Also by David A. Kelly
BALLPARK MYSTERIES®
#1 The Fenway Foul-Up
#2 The Pinstripe Ghost
#3 The L.A. Dodger
#4 The Astro Outlaw
#5 The All-Star Joker
#6 The Wrigley Riddle
#7 The San Francisco Splash
#8 The Missing Marlin
#9 The Philly Fake
#10 The Rookie Blue Jay
#11 The Tiger Troubles
#12 The Rangers Rustlers
#13 The Capital Catch
#14 The Cardinals Caper
SUPER SPECIAL #1 The World Series Curse
SUPER SPECIAL #2 Christmas in Cooperstown
SUPER SPECIAL #3 Subway Series Surprise
THE MVP SERIES
#1 The Gold Medal Mess
#2 The Soccer Surprise
#3 The Football Fumble
#4 The Basketball Blowout
Babe Ruth and the Baseball Curse
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2019 by David A. Kelly
Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2019 by Mark Meyers
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC. Ballpark Mysteries® is a registered trademark of Upside Research, Inc.
Visit us on the Web!
rhcbooks.com
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kelly, David A., author. | Meyers, Mark, illustrator.
Title: The Baltimore bandit / by David A. Kelly ; illustrated by Mark Meyers.
Description: First edition. | New York: Random House, 2019. | Series: Ballpark mysteries ; 15 | “A Stepping Stone book.” | Summary: Babe Ruth’s baseball glove goes missing before a Baltimore Orioles game. It’s up to cousins Mike and Kate to find its whereabouts.”—Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018010433 | ISBN 978-1-5247-6754-9 (trade) | ISBN 978-1-5247-6755-6 (lib. bdg.) | ISBN 978-1-5247-6756-3 (ebook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Baltimore Orioles (Baseball team)—Fiction. | Baseball—Fiction. | Cousins—Fiction. | Stealing—Fiction. | Baltimore (Md.)—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.K2936 Ban 2019 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
Ebook ISBN 9781524767563
This book has been officially leveled by using the F&P Text Level Gradient™ Leveling System.
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v5.4
a
This book is dedicated to Alison Kolani and all the other great copy editors at Random House who have saved me from countless embarrassments by finding mistakes and problems in all my Ballpark Mysteries and MVP books. The key to a good book is great editors. Thank you!
—D.A.K.
“You could be a kid for as long as you want when you play baseball.”
—Cal Ripken Jr., Baltimore Orioles shortstop and third baseman, 1981–2001
Contents
Cover
Also by David A. Kelly
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1: A Golden Slide
Chapter 2: A Birdman in Birdland
Chapter 3: Hot Flapjacks
Chapter 4: A Flappy Clue?
Chapter 5: Captured!
Chapter 6: Hello? We Have a Clue!
Chapter 7: Don’t Be Crabby!
Chapter 8: I’ll Catch That Pizza
Chapter 9: A Pitch Babe Ruth Would Be Proud Of!
Chapter 10: Catching Like the Babe!
Dugout Notes Baltimore Orioles
“POW!” Mike Walsh said as he swung an imaginary bat. “Babe Ruth blasts a home run in Baltimore!”
Mike’s cousin Kate Hopkins watched his pretend baseball fly over the Orioles’ outfield. “UH-OH! CRASH!” she said in an announcer’s voice. “He’s the first player to hit a window on the big brick warehouse across the street!”
It was late on a Sunday afternoon, and Mike and Kate were waiting in line to run the bases after a Baltimore Orioles game.
“Well then, maybe I hit it!” Mike said.
“And if you hit it, you’ll have to pay for the broken window!” Kate said.
Mike shrugged. “Okay, I guess I’ll let Babe Ruth take that one,” he said. “But he can’t have pancakes with Flaps!”
Mike and Kate had come to Baltimore with Kate’s mom, Laura Hopkins. She was a sports reporter for American Sportz. She had arranged for Mike and Kate to meet the Orioles star pitcher Flaps Palmer the following day for a pregame meal. Flaps was superstitious. Before each game he pitched, he insisted on having flapjacks for good luck.
“I might not be able to hit as well as Babe Ruth,” Mike said. “But I’ll bet I can keep up with Flaps when it comes to eating pancakes!”
Kate nodded. “When it comes to pancakes, you could keep up with a vacuum cleaner!”
Mike smiled. “Yes, but I’d enjoy them more than the vacuum would!”
Mrs. Hopkins and the kids had arrived earlier that day from their home in Cooperstown, New York. They had watched the Sunday-afternoon Orioles game at Oriole Park at Camden Yards. They also had front-row seats near the dugout for the next day’s game against the Seattle Mariners.
Mike pointed to a long, eight-story brick warehouse behind the Orioles’ outfield. “Actually, I don’t think Babe Ruth could have hit one of the windows in that warehouse,” he said.
“Why not?” Kate asked.
