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    163 The Clues Challenge

    Page 9
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      “Phew!” Nancy's whole body went limp with relief.

      “Let's get out of here!” she mouthed to Ned.

      “Sorry to bother you, Dennis,” George said, out in

      the living room. “It's just that, well, all these fraterni-

      ties start to look the same after a while. Can you guys

      tell me which one is Omega?”

      Nancy didn't stick around to listen to the rest. She

      and Ned climbed outside, shut the window behind

      them, and waited in the shadows of the frat house until

      George rejoined them.

      The Omega Chi Epsilon frat house was just a few

      doors down Fraternity Row. When Nancy, George, and

      Ned got there, they saw C.J. just ahead of them.

      “Your ankle's better?” Ned asked.

      C.J. nodded, twirling his cane in the air. “My ankle

      doesn't hurt at all, and I don't need this anymore.”

      When they got inside, Grant was waiting for them in

      the common room—a large room with a fireplace and

      wood paneling.

      “Ready?” he said, holding up a slip of paper. “The

      clue's right here.”

      Nancy and Ned flopped down on the couch next to

      Grant, while C.J. and George settled into a couple of

      battered chairs. Nancy shut her eyes and listened as

      Grant read the clue aloud.

      “ I am old and fat and wrinkled, yet people sing of

      my beauty,' ” he began.

      “ I live on solid ground, but my head is in the clouds

      . . .' ”

      As he spoke, Nancy tried to form a picture in her

      mind.

      “ I cannot speak,' ” Grant continued, “ yet I tell the

      stories of many, many people.

      “ I have rings, but you will find no fingers on me.' ”

      Nancy opened her eyes as Grant put the clue down

      on the coffee table in front of the couch. “That's it,” he

      said. “Any ideas?”

      Leaning forward, Nancy picked up the clue to study

      it. “Who can tell stories without speaking?” she

      wondered aloud.

      “Maybe it's a what. Maybe a book?” Ned suggested.

      “A notebook could have rings but no fingers,”

      George said. “And I guess a book could be old and fat

      and wrinkled. . . .”

      Grant frowned. “What about having its head in the

      clouds? That sounds more like a building.”

      His backpack was on the floor next to him. Grant

      pulled out his map of the Emerson campus. But as

      Nancy looked at it, she felt as if cotton was clogging her

      brain.

      For forty-five minutes they tried to reason out the

      clue, but couldn't get it.

      “Maybe we'll be able to think more clearly after we

      get some sleep,” Nancy said, but she hated to end the

      day feeling so unsettled.

      Brringgg!

      Nancy's eyes popped open. She fumbled in the

      darkness to turn off the alarm, then groaned when she

      saw the glowing numbers on the clock: 4:30.

      “Time to get up, already?” she mumbled, and lay

      quietly in the darkness.

      “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Nancy finally said,

      turning on the light on her bedside table.

      George cracked one eye, then groaned and turned

      over, pulling the blankets over her head.

      “Come on,” Nancy said, laughing. “We only have an

      hour to get dressed, meet the guys for breakfast, and

      get to Clues Challenge headquarters before the horn

      blows at five-thirty.”

      She got out of bed and pulled on jeans and a

      turtleneck. “Now, where's my toothbrush and soap?”

      Nancy grabbed her bag of toiletries from the

      windowsill, then paused with her hand in midair.

      “Whoa,” she murmured, staring at the gnarled

      branches of a maple tree that rose out of the snow

      outside the window. “A tree! That's the answer!”

      “Come again?” George rubbed her eyes and swung

      her feet to the floor.

      “A tree can be beautiful even when it's old and fat

      and wrinkled,” Nancy said. “It can live on solid ground

      and still have its head in the clouds. It has rings . . .”

      “But no fingers!” George jumped out of bed, sud-

      denly wide-awake. “You're right! But what was the

      other part? Something about not speaking but telling

      stories . . .”

      “That's the only part I'm not sure of,” Nancy ad-

      mitted. “Maybe the guys will know. They're a lot more

      familiar with the campus than we are.”

      It took them less than fifteen minutes to get dressed

      and drive to Ned's fraternity. They found Ned, C.J.,

      and Grant in the kitchen making toast, scrambled eggs,

      and coffee.

      “Hi, there,” Ned said as the girls walked in. He

      stopped buttering toast long enough to give Nancy a

      big hug.

      “Hi, yourself.” Nancy leaned back and smiled up at

      his handsome face and dark eyes. “Do you guys know

      of any special trees on campus? Say, one that's big and

      old and wrinkled, and can tell many people's stories?”

      “Of course!” Grant said, slapping his palm against

      his forehead. “The legendary oak!”

      “What's that?” George asked.

      “It's this huge oak way back in the woods on the

      other side of campus. It's been around since before

      Europeans settled here,” Ned said. “It's a tradition to

      carve your initials on it.”

      “Which is how the tree tells the story of many peo-

      ple even though it can't speak,” said George.

      C.J. nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “When Mr.

      Lorenzo blows the horn this time,” he said, “no one's

      going to stop us!”

      A pale light was just snaking across the horizon when

      Mr. Lorenzo sounded his air horn at five-thirty sharp.

      The Omegas were ready. Within five minutes they

      had put on their skis and left the Sports Complex be-

      hind.

      “Did you see Joy's face when we shot out of there?”

      Grant said, grinning. “She couldn't believe we solved

      the clue before she did.”

      C.J. slid forward on his skis, heading toward the

      woods on the far side of the lake. He angled a quick

      glance back at Randy, who was skiing behind him. “It's

      more than five miles to the oak,” he said. “You're sure

      you're up for the trip?”

