by Gary Paulsen
“That’s handy,” Amos said, “if you want to cut out paper dolls or something.”
T.J. stuck his bottom lip out. “Okay, you asked for it.” He pointed the pen at Amos and pushed another button. Nothing happened. “It must be stuck. It’s supposed to squirt ink in your face. I guess I’ll have to work on it.”
He banged it on the table just as Rosie brought their food. A big ink blob splattered her apron.
T.J. jumped up, dipped his napkin in his glass of water, and tried to wipe it off, but he only succeeded in smearing it. “I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Macdonald. I was just showing my friends how my pen worked, and—”
“Sit down quickly, boy. You’re drawing attention to us.” She set the food on the table. Then she laid the ticket upside down beside Dunc. “Be sure you check that ticket carefully, boy. You never know. It might surprise you.”
Dunc waited until she was on her way back to the counter, then picked up the ticket. Only it wasn’t a ticket. It was a piece of paper with a message on it.
Keep your noses where they belong. There’s trouble in the offing.
P.S. Stay in your rooms at night.
Amos frowned. “It doesn’t make sense. What language is it written in?”
Dunc stuffed the paper into his pocket. “That’s the way these guys talk over here. I think Mr. Smith’s trying to warn us about something. Hurry and finish eating. We need to go someplace where we can talk.”
Dunc stopped on the old bridge in front of the castle and took out his notebook. “Let’s see. So far we have: a weird noise we can’t explain, a bottle of whisky, a suspicious conversation involving the housekeeper and Mr. Macbeth, and a strange message from Mr. Smith. Have I left out anything?”
“Yeah,” Amos said. “The monster.”
Dunc shook his head. “We haven’t determined that there is a monster.”
Amos sighed. “The problem is, we haven’t determined there isn’t. It’s all in how you look at it.”
Dunc flipped the notebook shut. “This is one of the most puzzling cases I’ve ever had. Nothing fits.”
Amos leaned over the side of the bridge and threw a rock into the stream. “I vote we forget it and go fishing.”
T.J. opened his trench coat. “Your wish is my command.” He reached deep into a side pocket and produced a short pole and a miniature tackle box.
“I take back what I said earlier. You’re amazing, T.J.” Amos took the pole and headed for the water.
“Not really. My dad told me there was trout fishing up here, so I came prepared.”
Amos followed a trail that led underneath the old bridge. He put the pole together and baited his hook. “Come on down here, you guys. Watch the master fisherman at work.”
Dunc and T.J. worked their way down the steep trail. Dunc sat down in the shade of the bridge. “The last time I watched the master fisherman, he got his line caught in someone else’s lunch basket. He wound up catching the biggest bologna sandwich on the dock.”
“That was back when I was an amateur. I’m better now. I’ve been practicing.”
“I didn’t know you’d been down to the dock,” Dunc said. “You didn’t say anything about it.”
“I don’t tell you everything. Besides, I wasn’t practicing at the dock.”
“If it wasn’t at the dock, then where—”
Amos cast out into the stream. “There’s this new program on channel nine. It comes on every afternoon before my mom gets home from work. It’s all about different kinds of fishing techniques.”
“So where have you been practicing?” Dunc asked.
Amos reeled in. “I’ve always been one of those hands-on type learners. You know, actually do the thing while the teacher’s explaining it.”
“I have a feeling he’s trying to tell us he practices in his living room,” T.J. said.
“Oh.” Dunc watched him cast. “What do your parents think of that?”
“I don’t think it would have been that big of a problem if my mom hadn’t come home early with her Welcome Wagon group.”
“What happened?” Dunc asked.
“The show that day was on fly fishing. I made a spectacular cast just as Mrs. Higgins, the mayor’s wife, walked in our front door. The hook landed on her head. I knew if I didn’t handle it just right, I’d be in trouble. So I gave it a gentle pull and reeled my line back in. The only problem was, her hair came with it. How was I supposed to know Mrs. Higgins was bald?”
T.J. laughed. “Then what happened?”
