The Lost Treasure of Tuckernuck (21 page)

“We're never getting in there,” Bud said from his watch point outside Principal Winkle's office. “Security in that office is tighter than a fortress. Even if we could get inside, he never leaves. What's up with that?”

Laurie nodded in agreement. “It's like he's not even human. Did I tell you how long I spent on those whole-wheat bars? And he didn't touch one!”

Laurie had come up with the bright idea of baking chocolate chip cookies and putting them out on the common area table. But since cookies were still on the school's official banned junk food list, she'd had to go with her backup—whole-wheat raisin bars. Principal Winkle hadn't even taken one, not even when Laurie had used her tiny battery-operated fan to make the fumes of wheaty goodness waft into his office. He'd just taken an apple out of a bowl on his desk and closed the door.

“More gerbil business, you two? Maybe you better fill me in.” Calliope Judkin squatted down next to them. Laurie started. Seriously, if anyone was in the running for the witch label, it was Calliope. She'd been popping up out of nowhere lately.

“Nothing to worry about,” Bud said gruffly. Calliope was going to be a problem. He was going to have to come up with a way to let her down gently.

“Well, as Gerbil Monitor Number Three, I need to know.” Calliope smiled.

“We'll fill you in on official gerbil business on Monday,” Laurie said, scowling.

Calliope smiled again. “You better, or Mrs. Hutchins might dock your grade.” She sauntered away, looking very pleased with herself.

Bud rolled his eyes at Laurie. “Well, Monday's sure going to stink,” he said.

Laurie gave him an evil grin. “Maybe. But today is going to be awesome. Come on, we've got important gerbil business.”

Ponch and Jon were enthusiastic about their part in the mission. At least Laurie thought they were. She'd told them about it, but since they were rodents there was a good chance they didn't quite understand their role. But they definitely knew something was up and were raring to go.

Laurie went over her checklist one last time.

“Okay, reconnaissance. You're sure we're good there?” That was the thing Laurie was most concerned about. Ponch and Jon were essential to the plan, but there was no way she was going ahead with it if they might get hurt somehow.

“Check.” Bud had personally scoped out the area around Principal Winkle's office between classes. No niches or crevices, and no rogue exit routes that would endanger the tiny fighting duo. If Bud calculated correctly, it was pretty much a straight shot, in and out, no complications. The big risk was if Principal Winkle took a moment to realize how unlikely the whole scenario was. But given the way things went at this school, Bud didn't think that was going to be an issue.

Laurie grabbed Ponch (or Jon) and Bud grabbed Jon (or Ponch) and they headed out into the hallway, nervously checking the emptying hallways. They'd decided to go for maximum impact with a minimum of witnesses. And that meant putting the plan into motion between the final bell and the late bell.

“Is he in there?” Laurie peered around the corner at Principal Winkle's office.

“He's in there,” Bud said.

“Then let's go.” Laurie could tell Ponch (or Jon) was getting pretty impatient and wanted to get the show on the road. Besides, her hand was starting to sweat, and his fur was getting matted and clumpy. Not a good look for a gerbil.

“Now!” Bud rushed forward with Jon (or Ponch) and ducked down beside Principal Winkle's office. Laurie did the same thing on the other side of the door. And then, simultaneously, they opened their fists.

Ponch and Jon couldn't believe their good luck. Not only were they out of the cage, they were in an exciting new locale that smelled like a tantalizing mixture of fruit and chocolate. This was obviously the place to be. They couldn't believe they'd never checked it out before.

Without hesitating, both of the gerbils rushed into Principal Winkle's office.

“Wait for it,” Bud whispered. They had to give the gerbils enough time, or the whole thing would be for nothing. He knew he could count on those two to work fast, though.

It took even less time than he thought.

“What the—
whaAAAAAhhh!
” If Principal Winkle's scream had been any higher, only dogs would've been able to hear it. As it was, Laurie and Bud recognized their cue and sprang into action.

“Ponch? Jon? Where are you? Oh, no!” Laurie rushed into Principal Winkle's office, doing her best to look panicky and out of breath.

Bud slammed into her from behind, totally knocking the wind out of her and making them look like bumbling incompetents. Laurie felt like high-fiving him. It was just the impression they were going for.

“Did two gerbils come in here, Principal Winkle?” Laurie said, pretending to scan the room. Like she couldn't see Ponch (or Jon) totally scarfing down a cupcake wrapper that had missed the trash can by a couple of inches. The trash can right next to the ancient-looking carved clock.

“I … I believe … there are … they … YES!” Principal Winkle looked freaked out and ready to jump onto his chair. Which would've been pretty funny, but it wasn't what they were going for.

“They got loose again,” Laurie said apologetically. “We couldn't stop them.”

“Maybe you could go outside?” Bud said, watching Jon (or Ponch) quietly sidling up to Principal Winkle's foot. Principal Winkle didn't seem to be aware of him yet. “We'll catch them.”

Principal Winkle nodded. “That's good, kids, catch them. Just close the door, why don't you? That way they can't get out.”

Laurie suppressed a grin. This was going just the way they'd hoped. She and Bud waited expectantly for Principal Winkle to leave. But he just kept standing in a half crouch behind his desk.

Finally Bud cleared his throat. “So are you … uh … going into the hall now?”

Principal Winkle waved his hand at Bud. “Just close the door, I'll be fine. We don't want them to …
aaaahh!
” Principal Winkle made the leap from floor to desk chair as he noticed Jon (or Ponch) doing a taste test on his shoe leather.

