“Sorry, Watch,” Benny said the next morning. “You can’t come with us this time.” He knelt down and gave their little dog a hug. “We might be gone all day.”
Henry petted Watch softly on the head. “We’ll take you for a walk after dinner, Watch,” he promised.
A few minutes later, the Aldens were riding towards the ballpark. It was a perfect day for a race—the sky was clear and the sun was shining.
The four children rode up and down the narrow alleyway behind the ballpark. They searched carefully for a clue. But after a while, they stopped and looked at one another in dismay.
“Well, I guess I was wrong,” Henry said. “And you know what that means.”
Jessie glanced over at him. “What?”
“We’ll have to search every alley in Greenfield,” Henry said.
No one said anything as they pedaled along. There was nothing to say. What could they do except check all over town? They couldn’t think of any other way to find the next clue.
All morning long, they rode their bikes up one alley and down another. Finally, Benny had a suggestion. “Maybe we should check the alley behind the diner,” he said, as they stopped to wait for a light to change. The youngest Alden wiggled his eyebrows, making everyone laugh.
“We get the hint, Benny,” said Henry. “Let’s get something to eat.”
It wasn’t long before they were settled into a booth at the diner. They each ordered the special—chicken burgers, salad, and lemonade. While they waited for their food to arrive, they talked about the race.
“I was so sure the riddle was leading us to the alley behind the ballpark,” said Henry.
“The clues added up,” Violet said with a nod.
“Wait a minute!” Henry suddenly had an idea that hadn’t occurred to him before. “I just thought of a sport with strikes in it.”
“We already figured that out, Henry,” Benny reminded him. “It’s baseball.”
Henry shook his head. “I think we got the wrong sport.”
“But, Henry,” Benny argued, “there are strikes in baseball.”
“Yes,” Henry agreed, “but there’s another sport with strikes in it, too. Come to think of it …” He paused to sort out his thoughts. “It’s a sport you play in an alley!”
“I’m not following, Henry,” said Jessie.
Violet looked just as puzzled as her sister. “A sport with strikes … that you play in an alley?”
“Oh!” said Jessie. “Bowling!”
“Oh, right!” Benny’s face lit up. “If you knock down all the bowling pins, it’s called a strike.”
“And the Greenfield Bowling Alley is just around the corner,” Violet said.
“We’ll check it out right after lunch,” said Jessie. She was handing everyone a napkin from the dispenser when something caught her eye. “Isn’t that Debra Belmont over there?”
Henry nodded. “And that’s Mike Devlin sitting across from her.”
The children didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But from where they were sitting, they couldn’t help hearing what the two people were talking about.
“But Mike,” Debra was saying, “when I first told you about the Great Detective Race, you said it was a cool idea.”
“Well, now I’m not so sure.” Mike did not sound very happy. “Why are so many kids signing up for this race? Will you please tell me that?”
“It’s summer vacation, Mike. I wanted the race to appeal to kids. They listen to our station, too.”
“Kids don’t listen to my show. My listeners are between the ages of twenty and fifty!” Mike was talking loudly now. “Or have you forgotten?”
“No, but …”
“No buts about it, Debra.” Mike got to his feet. “You just make sure the winner isn’t some kid!” With that, he stormed out of the diner.
As Debra hurried after the deejay, Violet turned to her sister and brothers. “I wonder what that was all about?” she whispered.
“Mike Devlin really can be difficult,” said Jessie, recalling Mr. Porter’s words.
Benny swallowed a bite of his burger. “I don’t think Mike likes kids.”
“Well, one thing’s for sure,” said Henry. “Mike doesn’t want anyone under the age of twenty to win the race.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” said Violet. “How can Debra make sure a kid doesn’t find the code word?”
Jessie took a sip of lemonade. “Let’s concentrate on one mystery at a time,” she suggested.
That did seem like a good idea. “The important thing right now,” said Henry, “is to find the code word.”
After finishing their lunch, the Aldens headed over to the Greenfield Bowling Alley. As they rounded the corner, Jessie looked back over her shoulder. Was somebody following them?
“What is it, Jessie?” Henry asked.
“I’m not sure,” said Jessie, keeping her voice low. She didn’t want to frighten Violet and Benny. “I just feel like somebody’s watching us.”
Henry looked behind them. But he didn’t see anybody.
“There’s nobody there now, Jessie,” he assured her.
“I’m probably just imagining things,” Jessie said, trying to make light of it. But something didn’t seem right.
As they stepped into the bowling alley, a man behind the shoe-rental counter looked up. When he recognized the Aldens, he smiled and waved. The children often bowled on the weekends with Grandfather.
“Hi, kids!” The man removed his wire-rimmed glasses, “I’ll get shoes for you.”
“Thanks anyway, Ron,” Henry told the owner of the Greenfield Bowling Alley. “We’re not here to bowl.”
Benny stepped up to the counter. “We listen to the Big G!”
“What can I do for you then?” Ron asked, as if he hadn’t even heard Benny’s remark.
“Would you mind if we look around?” Jessie asked.
“Oh, I get it,” Ron said, smiling. “You’re taking part in that race, aren’t you?”
Violet nodded. “The Great Detective Race.”
“We listen to the Big G!” Benny repeated, a little louder this time.
Ron gave the youngest Alden a puzzled look. “I heard you the first time, Benny,” he said. Then he added, “Look around all you want.”
It wasn’t long before Benny was tugging on his brother’s arm. “We’re wasting our time here,” he whispered.
Henry, who was checking out the bulletin board, looked over at her brother. “What makes you say that, Benny?” he wanted to know.
“I said the magic words twice and nothing happened.”
Henry nodded. “I know, but I still think we’re in the right place.”
“I think so, too,” said Jessie.
The Aldens went back to their search. But after a while, even Henry was having second thoughts.
“I haven’t seen anything that looks like a clue,” he told the others. “Have you?”
Jessie shook her head. “I don’t get it,” she said. “According to the riddle, it should be here.”
“I guess we’re on the wrong track again,” Benny said sadly.
As they headed for the door, Ron called out, “Why not have a practice game while you’re here. No charge.”
Benny broke into a big grin. “Really?”
“Sure!” Ron set their bowling shoes on top of the counter. “The lanes are empty anyway.”
“Thanks very much,” said Jessie.
The children put all thoughts of the race aside for a while as they took turns rolling balls along the lane. When Benny knocked down all the pins, Henry, Jessie, and Violet cheered for him. They cheered even louder when he got a second strike, and then a third.
“Way to go, Benny!” said Jessie. “That’s a record for you.”
Just then, a turkey suddenly flashed on an overhead screen. They all burst out laughing.
“What’s a—” Benny began to say, but Henry knew the question before his brother asked it.
“If you get three strikes in a row, it’s called a turkey,” he explained.
Jessie suddenly whirled around. A funny look came over her face. Then she clapped her hands and cried, “That’s it!”
“What’s it?” asked Violet.
“Remember the riddle?” Jessie said. “Make your way to an alley,/ that’s what you should do—”
“Three strikes in a row/ and you’ll find the next clue,” finished Violet, who knew the words by heart.
“And I got three strikes in a row,” said Benny, who still couldn’t get over it.
“Yes, you did,” Jessie said, giving her little brother a hug. “And we found the next clue!” She pointed to the turkey flashing on the screen.
“Our next clue is a turkey?” Benny echoed.
Violet giggled. “That’s a strange clue.”
“You can say that again!” Henry said. He was baffled. So were Violet and Benny.
But Jessie grinned. “I get it!” she said.
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