“Mrs. Higgins wasn’t a very good sport about it. She busted my new pole over my head and stomped out the door. My mother threw out all my fishing gear and said if I ever touched a fishing pole again, I’d be bald.”
Dunc was about to remind Amos that he had his hands on a fishing pole when he heard someone talking on the bridge overhead.
“I’ll be glad when we get this shipment ready. Things are getting too dangerous with those kids hanging around. The boss says we can lay low awhile after we get this one out.”
“I don’t think it’s the kids you’re worried about, Jimmy Knox. I think it’s himself. The ghost of Robert Ramsey. Your mother has you scared to death at the mention of his name.”
The two men walked on over the bridge and out of hearing range. Amos recognized the look on Dunc’s face. That look meant trouble.
They were in T.J.’s laboratory. Dunc and T.J. were hovered over a desk making plans. Amos was playing with a remote-control flyswatter.
Dunc looked up. “Pay attention, Amos. You’re not going to know what’s going on.”
“I don’t want to know what’s going on. That way I don’t have to be a part of it.”
T.J. held up a drawing. “Look at this, Amos. It’s a drawing of our secret weapon.”
“I don’t need to look. I know it’s not going to work.”
“What makes you so sure?” T.J. asked.
“Two reasons. First, the odds are bad. Dunc’s never had a plan yet that actually worked. And second, nobody in their right mind would wander up and down dark secret passages at night with a vicious, people-eating monster running loose.”
Dunc frowned. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s no monster. Besides, we need you for this.”
“As what—bait?”
“Of course not. You have the key role.”
Amos eyed them both suspiciously. “Just what exactly do you have in mind?”
T.J. brought the drawing over. “See, we have this costume—”
Amos took the paper. “That looks like the suit of armor on the stairs.”
Dunc nodded. “It is.”
“Are you both crazy? You want me to wear a suit of armor? It’s too heavy. I won’t be able to move.”
“Isn’t it great, Amos?” T.J. added some detail to the drawing. “Dunc thought of it. He got the idea when Jimmy Knox said he was afraid of the headless ghost, Robert Ramsey.”
“Why do I get stuck with the armor? Why don’t one of you boy geniuses wear it?”
“We thought of that,” T.J. said. “But you’re the tallest, so it will fit you better, and Dunc and I have other things to do.”
“Like what?”
T.J. picked up something off the table. “Like making sure these antigravity air shoes have enough power to hold you and the suit of armor up in the air. You have to look like you’re floating.”
Amos took one of the shoes and looked it over. “I thought you said you didn’t have all the bugs worked out of these yet.”
T.J. grabbed the shoe. “I will have—by tonight.”
Dunc brought a chair over. “Sit down, Amos. Let me explain the plan.”
Amos slumped down in the chair. “If it’s the usual, I kill myself while looking like a total idiot and you two come out without a scratch.”
“Come on, Amos, it’s getting late.” Dunc pulled him up off the bed. “You have to practice walking. We want to be ready when we hear the noise.”
Amos tapped on the outside of hi
s armor. “I feel like the tin man in The Wizard of Oz.” He peeked up over the top of the neckpiece. “I can barely see where I’m going.”
“Let’s try the shoes,” T.J. said. “You activate them by tapping the heels together—”
“Like I said, The Wizard of Oz.”
“—and you deactivate them by pulling on the shoestrings. Try it.”
“Shhh.” Dunc put his finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”
A muffled clanking sound came from behind the fireplace.
“That’s it,” Dunc said. “They’re back there somewhere. Now’s our chance to find out what’s going on.”
“But Dunc”—T.J. frowned—“we haven’t had a chance to test it yet. What if it doesn’t work?”
“It’ll work.” Dunc led Amos to the fireplace. “Trust me.”
Amos snorted. “You could have gone all night without saying that.”
T.J. grabbed some extra candles and moved inside the fireplace. “Ready or not, here we come.” He pulled the lever and the wall slowly turned around.
