Encyclopedia Brown and Dead Eagles

Table of Contents

 

Mario’s Restaurant was on Fourth Street. When the detectives arrived, only four tables were being used.

The detectives went to the take-out counter. While waiting to give their order, Encyclopedia had a chance to study the room.

“Something funny is going on here,” whispered Sally.

“I didn’t notice anything,” replied Encyclopedia. “What is it?”

Sally shrugged uneasily. “I’m not sure. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

A few minutes later, the woman in brown and the slender man stopped at the cash register. They paid their check and left.

The next to depart were the five telephone-company men. As they stopped to pay, a scream sounded from the rear of the restaurant.

“Trouble,” said one of the men. He dropped two bills hastily by the cash register. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Police! Call the police!” a woman screamed.

PUFFIN BOOKS

 

Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
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Registered Offices: Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
First published in the United States of America by Elsevier/Nelson Books,
a division of Elsevier-Dutton Publishing Company, Inc., 1975
Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2008

Text copyright © Donald J. Sobol, 1975 (Member of the Authors League of America, Inc.)

Illustrations copyright © Thomas Nelson Inc., 1975
All rights reserved

THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE ELSEVIER/NELSON BOOKS EDITION AS FOLLOWS:

Sobol, Donald J.
Encyclopedia Brown and the case of the dead eagles.
(Encyclopedia Brown Books)
Summary: The solutions to ten mysteries solved by Leroy “Encyclopedia’ Brown are given in
a separate section challenging the reader to match wits with the ten-year-old mastermind of
Idaville’s war on crime.

eISBN : 978-1-101-04236-6

[1. Mystery and detective stories] I. Shortall, Leonard W., illus. II. Title.
PZ7.S68524Eo [Fic] 75-15911

 

 

In all the world there was no place like Idaville, U.S.A.

Idaville looked like many other seaside towns. It had beautiful beaches, three movie theaters, and four banks. It had churches, synagogues, and two delicatessens.

What made Idaville different was a red brick house at 13 Rover Avenue. For there lived Encyclopedia Brown, America’s Sherlock Holmes in sneakers.

Because of Encyclopedia, no one in Idaville —child or grown-up—got away with breaking the law.

Encyclopedia’s father was chief of the Idaville police. People all over the world, including China, thought he was the smartest police chief in history.

Chief Brown knew better.

Whenever he came up against a case that no one on the force could crack, he put on his cap and went home to dinner. Before the meal was over, Encyclopedia had solved the case.

Chief Brown would have liked to shout from atop the stone heads carved into Mount Rush-more: “My son belongs here!” But what good would it do?

Who would believe him? Who would believe that the mastermind behind Idaville’s war on crime was ten years old?

So Chief Brown kept secret the help he got from his only child.

Encyclopedia never said a word, either. He didn’t want to seem different from other fifth graders.

But there was nothing he could do about his nickname. He was stuck with it.

Only his parents and his teachers called him by his real name, Leroy. Everyone else in Idaville called him Encyclopedia.

An encyclopedia is a book or set of books filled with all kinds of facts from A to Z—like Encyclopedia’s head. The boy detective had read more books than anyone in Idaville. When he breathed fast, his pals swore they could hear pages turning.

Encyclopedia’s quick mind was in demand wherever he went. Not only did he solve cases at the dinner table, but often he was called upon to clear up a mystery when he least expected.

Take, for example, the night he and Charlie Stewart were camping overnight in the state park. They had just pitched their tent when they heard a gunshot.

“Gosh,” exclaimed Charlie. “That wasn’t far away!”

Encyclopedia threw a log on the fire. He pretended that he hadn’t heard a thing.

“It can’t be a hunter,” reasoned Charlie. “Hunters aren’t allowed near the campgrounds.”

Encyclopedia slid a marshmallow onto a stick and turned it above the fire. Charlie stared at him in surprise and disappointment.

“Don’t you think we ought to do something?” Charlie said. “I mean, somebody might have been murdered.”

At times like this, Encyclopedia wished he had never become a private detective.

“Catching a murderer isn’t like recovering a stolen bike,” he said. “A murderer can stop a person’s growth in a terrible hurry.”

“But somebody might be hurt and need your help,” insisted Charlie.

Encyclopedia sighed. “All right, let’s go.”

The boys walked through the woods, following a path that led in the direction of the gunshot. After a quarter mile, they reached a clearing. At the far end was a cliff about forty feet high and seventy feet wide.

Encyclopedia suddenly stepped to the edge of the path. He dropped to one knee beside a golden eagle. It was dead.

“This explains the gunshot,” he said, feeling anger and sorrow over the senseless killing.

He looked about the clearing. The setting sun seemed to be resting atop the cliff. He had to shade his eyes before he saw the nest. It was in a cottonwood snag halfway up the cliff.

He pointed out the nest to Charlie. Then he said, “I’ll bet Mike Bailey is in the park.”

“What has Mike to do with the eagle?” said Charlie.

“Don’t you remember last year?” asked Encyclopedia.

A year ago, two golden eagles had built a nest in a cottonwood snag lower down on the same cliff. Soon afterward, both birds were shot during the night.

“About nine o’clock, an hour before the shooting, a scoutmaster noticed Mike Bailey standing on this path,” said Encyclopedia. “Mike carried a rifle.”

“The scoutmaster could have been mistaken,” said Charlie. “It was dark.”

“No, there was enough light,” replied Encyclopedia. “The moon was full.”

Charlie scratched his head. “I wonder about that new nest,” he said softly. He walked to the cliff and inched his way up. After a hard struggle, he got his chin above the nest.

“There are two eggs inside,” he called down.

The news made finding the mysterious hunter more important than ever. The eagle lying near the path was male. The shot that killed him probably had frightened off his mate. Once she recovered, she would return to hatch the eggs.

“We’ve got to find the hunter before he shoots the mother eagle, too,” said Encyclopedia.

The boys had only one lead—Mike Bailey. He was sixteen and rode a motorcycle. It was dark when they found him at campsite 32.

He had pitched his tent and was reading a hot-rod magazine by the light of the kerosine lamp. Encyclopedia made out a green motorcycle behind the tent. A rifle lay against the black leather seat.

“Going hunting tonight? ” inquired Encyclopedia.

“Naw, I just keep the gun handy,” said Mike. “I might see a rattlesnake.”

“I don’t like guns,” said Charlie. “Hunting is cruel unless you need food. And killing wildlife for fun is like murder.”