Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  The Case of Natty Nat

  The Case of the Scattered Cards

  The Case of the Civil War Sword

  The Case of Merko’s Grandson

  The Case of the Bank Robber

  The Case of the Happy Nephew

  The Case of the Diamond Necklace

  The Case of the Knife in the Watermelon

  The Case of the Missing Roller Skates

  The Case of the Champion Egg Spinner

  The confounding case of a missing diamond necklace

  “The necklace was stolen right under my nose!”

  “Mrs. Van Tweedle must have been afraid it might be stolen,” said Encyclopedia. “Was that why she asked you to guard it?”

  Chief Brown nodded. “She received an unsigned letter last week. It told her to put ten thousand dollars in cash behind the statue of George Washington in the park. If she refused to do this, her necklace would be stolen.”

  “Wow!” exclaimed Encyclopedia. “Is the necklace really worth ten thousand dollars?”

  “More,” said his father.

  “There is no time to lose. Her room must be searched before she gets back.”

  “Searched for what?” asked Chief Brown.

  “For the necklace,” said Encyclopedia. “And the gun.”

  Read all the Encyclopedia Brown Books

  No. 1: Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective

  No. 2: Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Secret Pitch

  No. 3: Encyclopedia Brown Finds the Clues

  No. 4: Encyclopedia Brown Gets His Man

  No. 5: Encyclopedia Brown Solves Them All

  No. 6: Encyclopedia Brown Keeps the Peace

  No. 7: Encyclopedia Brown Saves the Day

  No. 8: Encyclopedia Brown Tracks Them Down

  No. 9: Encyclopedia Brown Shows the Way

  No. 10: Encyclopedia Brown Takes the Case

  No. 11: Encyclopedia Brown Lends a Hand

  No. 12: Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Dead Eagles

  No. 13: Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Midnight Visitor

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

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  Registered Offices: Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England

  First published in the United States of America by Dutton Children’s Books,

  a division of Penguin Young Readers Group

  Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2007

  9 10

  Copyright © Donald J. Sobol, 1963

  All rights reserved

  Library of Congress Catalog Card number: 63-9632

  eISBN : 978-1-101-00711-2

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Ben and Julie Sobol

  The Case of Natty Nat

  Mr. and Mrs. Brown had one child. They called him Leroy, and so did his teachers.

  Everyone else in Idaville called him Encyclopedia.

  An encyclopedia is a book or a set of books giving information, arranged alphabetically, on all branches of knowledge.

  Leroy Brown’s head was like an encyclopedia. It was filled with facts he had learned from books. He was like a complete library walking around in sneakers.

  Old ladies who did crossword puzzles were always stopping him on the street to ask him questions.

  Just last Sunday, after church, Mrs. Conway, the butcher’s wife, had asked him: “What is a three-letter word for a Swiss river beginning with A?”

  “Aar,” Encyclopedia answered after a moment.

  He always waited a moment. He wanted to be helpful. But he was afraid that people might not like him if he answered their questions too quickly and sounded too smart.

  His father asked him more questions than anyone else. Mr. Brown was the chief of police of Idaville.

  The town had four banks, three movie theaters, and a Little League. It had the usual number of gasoline stations, churches, schools, stores, and comfortable houses on shady streets. It even had a mansion or two, and some dingy sections. And it had the average number of crimes for a community of its size.

  Idaville, however, only looked like the usual American town. It was, really, most unusual.

  For nearly a whole year no criminal had escaped arrest and no boy or girl had got away with breaking a single law in Idaville.

  This was partly because the town’s policemen were clever and brave. But mostly it was because Chief Brown was Encyclopedia’s father.

  His hardest cases were solved by Encyclopedia during dinner in the Browns’ red brick house on Rover Avenue.

  Everyone in the state thought that Idaville had about the smartest policemen in the world.

  Of course, nobody knew a boy was the master-mind behind the town’s police force.

  You wouldn’t guess it by looking at Encyclopedia. He looked like almost any fifth-grade boy and acted like one, too—except that he never talked about himself.

  Mr. Brown never said a word about the advice his son gave him. Who would believe that his best detective was only ten years old?

  This is how it began:

  One evening at dinner, Mr. Brown said, “Natty Nat has struck again. He has held up another store—and right here in Idaville.”

  “What store, Dad?” asked Encyclopedia.

  “The Men’s Shop, owned by Mr. Dillon and Mr. Jones,” answered Mr. Brown. “That makes six stores Natty Nat has held up in the state this month.”

  “Are you sure the robber was Natty Nat?” asked Encyclopedia.

  “Mr. Dillon himself said it was Natty Nat,” replied Mr. Brown.

  He pulled a notebook from his pocket and put it beside his plate. “I wrote down everything Mr. Dillon told me about the holdup. I’ll read it to you.”

  Encyclopedia closed his eyes. He always closed his eyes when he was getting ready to think hard.