Dunc flipped on his flashlight. “It sounds like it’s coming from that direction.” He started off down the dark tunnel.
“Wait for me,” Amos whispered. “I’m carrying a few extra pounds here.”
Dunc trotted back. “Put your arms around us. We’ll help carry some of the weight until we get close.”
T.J. wiggled underneath one of Amos’s arms. “Isn’t this exciting?”
“That’s not what I would call it,” Amos said. “Stupid is more—”
Dunc stopped. “We’re getting closer. The noise is louder. You guys wait here. I’m going up ahead to check things out.”
They waited in the dark for a few minutes. T.J. lit one of his candles. “I wonder what’s taking him so long? Maybe I better make sure he’s okay.”
Amos grabbed T.J.’s arm. “He said to wait.”
“Here.” T.J. lit another candle and handed it to him. “I’ll be right back.”
Amos thought about sitting down, but he couldn’t figure out how. He leaned up against the wall and waited. And waited.
“Dunc? T.J.? You guys aren’t playing tricks on me again, are you?” Amos moved slowly down the passage the way they had gone. A man’s hand reached silently from the cover of a side tunnel. It hit the armor and glanced off. Amos didn’t feel it. He kept moving toward the noise at the end of the passage.
He rounded the next corner and stopped. The passage opened up into a large room set up like a factory. One man was putting empty bottles into a machine, and another man was slapping labels on them as fast as they came out.
Amos took a step back and accidentally rubbed his heels together. He could feel himself slowly rising off the floor. He frantically reached for his shoelaces but the armor wouldn’t let him bend.
The ceiling was coming closer. Amos ducked through the archway into the factory. He tried walking in backward in the air, but every time he moved, he lunged forward.
The men in the room stopped working and stared at him. For a minute he had them worried. He floated across the room like a ghost with no head. It might have worked the way Dunc said it would—if one of his shoelaces hadn’t gotten caught on the corner of a machine.
One air shoe deactivated immediately. The heavy armor started to tilt sideways. Amos could feel his top half losing altitude. He was hanging upside down. One leg was suspended straight up, the other pedaling frantically trying to get upright. Amos reached up for his other shoelace. He managed to grab the tip and pull.
His landing could have been better.
A couple of inches to the left, and he would have missed the large vat of homemade whisky. As it was, he hit it dead center. He might have drowned if two of the workers hadn’t pulled him out.
Jimmy Knox sneered at him. “It’s one of them snoopy kids. Tie him up until the boss figures out what to do with him.”
“I think not.” Mr. Smith was standing in the doorway with several policemen. “Put your hands in the air.”
Mr. Smith lit his pipe. “Scotland Yard has had this place under surveillance for several months. We had reports of bootlegging in this area but no solid evidence.”
Dunc sat on the sofa in the great room. “You mean these guys were running an illegal whisky-making operation?”
Mr. Smith nodded. “Mr. Macbeth was the brains behind it. It was his idea to rent the castle to you as a cover for the operation. He hired Mrs. Knox and her son and a few others to make sure things went smoothly. When I grabbed you boys in the tunnel, we were just about to make our arrest.”
“How about you?” T.J. asked. “Who hired you?”
“I was hired by the owner. When I showed my letter of employment to Mr. Macbeth, he had no choice but to accept it.”
“Who is the owner?” T.J.’s dad asked.
Mr. Smith cleared his throat. “The Queen.”
T.J.’s eyes popped wide open. “You work for the Queen?”
“I do. And I have been in touch with Her Majesty this very morning, and she wishes me to convey her appreciation to you boys for your help in providing—shall we say—the little distraction that allowed us to get the edge on our suspects.”
T.J. turned to his father. “You should have seen my invention, Dad. Amos went clear to the ceiling. Hey—where is Amos anyway?”
Mr. Smith smiled. “Your friend and myself had a long conversation over breakfast about—”
An ear-splitting noise came from the top of the stairs. Amos was standing on the landing blowing into a set of bagpipes. He was dressed in a red plaid kilt.
