“Come on, Sis,” said Brother. “It’ll do you good to get greasy and smelly for a change.”
Sister just shook her head and stubbornly folded her arms.
Papa motioned Brother over and whispered, “I don’t think it’s the ‘greasy’ or ‘smelly’ part that’s bothering your sister, son. It’s the ‘graveyard’ part. You know how Sister feels about spooky places.”
“But it’s not a real graveyard,” Brother whispered back. “It’s just a bunch of old cars.”
“Nevertheless,” whispered Papa, “it can be a pretty spooky place. Especially in late afternoon, when the sun is going down and the shadows loom large …”
Brother shivered in spite of himself. But he wasn’t going to look chicken like his sister. “What about you, Bonnie?” he said bravely. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?”
“Sure,” said Bonnie. “It’s a date.”
“Some date,” muttered Sister. “Going to a smelly old auto graveyard!”
Papa was too busy that day to give Brother and Bonnie a ride to Parts R Us. So they walked. Parts R Us was out on the main highway just past Birders Woods. It was a good half-hour stroll from the Bears’ tree house.
By the time Brother and Bonnie got there, the bright afternoon sunshine was already starting to fade. They went straight to Two-Ton Grizzly’s office, which was in a huge truck cab resting on piles of railroad ties. Behind the office was the Grizzly family home, an even stranger building. It looked as if it were made of truck bodies welded together. That’s because it was made of truck bodies welded together. The rumor was that all the furniture in the house had seat belts. The Grizzlys had lived in their weird house for so many years that when they tried moving to an ordinary house, they couldn’t get used to it.
Two-Ton looked at Brother and Bonnie with surprise as they climbed into his office. He swung his feet down off his desk. “All right,” he said to Brother, “what’s that cub of mine done now? So help me, if he’s bothered you or your girlfriend …”
Brother blushed. “Bonnie’s not my girlfriend,” he said. “She’s just my friend.”
“Whatever,” said Two-Ton.
“Anyway, we’re not here about Too-Tall,” Brother explained. “We’re looking for a hood ornament for a 1954 GG roadster. Have you got one?”
“If we ain’t got it, we’ll get it,” said Two-Ton, putting his feet back on the desk.
“But have you got it now?” asked Brother. “We need it in time for the big car show. We also need hubcaps.”
Two-Ton shrugged his massive shoulders and waved a hand at his windshield window. Through it the cubs could see the vast auto graveyard. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “My suggestion is to start at the back and work your way up to the front. That way you’ll end up here by closing time—which is six o’clock sharp, by the way. If you get lost, just walk around until you catch sight of the office. That’s why I built it on top of railroad ties—to help folks who get lost out there. That, and so I can keep a lookout for parts thieves.”
The cubs thanked Two-Ton and walked away from the office, through a forest of wrecked cars and used parts, until they could see a chain-link fence.
“This must be the back,” said Brother, looking around. They were surrounded by heaps of junk. “Let’s get to work.”
For two solid hours, Brother and Bonnie climbed through wrecked cars and sorted through mounds of parts. It was beginning to get dark when they finally found the hubcaps. A complete set of four, with the GG logo on each. And they were in perfect condition—at least they appeared to be so in what was left of the late afternoon light.
“Fantastic!” said Bonnie. “Do you think they’re from a 1954 roadster?”
“We can hope,” said Brother.
Bonnie wanted to leave the hubcaps at the office and go home, but Brother insisted they keep looking. “Where there are GG hubcaps,” he said, “there just might be a GG hood ornament, too.”
After a few more minutes of searching, though, Bonnie had had enough. “Come on, let’s go home,” she said. “It’s getting so dark I can’t even tell what these parts are anymore.” She held one up. “Is this a hood ornament?”
Brother squinted in the gloom. “Nah,” he said. “That’s a door handle, I think. Wish we had a flashlight.”
Just then a beam of light shone through a pile of truck parts. Heavy footsteps sounded in the dusk.
“Someone has a flashlight,” whispered Bonnie. “And here he comes!”