“Because back then, the Orioles played in a different stadium,” Mike said. “Also, even though he was born right near here, Babe Ruth was traded from the Orioles to the Boston Red Sox halfway through his first season. Back then, he was a pitcher, just like Flaps.”
“I’ll bet that’s why Flaps is crazy about Babe Ruth,” Kate said. “At the ceremony before the game, they said Flaps is a huge fan!”
During the ceremony, a valuable baseball glove that Babe Ruth once owned had been unveiled. It was an old, flat, brown glove, but it was worth over $250,000! The Orioles were going to put it on display in a room near the gift shop for the first time before the next day’s game.
“Hey, look—it’s our turn!” Kate said. “We’re going to run the bases at a major-league stadium!”
“I know!” Mike said. “This is awesome!” He high-fived Kate.
A man standing in front of the Orioles’ dugout motioned for Mike and Kate to head to the batter’s box. He wore a black-and-orange Orioles jersey and had a big bushy beard. On his baseball cap was an image of a large white crab.
Before Mike and Kate reached home plate, they heard the first few bars of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” The man held up his hand to motion for Mike and Kate to stop. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, which played the song as its ringtone.
The man answered the phone. While he talked, Mike pulled a tennis ball out of the pocket in his shorts and tossed it to Kate. They played
catch until the man hung up. He waved at Mike and Kate and pointed at home plate. Mike slipped the ball back into his pocket, and they ran over.
“Ready to run the bases like a Baltimore Oriole?” he asked. “Are you two doing this together?”
Kate nodded.
“Stand in the batter’s box,” he said. “Take off when I say ‘Go!’”
Kate and Mike crouched down, ready to run.
“Five, four, three, two, one…GO!” the man shouted.
Mike and Kate took off like a shot. Kate seized an early lead as she and Mike raced for first base.
“Mike Walsh has ripped another line drive deep to center field,” Mike called as he ran. “It’s another amazing hit by this young superstar.”
Kate’s foot touched first base just before Mike’s. They headed to second.
“Mike Walsh is tearing up the base paths today!” Mike yelled. He pulled a step ahead of Kate.
A small cloud of dust rose behind them as they rounded second. Kate seemed to find extra power and shot ahead again, but Mike caught up near third. They thundered down on third base and headed for home.
“It looks like it will be close!” Mike called out. “Will Mike Walsh beat the throw? I think he will!”
Kate zoomed toward home plate. She was a step ahead of Mike.
Mike made a split-second decision to slide. His heel hit the white rubber edge of home plate just as Kate’s right foot landed squarely in the center of the plate.
“Home run!” she cried. “I win!”
Mike slid across home plate, leaving a trail of dust behind him.
“No way!” Mike said as he stood up. “My foot touched first. I won!”
“No, I won!” Kate said.
“Let’s ask your mom,” Mike said. Mrs. Hopkins had been standing just behind home plate, watching them. “Who won, Aunt Laura?”
“It was very close,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “It’s possible that Kate’s foot landed first. You were behind her, Mike.”
Mike held up his hands. “I know!” he said. “That’s why I was sliding!”
Mike pointed to the far side of the plate. “I started sliding right over there, and my foot crossed…,” he said.
Kate and Mrs. Hopkins waited for Mike to finish his thought, but he didn’t. Instead, he scuffed at the dirt in the batter’s box with the tip of his sneaker.
“Mike? Is something wrong?” Mrs. Hopkins asked.
Mike ignored them. He dropped to the ground, dug with his fingers, and then tugged something from the dirt.
Sunlight sparkled off a shiny gold coin.
“Look what I found,” Mike said. “Buried treasure!”
“Buried treasure?” Kate asked. “In Camden Yards?”
Kate ran over to Mike and studied the gold coin. It was a little bit bigger than a quarter, and it had a picture of Babe Ruth on the front and the words Babe Ruth #1 on the back. “Why would someone bury treasure under home plate?” she asked.
Mike smiled. He took the coin back from Kate and slipped it into his pocket. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe it’s my reward for winning the race!”
“I don’t know about that,” Kate said. “I’m not even sure you won the race!”
Mike sighed. “We can have a do-over at home,” he said. “It would be fun to keep the coin, but I should probably turn it in to the Orioles. Maybe I’ll get a big reward!”
“That’s a great idea, Mike,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “You can turn it in tomorrow at the lost-and-found office before your pancakes with Flaps!”
* * *
—
Mike knocked on the door labeled LOST AND FOUND. It was just after noon the next day. The office was in the big brick warehouse behind the Orioles’ outfield. The game was going to start in a little over an hour, and the stadium was starting to fill with fans. Mrs. Hopkins had gone up to the pressroom to work.
Kate peeked through the window in the door. “I don’t think anyone is there yet,” she said. “It doesn’t even look like there’s a light on.”
Mike slipped the coin back into his pocket. “Well, I guess I get to keep it for a little while longer,” he said. “I sure hope there’s a reward for finding real gold coins!”
“Real gold! Real gold!” a voice squawked from behind them.