  His father began to read what Mr. Dillon, the storekeeper, had told him about the holdup:

  I was alone in the store. I did not know anyone had come in. Suddenly a man’s voice told me to raise my hands. I looked up then. I was face to face with the man the newspapers call Natty Nat. He had on a gray coat with a belt in the back, just as the newspapers said. He told me to turn and face the wall. Since he had a gun, I did as he said. When I turned around again, he was gone-with all the money.

  Chief Brown finished reading and closed his notebook.

  Encyclopedia asked only one question: “Did the newspapers ever print a picture of
Natty Nat?”

  “No,” answered his father. “He never stands still long enough for a picture to be taken. Remember, he’s never been caught. But every policeman in the state knows he always wears that gray coat with the belt in the back.”

  “Nobody even knows his real name,” said Encyclopedia, half to himself. “Natty Nat is just what the newspapers call him.”

  Suddenly he opened his eyes. “Say, the only reason Mr. Dillon thought it was Natty Nat was because of that gray coat!” he said. “The case is solved!”

  “There is nothing to solve,” objected Chief Brown. “There is no mystery. Mr. Dillon was robbed. The holdup man was the same one who has been robbing other stores in the state.”

  “Not quite,” said Encyclopedia. “There was no holdup at The Men’s Shop.”

  “What do you mean?” exclaimed Mr. Brown.

  “I mean Mr. Dillon wasn’t robbed, Dad. He lied from beginning to end,” answered Encyclopedia.

  “Why should Mr. Dillon lie?” demanded his father.

  “I guess he spent the money. He didn’t want his partner, Mr. Jones, to know it was missing,” said Encyclopedia. “So Mr. Dillon said he was robbed.”

  “Leroy,” said his mother, “please explain what you are saying.”

  “It’s simple, Mom,” said Encyclopedia. “Mr. Dillon read all about Natty Nat in the newspapers . So he knew Natty Nat always wore a gray coat with a belt in the back when he held up stores.”

  “Go on, Leroy,” said Mr. Brown.

  “Go on, Leroy,” said Mr. Brown, leaning forward.

  “Mr. Dillon knew it would sound much better if he could blame his holdup on someone people have read about,” said Encyclopedia. “He said he knew it was Natty Nat because of the coat he wore—”

  “That could be true,” Chief Brown said.

  “That couldn’t be true,” said Encyclopedia. “Mr. Dillon never saw the back of the man who held him up. He said so himself. Remember?”

  Chief Brown frowned. He picked up his notebook again. He read to himself a while.

  Then he fairly shouted, “Leroy, I believe you are right!”

  Encyclopedia said, “Mr. Dillon only saw the front of the holdup man. He had no way of knowing that the man’s coat had a belt in the back!”

  “He stole money from his own store and from his partner too,” cried Chief Brown. “And he nearly got away with it!”

  He rushed from the dining room.

  “Leroy,” said Mrs. Brown, “did you get this idea from a television program?”

  “No,” said Encyclopedia. “I got it from a book I read about a great detective and his methods of observation.”

  “Well,” said his mother proudly, “this proves how important it is to listen carefully and watch closely, to train your memory. Perhaps you will be a detective when you grow up.”

  “Mom,” said Encyclopedia, “can I have another piece of pie?”

  Mrs. Brown sighed. She had taught English in the Idaville High School before her marriage. “You may have another piece of pie,” she said.

  The Case of the Scattered Cards

  At nine o’lock that night Encyclopedia climbed into bed. He lay awake a long time. He thought over what his mother had said to him about being a detective when he grew up.

  In the morning he made up his mind.

  He would go into the detective business and help people. He wouldn’t wait until he grew up. It was summer and school was out. He could begin at once.

  Encyclopedia got out of bed and searched through his closet. He dug out a toy printing press, a Christmas gift from his Uncle Ben two years ago.

  As soon as Encyclopedia finished breakfast, he printed fifty handbills. When the ink was dry, he put the handbills in all the mailboxes in the neighborhood.

  Then he went home and asked his mother for a big piece of cardboard. She gave him a dress box from the Bon Ton Store, which she had been saving. Encyclopedia borrowed the kitchen shears and cut out a square piece of cardboard. He took a black crayon and carefully lettered a sign.

  The handbills and the sign said:

  Encyclopedia nailed the sign on the door of the Browns’ garage.

  The next morning he sat in the garage, waiting for somebody with a problem to drop in. Nobody dropped in. Only the rain. The roof of the garage had a hole in it.

  Rain fell all morning, all afternoon, and all the next day.

  Encyclopedia stared at the rain and felt lower than a submarine’s bottom. He thought about taking down the sign and going to see what new teeth Charlie Stewart had added to his collection. Or maybe digging for worms with Billy and Jody Turner and fishing off the bridge at Mill Creek.

  Suddenly a pair of rubbers and a raincoat appeared in the doorway. Inside them was a small boy.