“Quick, get down!” whispered Brother. The cubs crouched beside a wrecked pickup truck and shivered with fright as the footsteps and flashlight beam came around the pile of junk.
When the light hit them right in the eyes, they screamed.
“Calm down, cubs,” said a gruff voice. “It’s just me, Two-Ton. Closin’ time.”
Brother and Bonnie heaved sighs of relief and fell into each other’s arms.
“I thought you two were just friends,” chuckled Two-Ton.
“We are,” said Brother. “You scared us, that’s all.”
“Whatever,” said Two-Ton. “Come on, let’s get back to the office before it gets really dark. My night vision stinks. I’m afraid I’ll trip over something and break my neck.”
But Two-Ton didn’t seem to have any trouble seeing in the dark. He moved so quickly among the mountains of wrecks and parts that the cubs could hardly keep up with him.
“Whew!” said Two-Ton when they were safely back in the brightly lit office. “That’s better.”
“If your night vision is so bad, then how do you catch parts thieves at night?” asked Brother.
“I don’t,” said Two-Ton. “I leave that to Too-Too and Too-Much. Their night vision is a lot better than mine.”
At first it seemed strange to Brother and Bonnie that the biggest, strongest bear in Beartown would leave catching thieves to his wife and daughter. But after a moment’s thought, it didn’t seem so strange, after all. Two-Ton’s wife was small but fierce. And Too-Much, Two-Ton’s daughter, worked as a bouncer at a local bar and was one tough cookie.
“Your papa called,” Two-Ton told Brother. “He’s pretty upset with you cubs for staying out so late. He’s on his way over now. It’s a good thing you found those hubcaps to soften him up. What’s that you’ve got in your hand, Bonnie?”
“Oh, this?” said Bonnie. “Just a door handle I forgot to throw back.”
But as they all looked closer, they saw it wasn’t a door handle. It was a hood ornament. With the GG logo on it!
“By golly!” said Two-Ton. “I’ll bet that thing was taken off the same car as the hubcaps. When he sees the stuff you found, Papa Bear’s gonna stay mad for about one second!”
Chapter 5
Lost and Found
Two-Ton was right. Papa didn’t stay angry long when he saw the genuine GG hood ornament and hubcaps that Brother and Bonnie had found. After dropping Bonnie off at Grizzly Mansion, Papa and Brother hurried to Barry Bruin’s house to ask the local classic car expert to identify the parts. Barry checked his car books and was able to match the hood ornament with a picture of a 1954 GG roadster. But the hubcaps were a different story. They looked just like the hubcaps from several different makes of GG roadster.
“How can we nail this down?” asked Papa.
Barry shrugged. “I wonder if Grizzly Gramps remembers who sold him the roadster back in ’54,” he said. “Maybe a former GG dealer could tell if these are ’54 hubcaps.”
As soon as he and the cubs got home, Papa called Gramps and explained his problem.
Gramps thought for a while. “Nope,” he said finally. “I can sort of picture him. But I can’t remember the young feller’s name.” He paused. “Wait a minute. I’ve got an idea. Don’t move. I’ll be right over.”
Papa, Mama, and the cubs were still debating what Gramps’s idea might be when Gramps pulled up in his pickup truck and hurried up the front steps of the tree house.
“Let’s have a loo
k at one of those hubcaps,” he said eagerly.
“Right over there,” said Papa. He had stacked them on a towel in the corner.
Gramps picked up one of the hubcaps and looked it over. “Aha!” he cried. “I knew it!” He held the hubcap up so that the others could see the letters that had been scratched on the inner surface. “There! You see? GG!”
Papa, Mama, and the cubs gave each other puzzled looks.
“So a Grizzly Garage hubcap says GG on the inside,” said Papa. “So what? It says GG on the outside, too.”
“No, no, no!” cried Gramps. “Not GG for ‘Grizzly Garage’! GG for ‘Grizzly Gramps’! I scratched my initials inside all the hubcaps of my roadster. So if they ever got stolen, the police could tell they were mine!”
It took a moment for what Gramps was saying to sink in.
Finally, Brother said, “You mean, these are the exact same hubcaps that were on our red roadster when you bought it in 1954, Gramps?”