Amos took a breath. “What do you guys think?” He turned all the way around to give the full effect. “Mr. Smith says this getup really impresses the girls over here. I thought I’d try it on Melissa.”
Complete silence.
“What?” Amos looked down at himself. “Is it the dress? Too much knee? What?”
Mr. Tyler and Mr. Smith headed for the kitchen. T.J. and Dunc were moving fast toward the front door.
“Where’s everybody going? Don’t you want to hear my next song?”
The front door slammed.
Amos stared after them, wondering what was wrong. He shrugged, and a happy look crawled across his face.
Maybe, he thought, I should call Melissa and play a song for her. That’s it. A sneak preview of coming attractions. She’ll probably meet me at the airport. The music will win her over. Ill have to fight her off. But I won’t be pushy, play it slow. I’ll wait a couple of days to announce our engagement.…
Be sure to join Dunc and Amos in these
other Culpepper Adventures:
The Case of the Dirty Bird
When Dunc Culpepper and his best friend, Amos, first see the parrot in a pet store, they’re not impressed—it’s smelly, scruffy, and missing half its feathers. They’re only slightly impressed when they learn that the parrot speaks four languages, has outlived ten of its owners, and is probably 150 years old. But when the bird starts mouthing off about buried treasure, Dunc and Amos get pretty excited—let the amateur sleuthing begin!
Dunc’s Doll
Dunc and his accident-prone friend Amos are up to their old sleuthing habits once again. This time they’re after a band of doll thieves! When a doll that once belonged to Charles Dickens’s daughter is stolen from an exhibition at the local mall, the two boys put on their detective gear and do some serious snooping. Will a vicious watchdog keep them from retrieving the valuable missing doll?
Culpepper’s Cannon
Dunc and Amos are researching the Civil War cannon that stands in the town square when they find a note inside telling them about a time portal. Entering it through the dressing room of La Petite, a women’s clothing store, the boys find themselves in downtown Chatham on March 8, 1862—the day before the historic clash between the Monitor and the Merrimac. But the Confederate soldiers they meet mistake them for Yankee spies. Will they make it back to the future in one piece?
Dunc
Gets Tweaked
Dunc and Amos meet up with a new buddy named Lash when they enter the radical world of skateboard competition. When somebody “cops”—steals—Lash’s prototype skateboard, the boys are determined to get it back. After all, Lash is about to shoot for a totally rad world’s record! Along the way they learn a major lesson: Never kiss a monkey!
Dunc’s Halloween
Dunc and Amos are planning the best route to get the most candy on Halloween. But their plans change when Amos is slightly bitten by a werewolf. He begins scratching himself and chasing UPS trucks: he’s become a werepuppy!
Dunc Breaks the Record
Dunc and Amos have a small problem when they try hang gliding—they crash in the wilderness. Luckily, Amos has read a book about a boy who survived in the wilderness for fifty-four days. Too bad Amos doesn’t have a hatchet. Things go from bad to worse when a wild man holds the boys captive. Can anything save them now?
Dunc and the Flaming Ghost
Dunc’s not afraid of ghosts, although Amos is sure that the old Rambridge house is haunted by the ghost of Blackbeard the Pirate. Then the best friends meet Eddie, a meek man who claims to be impersonating Blackboard’s ghost in order to live in the house in peace. But if that’s true, why are flames shooting from his mouth?
Amos Gets Famous
Deciphering a code they find in a library book, Amos and Dunc stumble onto a burglary ring. The burglars’ next target is the home of Melissa, the girl of Amos’s dreams (who doesn’t even know that he’s alive). Amos longs to be a hero to Melissa, so nothing will stop him from solving this case—not even a mind-boggling collision with a jock, a chimpanzee, and a toilet.
Dunc and Amos Hit the Big Top
In order to impress Melissa, Amos decides to perform on the trapeze at the visiting circus. Look out below! But before Dunc can talk him out of his plan, the two stumble across a mystery behind the scenes at the circus. Now Amos is in double trouble. What’s really going on under the big top?