Mike and Kate spun around. Standing behind them was a man with an orange-and-black bird on his shoulder! The man was wearing an Orioles jersey and baseball cap.
“Real gold!” the bird squawked again.
Kate leaned forward to get a better look at the bird and the man. “Hey, orioles can’t talk!” she said.
The bird bobbed its head. “Stolen base!” it squawked. “Stolen base!”
“Orioles are black and orange,” Kate said. “But that’s not an oriole! That’s a parrot dressed as an oriole!”
The bird’s bright green feathers were mostly hidden by a bird-size black-and-orange sweater.
The man tipped his cap back and squinted at Kate with one eye closed. He shook his head. “This is not a parrot,” he said. “It’s Edgar. Edgar’s an oriole!”
Kate watched the bird. It stepped back and forth on the man’s shoulder and tilted its head as it looked down at Mike and Kate.
“Aw! Double play! Double play!” the bird squawked. Then it whistled the opening notes to “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.”
“Hey, that’s new,” the man said. “He’s always picking up new tricks! He’s one smart oriole.”
Kate shook her head. “That’s no oriole,” she said again. “Orioles can’t talk!”
“Edgar can,” the man said. “You just heard him talk!”
“I know I heard him talk,” Kate said. “But that doesn’t mean he’s an oriole. Edgar’s a parrot. They can talk.”
The man shifted his weight to his other foot. He glanced at Edgar. He gave a shrug. “Well, maybe…,” he mumbled. “It doesn’t really matter what he is, as long as he’s an Orioles fan!”
“So are we!” Mike said. “That’s Kate, and I’m Mike. I know they call this stadium Birdland, so I guess we shouldn’t be surprised to find real birds here!”
The man held out his hand. “And I’m the Birdman,” he said. “My real name is Clinton Kelly. But everyone around here calls me Birdman because I bring Edgar to the games. He loves baseball, and he’s a fast learner. We have a stand down in the Kids’ Corner area of the ballpark. If you stop by during the game, you can have your picture taken with him for free!”
“Cool!” Kate said.
The man pointed at the door. “The lost and found doesn’t open until later,” he said. “Can I help you? Did you say you found something made of gold?”
Mike nodded. “I found a gold coin down on the field,” he said. “I’m hoping there’s a big reward for it.”
The man lifted an eyebrow and looked around. “Why don’t you give me the coin? I can turn it in for you when they open.”
The Birdman held out his hand.
“Real gold!” Edgar squawked.
“That’s okay,” Mike said. He nudged Kate to move along. “Thanks for the offer, Birdman. But we’re late for pancakes!”
The Birdman waved to them. “No problem,” he said. “See you at the Kids’ Corner!”
“What was up with him?” Kate asked. She and Mike had just turned the corner and were heading to meet Flaps for pancakes.
Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold coin. “I don’t know,” he said. “There’s no way I’m giving this to anyone but the lost-and-found people.”
They wound their way through the stadium to the lower level near the Orioles’ clubhouse. After a security guard checked for their names on a clipboard, he waved them past. “Head down that hallway,” he said. “Flaps will be in the second room on the left.”
Mike and Kate ran down th
e hallway. As soon as they entered the room, they could smell cinnamon and apples.
“Hey, you’re just in time,” said a tall, blond baseball player in full uniform. It was Flaps. “I’m glad your mom set this up. It’s fun to have fans like you join me for some flapjacks!”
Flaps was standing in front of a long table piled with pancakes, orange juice, and bacon. He lifted his head a little and sniffed. “Smells great, right?” he said. “I asked for apple-cinnamon flapjacks today!”
“We heard you really like flapjacks,” Mike said.
“Like them? I love them!” Flaps said. “Pancakes, wheat cakes, batter cakes, griddle cakes, johnnycakes, hotcakes, slapjacks, and flapjacks. Whatever you call them, I’ll eat them! And you should, too! Let’s dig in. They make them specially for me and anyone else on the team who wants them.”
Flaps motioned for Mike and Kate to take a seat at a table. A few of his teammates sat nearby. Flaps plunked down his long frame and drizzled maple syrup all over a tall pile of pancakes. He quickly took a forkful and wolfed it down.
“¡Guau, tantos panqueques!” Kate said. “That’s a lot of pancakes!” She was teaching herself Spanish. She liked to practice it whenever she had a chance.
“It sure is!” Flaps said with a grin.
As Kate and Mike filled their plates with pancakes and tried to keep up, Flaps pointed his fork at them.
“There’s only one thing I like more than flapjacks,” Flaps said. “And that’s Babe Ruth! He was a great hitter. But most people don’t know he started out as a great pitcher. I’ve always wanted to be as good a pitcher as the Babe.”
“And I always wanted to be as good a batter as the Babe,” Mike said.
“Just not in that charity baseball game in 1931 when a girl named Jackie Mitchell struck Ruth out,” Kate said. “And she was only seventeen years old! I’d like to be Jackie Mitchell!”
Ballpark Mysteries #15 Page 1