“Yep,” said Gramps. “Without a doubt. Same goes for the hood ornament, I expect.”
“When were they stolen?” asked Mama.
“In 1955,” said Gramps. “Police never caught the thief. What’s wrong, Brother? You look kind of funny.”
At first Brother didn’t realize that Gramps was speaking to him. “Oh,” he said, “I was just thinking about where Bonnie and I found the parts …” His voice trailed off.
“Hmm,” said Gramps. “You don’t mean—Two-Ton Grizzly, a thief? Oh, no. That’s ridiculous. Two-Ton is an honest business-bear. Always has been and always will be.”
“Gramps is right,” said Papa. “Besides, if Two-Ton had stolen these parts, he would have sold them to a classic car collector by now.”
“Right you are, Papa,” said Gramps. “I think I know what must have happened. The thief didn’t know how valuable these parts would become, so he sold them to Two-Ton for a few dollars. And Two-Ton didn’t know how valuable they’d become, either, so he tossed them out on his lot with all the junk. And that’s where they’ve been these many years!”
Chapter 6
The Great Car Robbery
The very same hood ornament and hubcaps that had been stolen from the Bear family roadster way back in 1955! It seemed too good to be true. But it was true. Gramps had proved it. And a great boon it was to Papa’s chances of winning a prize at the big car show. Both Gramps and Papa had taken good care of the red roadster over the years. It was in great condition. And now it had all its original parts.
The red roadster, with its shiny hood ornament and gleaming hubcaps, looked terrific as Papa drove it slowly up Main Street in the grand procession of classic cars on the day before the big show was to open. Just in front of Papa were three of Squire Grizzly’s chauffeurs, driving the squire’s 1938 Grizzillac, his 1932 Bearsenburg, and his 1927 Bearcedes. And in front of them, at the head of the procession, was Squire Grizzly himself, driving his prized 1922 Bear MW.
The Bear MW was a convertible, and the squire had the top down. Like many of the other owner-drivers, he wore a long white duster, the kind of coat drivers often wore to keep the dust off their clothes in the old days of open cars and dirt roads. Proudly, he, Papa, and the other owners drove their classic cars onto the Bear Country School athletic field, which was decked with flags and bunting.
Bears from all over Bear Country were already pouring into Beartown for the big show. The state police were stationed along all the roads into Beartown to control the traffic. Beartown’s hotels and motels were full. So were its shops and restaurants. It seemed as if the classic car show was just about the greatest event in Beartown history.
Until the big day came. That’s when disaster struck.
Early that morning, before the athletic field opened to the public, Barry Bruin showed Mayor Honeypot the podium that had been built for his opening speech.
“That will foo dust jine,” said the mayor, who had a habit of getting the fronts and backs of his words mixed up. “Er, I mean, do just fine.”
But Barry didn’t hear the mayor. He was looking in horror across the sea of classic cars on the athletic field. “Oh, no!” he gasped. “I don’t believe it!”
“Rut’s wong?” asked the mayor. “I mean, what’s wrong?”
“Cars are missing!” cried Barry. He counted, “… five, six, seven … eight!”
“Mars are kissing?” said the mayor. “I mean, cars are missing? That’s terrible! Bet Chief Gruno! Er, get Chief Bruno!”
Barry dashed to the school building and called not only Chief of Police Bruno but also Squire Grizzly and Papa Bear. That’s because the eight missing cars included Papa’s red roadster and all four of the cars the squire had entered in the show.
Squire Grizzly and Papa Bear reached the athletic field even before Chief Bruno. Papa was out of breath because he’d run all the way from the tree house. But the squire, who had ridden in one of his chauffeured Grizzillacs, had plenty of breath. “Stolen!” he roared. “My four finest classic cars! This is an outrage!”
Papa just looked sadly out at the empty space where his red roadster had been. The squire put an arm around his shoulders and said, “Cheer up, friend. You lost a car, but I lost four.”
“But you must have twice as many cars in your collection,” answered Papa.
“Thrice as many,” the squire said proudly.
“I just lost my entire collection,” Papa said. “Besides, my family has no way of getting around now.”