  “My name is Clarence Smith,” said the boy. “I need your help.”

  “No case is too small,” said Encyclopedia. “Is it murder?”

  “No—” said Clarence, backing away.

  “Kidnapping?” asked Encyclopedia. “Blackmail?”

  “No—no,” said Clarence weakly. “It’s a tent.”

  He placed a quarter on the gasoline can beside Encyclopedia. “The tent is mine. But the Tigers say it’s theirs.”

  “You are having trouble with talking tigers?” Encyclopedia asked.

  “Oh, no,” replied Clarence. “Tigers—that’s the name of a boys’ club near the canal. The boys are plenty tough, all of them. But their leader, Bugs Meany, is the toughest one.”

  “Take me to their leader,” commanded Encyclopedia, “and to your tent.”

  “I’ll do both,” said Clarence. “Bugs Meany is sitting in the tent this very minute.”

  After a short walk, the two boys came to the tent. It stood in the woods between the canal and the Pierce Junk Yard.

  Six older boys were sitting around a wooden box inside the tent. They were playing cards.

  “Which one of you is Bugs Meany?” asked Encyclopedia.

  “Me,” said the biggest and dirtiest boy. “What’s it to you?”

  “You are in my tent,” squeaked Clarence. “I found it. I mended all the holes in it.”

  “Scram!” growled Bugs.

  “You know I found the tent in the junk yard,” said Clarence. “You watched me put it up here last week.”

  “Get going,” said Bugs. “I saw you steal it from our clubhouse this morning.”

  “Mind if I come in out of the rain?” Encyclopedia asked. As he ducked inside the tent, one of his feet hit an extra pack of cards lying beside the wooden box. The cards were scattered over the ground.

  “Hey! What’s the big idea?” said Bugs.

  “The idea is a simple one,” said the private detective. “See these cards? They are dry and not the least bit muddy, though I scattered them over the ground. Clarence didn’t steal this tent from your clubhouse.”

  Bugs closed his hands into fists. His chin sprang out like the drawer of a cash register. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “Which one of you is Bugs Meany?”

  “Of course not,” said Encyclopedia. “I’m simply going to tell you what I’ll tell the police.”

  Encyclopedia spoke quietly into the older boy’s right ear. Bugs listened. His face grew red, and then redder.

  Suddenly he called, “Come on, Tigers! Let’s get back to the clubhouse. It’s no fun here.”

  When the Tigers had left, Clarence said to Encyclopedia, “Gosh, what did you say to Bugs?”

  Encyclopedia smiled. “I pointed out why you couldn’t have stolen the tent from the Tigers’ clubhouse.”

  HOW DID ENCYCLOPEDIA KNOW THIS?

  The Case of the Civil War Sword

  A boy with red hair stopped in the doorway of the Brown Detective Agency.

  “Are you any good at swords?” he asked.

  Encyclopedia did not lift his eyes from his book, How to Build a Nuclear Reactor.

  “What kind of a game is swords?” he asked.

&n
bsp; “It isn’t a game,” said the red-haired boy. “My name is Peter Clinton. I want to hire you.”

  Peter put two dimes and a nickel on the gasoline can beside Encyclopedia.

  The coins clinked. Encyclopedia stopped reading. He looked up, very businesslike.

  “How can I help you?” he asked.

  “I have a chance to trade my bicycle for a sword,” said Peter. “I want to make sure the sword is real.”

  “You don’t think the sword is really a sword?” said Encyclopedia. “What do you think it is?”

  “That isn’t what I mean,” Peter said. “It’s a sword from the Civil War—”

  “There are thousands of swords left over from the Civil War,” said Encyclopedia.

  “I know,” said Peter. “But how many belonged to General Jackson?”

  “Stonewall Jackson?” gasped Encyclopedia. “The great Southern general?”

  “This sword is supposed to have belonged to Stonewall Jackson,” said Peter. “Bugs Meany says so.”

  “Bugs?” Encyclopedia straightened up at the name. “You want me to make sure the sword really did belong to Stonewall Jackson?”

  “Yes,” said Peter. “Then you’ll take the case?”

  “I’ll take it,” said Encyclopedia. “If Bugs is behind the trade, you’ll need help.”

  Peter led the private detective to the Tigers’ clubhouse, an unused tool shed behind Mr. Sweeny’s Auto Body Shop. The Tigers were busy racing garter snakes.

  “The sword is worth ten bikes like mine.”

  Bugs made a face when he saw Encyclopedia.

  “So Mr. Brains is now a Civil War know-it- all,” said the Tigers’ leader. “Well, well! Maybe you can tell me what Stonewall Jackson did at the Battle of Bull Run.”

  “Which battle at Bull Run?” asked Encyclopedia. “There were two—one in 1861, the other in 1862.”

  “Good for you,” said Bugs, grinning. “Now don’t say this sword isn’t the real thing.”

  Encyclopedia walked to the table on which the sword lay.