Laurie gritted her teeth. She was so close to the clock she could've grabbed it and stuffed it under her shirt. Except (a) it was a grandfather clock and way too big to fit under a shirt, and (b) Winkle would totally see her do it. It was time for a new plan.

“There's one!” Laurie said, suddenly pretending to notice Ponch (or Jon) and his half-eaten cupcake wrapper. She made a clumsy dive for the surprised rodent, who gave her a panicked glare (since lunging was not in the plan she'd described to him earlier) and tried to decide whether to feint to the right or to the left or just go for the jugular.

“Shoot, missed him,” Laurie said loudly, hoping nobody noticed the angry and freaked out rodent that she'd scooped up and who was currently having a hissy fit in her fist. “What's that one doing?” she asked, pointing at Jon (or Ponch), who was currently wondering why Principal Winkle had shot upward so quickly, taking his tasty footwear with him.

Then, when both Bud and Principal Winkle were distracted and looking at the floor, she chucked Ponch (or Jon) onto the desk. “Wow, did you see that jump?” Laurie gasped.

Principal Winkle looked up. “What jum—
aiiieee!
”

Ponch (or Jon) was definitely working his heart out. Finding himself suddenly on Principal Winkle's day planner, he did what any normal red-blooded gerbil would do. After doing a quick surveillance scan, he (a) relieved himself, (b) made his scariest face at Principal Winkle, and (c) attacked a nearby Milky Way bar.

Principal Winkle screamed again and leaped for the door. “I'll be outside I have an important—just catch them!”

He dragged the door shut behind him.

Laurie and Bud didn't waste any time. “Get the clock!” Laurie said, gracefully scooping up Ponch (or Jon) with one hand without disturbing his day-planner leavings.

Bud gave the clock a quick once-over. It was an ornately carved grandfather-type clock, tall, with dark wood and, most importantly, a long door on the front. Bud hoped the clue was in there, because there was nothing obvious carved on the paneling or on the face of the clock. No saying, no letters, nothing.

He grabbed the tiny latch and opened the door just as Laurie scooped up a squirmy Jon (or Ponch) from where he'd just discovered the uneaten remains of the cupcake wrapper.

“Is it in there?” she whispered.

Bud scanned the inside of the clock. There was a shallow shelf that was empty except for the clock's winding key, and that was it. Bud felt like he was going to throw up. This couldn't all be for nothing.

“Nothing?” Laurie gasped. “Are you kidding?”

Bud couldn't say anything. There had to be something. He squatted down to inspect the inside of the clock, looking for some sign of a fake wall or a secret door. And that's when he noticed the envelope.

“There it is! It has to be!” From above, the envelope was completely hidden, but from his position on the floor, Bud could see an ancient-looking manila envelope carefully taped under the shallow shelf.

“Get it!” Laurie hissed, watching the door. “Hurry up!”

Bud grabbed the envelope and stuffed it into the waistband in the back of his pants just as the door opened a crack.

Principal Winkle peeked in. “All good?” he said. He sounded like he'd just realized how embarrassing it was to be chased out of his office by two tiny classroom pets.

“All good,” Laurie said, blocking Bud from view as he closed the clock door. “We got 'em.” She held up Ponch and Jon. “Sorry about that.”

Principal Winkle sighed and opened the door fully. “Good, good. Now don't let those two escape like that again. They could get hurt. I don't want to see them back in here.”

He looked around nervously, like he was afraid Ponch and Jon had given off baby-gerbil spores in the few moments they'd spent in his office.

“Don't worry.” Bud grinned. “You won't see us back in here.”

EMAIL

FROM: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE, Tuckernuck Hall

TO: OLIVIA HUTCHINS

SUBJECT: Surprise Visit

Olivia,

I saw your furry classroom friends today, and they seemed remarkably fit and healthy. Quite the jumpers, aren't they? Do you think they might have outgrown their cage, though? Do you need a larger, more secure area for them, perhaps? Just want to keep the little guys happy and, most importantly, secure.

Thanks,

Marty

EMAIL

FROM: OLIVIA HUTCHINS:

TO: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE, Tuckernuck Hall

SUBJECT: Two Very Happy Gerbils!

Marty—

I didn't realize you had stopped by! Ponch and Jon would love that. They are very active and would enjoy more space to play. I've attached a link to the Deluxe Gerbil Playhouse in the latest Rodent Paradise catalog.

Thanks for thinking of us!

Olivia

Once Laurie and Bud had returned the exhausted and well-fed gerbil friends to their cage, they turned to the envelope.

Bud pulled the slightly crumpled envelope from the waistband of his pants and looked at Laurie for a second. “You realize Principal Winkle had candy in his office, don't you? That's got to be a violation of some kind.”

Laurie rolled her eyes at him. “We'll deal with that later. Now open the stinking envelope!”

Bud smiled and slowly untwined the long, looping string holding the envelope flap down. Laurie sighed. He was really milking it for all it was worth.

Finally the flap came loose, and Bud slid the papers out onto the desk. It was a letter, and with it came an elaborate paper cutout letter L.

“It looks like a doily,” Laurie said, her fingers hovering near the intricate edges of the L.

“And it's an L,” Bud nodded. So that means …”

“That means we still have more clues to find. Because I HAD L doesn't make any sense.” Laurie didn't want to waste any time.