Just then Mama and the cubs came running up. In his panic, Papa had run way ahead of them. Now they stood panting, staring at the spot where their car had been.
Squire Grizzly realized the Bears were in much worse shape than he was. He offered to loan them a Grizzillac with a chauffeur. Papa and Mama accepted gratefully.
Then the squire turned to Chief Bruno, who had just arrived. “How will you catch these crooks?” he demanded.
Mayor Honeypot spoke up in support of his chief of police. “That’ll be difficult, Squire,” he said. “By now the thieves must be gong lawn. Er, I mean, long gone.”
“Oh, no, they aren’t,” said the chief. “The state police have been watching all the roads out of town. And they have orders to stop any classic cars going out of Beartown until the car show is over.”
“Maybe the thieves aren’t outsiders,” suggested Brother. “Maybe someone from Beartown did it.”
“Yes, and I know who!” cried Squire Grizzly. “Ralph Ripoff! Once again that sleazy swindler has lived up to his name!”
Chief Bruno shook his head. “I don’t think so, Squire,” he said. “Ralph’s just a small-time con artist. He could never pull off a multimillion-dollar car theft.”
“But he might be involved,” insisted the squire.
Chief Bruno frowned and scratched his head. He was in a tough spot. He and Officer Marguerite had their hands full with the car show. There was no way they could investigate a major crime at the same time.
“Okay, here’s what I’ll do,” said the chief. “For today, I’ll deputize the Bear Detectives to search Beartown for the stolen cars. They know the area as well as anybody. They can share the squire’s loaner car. And I’ll give them a police radio so they can contact me at any time.”
Brother and Sister had been standing there with sad looks on their faces, thinking about their stolen car and how bad Papa and Mama must be feeling. But now their eyes lit up. Riding around in a chauffeured Grizzillac to investigate the Great Car Robbery! Cool!
“The Bear Detectives reporting for duty!” they chorused.
“Good,” said Chief Bruno. “First, I want you to pay Ralph a visit and see what he knows. After that, check out all the places where the cars might be hidden: garages, warehouses, unused factories.”
“Right, Chief,” said Brother. “We’ll go get Lizzy and Cousin Fred right away. And we’ll make Barry an honorary Bear Detective for the day. His car knowledge might help us solve the case.”
Chapter 7
Se
arching for Clues
The Bear Detectives added Bonnie Brown to their group—that was Brother’s idea, of course—and headed for Ralph Ripoff’s houseboat. The chauffeur parked the limo at the edge of the woods, and the cubs went the rest of the way on foot.
When the cubs told Ralph about the Great Car Robbery, his eyes grew wide. “No kidding?” he said. “That’s wonderful! Er … I mean, that’s terrible!”
It was obvious that Ralph knew nothing about the robbery. When Brother told him that Squire Grizzly had suspected him, he smiled. “Why, that’s a great compliment,” he said. “Make sure you thank the good squire for me. But I could never pull off a big operation like that. I can only admire it from afar.”
“That’s what Chief Bruno said,” Sister added.
Ralph looked a little hurt. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he muttered. “The chief never had any respect for my work.”
“Well, thanks for your time,” said Brother as the Bear Detectives left the houseboat. “Would you keep your ear to the ground and let us know if you hear anything?”
“Waste of time,” said Ralph. “It’s been my experience that the only thing you get from keeping your ear to the ground is a dirty ear.”
The Bear Detectives spent the rest of the day crisscrossing Beartown. Every time they found a likely spot to search, they parked the limo far away and walked the rest of the way to avoid suspicion. They searched every garage, warehouse, and abandoned factory they could find. But not a single stolen car turned up.
Finally, after their last warehouse search on the outskirts of town, they headed for home. Brother radioed Chief Bruno from the limo and told him that their search had failed. Just as Brother switched off the radio, Barry pointed to an open field and cried, “Stop the car!”
“What is it?” asked Brother.
“That old, empty barn over there in the field,” said Barry. “We haven’t searched it yet.
The Berenstain Bears and the Ghost of the Auto Graveyard Page 2
