just in time to see Trevor the Terrible coming toward us. That was definitely not good. Trevor was the meanest kid in the third grade. He was also the biggest. Leo was the shortest. So when Trevor was next to Leo, he looked like a mountain. A mean mountain.

  Trevor plopped himself down in the third chair at our table. “Leo, did you get the answers to five, fourteen, and nineteen on the math homework?” Trevor whispered.

  Leo shrugged. “I’m pretty good at math.”

  “Hand ‘em over,” Trevor demanded.

  Leo didn’t say a word. But he didn’t reach into his backpack, either. That made Trevor mad.

  “Come on, Cubby,” he said

  Cubby was Leo’s mom’s nickname for him. She called him that because Leo is a lion’s name, and lion babies are called cubs. But no guy wants anyone knowing about something like that. Especially not when that someone is Trevor the Terrible. But Trevor had heard Leo’s mom call him Cubby once, and that was all it took.

  I couldn’t imagine what Trevor would do if he found out I’d been talking to animals that morning. Yikes! I definitely had to keep that secret!

  Leo looked at Trevor. Trevor glared at Leo. Leo hesitated. Then he reached into his bag.

  “Here,” Leo said, pulling out his worksheet. “But what if Mrs. Sloane finds out?”

  “She won’t,” Trevor said. “And besides, she wouldn’t be mad. She loves me.”

  That was true. Trevor was the kind of kid who knew just what to say to a teacher to make her like him. That just made the rest of us kids fear him even more.

  “What about when we have a test?” Leo asked him.

  “No problem,” Trevor told him. “I’ll sit next to you. Or the Brainiac.”

  We all knew who the Brainiac was. Elizabeth Morrison: the smartest girl in the third grade. Leo was good at math and science. But the Brainiac was amazing at everything.

  We all looked across the room at Elizabeth. She was busy scribbling notes in her binder. Her hair looked like red, squiggly worms, and she was smiling like this science fair was the greatest thing since Disney World. Weird.

  Elizabeth looked up. She waved right at me.

  Oh man. There’s nothing more embarrassing than getting caught staring at someone. Especially when that someone is a weirdo like Elizabeth the Brainiac. She was always smiling at me and doing this batting-her-eyelashes thing. It was creepy.

  “One of these days you’re going to get caught copying,” Leo told Trevor.

  “Who’s gonna tell?” Trevor asked. “You? ”

  The way Trevor said you was scary. Leo and I sunk down in our seats, which only made me feel smaller next to Trevor.

  Just then, Mrs. Sloane walked over to our table. Trevor quickly tucked Leo’s math sheet into his notebook.

  “Hello, Trevor,” she said. “I see you’ve switched tables.”

  Trevor flashed a big, phony smile. “I’ve already got my project planned out. But Jack doesn’t. I’m helping him brainstorm.”

  “You’re a good friend.” Mrs. Sloane smiled at Trevor. Then she frowned at me. “You’d better get on it, Jack. The science fair is next week.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As Mrs. Sloane walked away, I stared at Trevor. “Why did you get me in trouble?” I asked him.

  Trevor smiled. “Because you make it so easy,” he said.

  Grrr. Trevor the Terrible had struck again.

  Chapter 3

  By the end of lunch, I still had no idea what I was going to do for the science fair. So I wasn’t in a particularly good mood when I went outside for recess.

  Things kept getting worse. I started hearing animals talking again.

  “Hup … two … three … four. Hup … two … three … four.”

  I looked down to see an army of tiny ants marching into an anthill.

  “I don’t know but I’ve been told. Anthill Four is really bold,” they chanted. “SOUND OFF. One, two. SOUND OFF. Three, four …”

  “Look out above!” one of the ants shouted out suddenly. “Incoming giant foot! Troops, run for cover!”

  The ants all scattered out of the way of the huge foot shadow that was looming above them. They escaped just seconds before Leo’s sneaker would have squashed them.

  “Hey, Jack, you want to play wall ball?” Leo asked as he walked over to me. He held up a yellow tennis ball. “This one’s got lots of bounce. I took it out of a fresh can this morning.” He started to bounce the ball on the blacktop.

  “DON’T!” I shouted.

  Leo stared at me. “It’s okay. I asked my mom if I could take it.”

  “No,” I said. “I mean don’t bounce it there. You’re gonna squash the anthill.”

  Leo gave me a weird look. “So what?”

  “So what?” I repeated. “But they’re …” I stopped midsentence. What was I going to say? “It’s just that, well, they didn’t do anything to us, so why should we do anything to them?”

  “That’s so sweet, Jack,” Elizabeth said.

  I looked at her, surprised. “Where did you come from?” I asked.

  “From behind that tree,” she said with a goofy grin. “I was watching you watch the ants.”

  Okay, that was creepy.

  By this time, a crowd had gathered around Elizabeth, Leo, and me.

  “In some countries, killing animals—even insects—is considered murder.” Elizabeth twirled a curly red hair worm around her finger. “I’m glad you’re not a murderer, Jack.”

  Please stop, I thought.

  But Trevor the Terrible had already heard her. “Me, too, Jack,” he said in a girly voice. The other kids all laughed.

  Trevor was really getting on my nerves. I wished I could stamp him out—just like Leo had almost done to the ant soldiers. But of course I couldn’t. Ants were little. Trevor was huge.

  “Hey look, it’s Big Head.” I suddenly heard someone say.

  “Hi, Big Head!” Someone else called to me.

  I looked up in the tree. There they were. Zippy and Zappy.

  Zippy held up an acorn. “Look out below!” he shouted.

  Bam! The acorn landed right on my head.

  “Gotcha, Big Head,” Zippy teased.

  “Cut it out!” I shouted.

  “What did you
say?” Trevor asked. He stood up really, really tall.

  I started getting that hot-dogs-on-a-roller-coaster feeling in my stomach again.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” I said. “I was … um …” I couldn’t tell all these kids about Zippy and Zappy. So instead I said, “I was talking to the Brainiac. She’s bugging me.”

  Elizabeth looked like she’d been punched in the gut. Her eyes got red, and her nose started to run. She wiped her nose with her hand and walked away.

  I felt kind of rotten about doing that. But I had no choice. Trevor the Terrible would have teased me for the rest of my life if he knew I was talking to squirrels.

  Sorry, Brainiac, I thought to myself. But during recess, it’s every man for himself.

  Chapter 4

  After school, Leo and I headed over to the hardware store. He was going to buy the supplies he needed for his science project. And I was going to look around and hope that something in the store gave me an idea.

  But it was hard for me to think about science, or anything else. How’s a guy supposed to think when all around him animals are talking?

  We were almost at Pig Path Road when I heard a bunch of pigeons arguing over a bagel on the ground.

  “That big piece is mine,” a brown and white pigeon said, taking a bite.

  “I’m always stuck with the burned part,” a pigeon with a black spot on his wing said.

  “I’m going to a different restaurant,” an all-white bird cooed. “There are too many pigeons here.”

  “You are a pigeon,” Black Spot reminded her.

  “I’m a dove,” she corrected him.

  As she flew off, the spotted bird clucked angrily, “Doves are just pigeons with attitude.”

  I laughed.

  Leo looked at me. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  Oops. I’d almost blown it. I couldn’t tell Leo about this whole talking-to-animals thing. I didn’t want my best friend to think he was hanging out with a crazy person.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly.

  I kept quiet the whole rest of the way. I didn’t even mention the baby birds I heard arguing over who had gotten the bigger piece of chewed-up worm, even though I knew Leo loves cool stuff like chewed-up worms. I tried to keep things normal.