      Randy nodded. “Absolutely. As long as we can talk

      while we ski,” he said. “I was hoping you could tell me

      about the Clues Challenge sponsor.”

      “Mr. Lorenzo?” C.J. skied forward easily. Nancy was

      glad to see his ankle didn't seem to trouble him.

      “There's not much to tell. He just opened SportsMania

      a few months ago.”

      “What about before that?” Randy asked.

      “Beats me,” C.J. said.

      As she skied behind Randy, Nancy wondered at his

      questions. “I thought your article was about C.J., not

      Mr. Lorenzo,” she said.

      “Background information is an important part of any

      article. I like to get my facts straight,” he told her.

      But as they skied deeper into the woods, Randy's

      questions continued to
    focus on Mr. Lorenzo. Did he

      have a special interest in college sports? Did C.J. know

      how long Mr. Lorenzo had lived in Emerson, or where

      he moved from?

      After a while Nancy tuned him out and concentrated

      on skiing. The path they forged was through dense

      forest. Every time Nancy breathed in, she smelled the

      sweet fragrance of cedar and pine.

      “I think we're getting close,” Ned said.

      Nancy began a searching sweep over the area with

      her eyes. There were plenty of oaks, but none that

      looked as big as the one Ned had described.

      “You think we took a wrong turn somewhere?”

      George wondered, when they'd been skiing for more

      than forty-five minutes. “I don't see—”

      “There!” Nancy stopped in her tracks and pointed

      with her ski pole.

      About twenty yards in front of her the branches of a

      huge oak towered over the other treetops. As they

      skied toward it, Nancy saw a massive tree trunk more

      than four feet across. Its bark was chipped and scarred

      from carvings that covered nearly every square inch of

      it.

      “That's the legendary oak, all right,” Grant con-

      firmed.

      Nancy saw a second set of ski tracks leading up to

      the legendary oak. They snaked through the woods

      from somewhere to the left of the path the Omegas

      had taken.

      “Whoever made those took a different route through

      the woods,” George commented.

      “Jimmy probably,” Grant said. “He hid the clues for

      Mr. Lorenzo.”

      C.J. tilted his face upward and then said, “There's

      the snowflake.”

      Nancy looked up, following his gaze. In the topmost

      branches of the tree, sunlight glinted off a plastic

      snowflake.

      “This one's mine,” she said. After stepping out of her

      skis, she hoisted herself on to the lowest branch. She

      reached for the next branch, then had to grab it wildly

      as her boot slipped on the icy bark.

      “Whoa!” she cried.

      “Careful, Nan,” George called.

      Nancy steadied herself, flashing a grin down at her

      teammates. “Don't worry,” she assured them.

      Slowly and surely, she climbed up to the next

      branch, and the next. She noticed that snow had al-

      ready been cleared from some of the branches—no

      doubt by Jimmy when he had hidden the clue. Footing

      on those branches was less slippery than where the

      snow was still thick, so Nancy followed the trail

      upward. She didn't pause until she saw the treetops of

      the evergreens that were thick around the oak.

      “Wow!” she murmured.

      Straight down, Ned and the others looked tiny.

      Nancy felt so giddy she had to clutch the branch even

      tighter to keep her balance.

      “Almost there.” She angled a look up at the plastic

      snowflake, which glowed in the sunlight just two

      branches over her head.

      Taking a deep breath, she placed her boot on the

      next branch and pulled herself up. She steadied her-

      self, then reached for a higher branch.

      With a chilling, cracking sound, the branch beneath

      her gave way. Nancy gasped as her boot slipped off.

      “Noooo!” she cried.

      In the next instant she felt herself falling into thin

      air.

      13. Into Thin Air

      Nancy plummeted downward. Her heart stopped in

      her chest as she caught a dizzying glimpse of snow-

      covered trees far below.

      Throwing her arms out, she grabbed a branch and

      her body jerked to a stop.

      “Ooooh!” Nancy's arms felt as if they had been

      yanked from their sockets.

      “Nancy!” Shouts of alarm rose up from below.

      Grunting, Nancy swung her legs around to grab the

      tree trunk with them. Her hands started to slip on the

      icy branch, and she wasn't sure how she did it, but at

      last she was sitting firmly on a solid branch.

      “I'm . . . all right!” she called down, her chest

      heaving.

      “What happened?” Ned's worried voice rose up to

      her.

      Nancy looked up, eyeing the broken branch. It had

      split just inches from the trunk. Now the branch hung

      at right angles to its original position, exposing the pale,

      splintered wood beneath the heavy bark.

      After taking a few deep breaths, Nancy climbed up

      for a closer look. She frowned when she saw the

      smooth slice in the wood. The cut ran about two thirds

      of the way through.

      Someone had sawn through the branch.

      Nancy shivered, thinking of what might have hap-

      pened if she hadn't stopped her fall. Then, pushing the

      thought firmly from her head, she climbed the rest of

      the way to the plastic snowflake and opened it.

      Four paper clues lay folded inside. So we're the first

      team to get the clue, thought Nancy. But someone

      came here first and cut through that branch.

      Nancy climbed quickly back to the ground.

      “I was so scared for you,” Ned said, giving her a hug.

      “That could have been a nasty accident.”

      “It wasn't an accident,” Nancy told him. “Someone

      sawed through that branch.”

      “What!” Ned, C.J., Grant, George, and Randy all

      cried at the same time.

      “Oh, man.” C.J. shook his head in disgust. “Someone

      has tried to stop us from getting every single clue.”

      “But who?” George wondered aloud. “Joy?”

      Nancy had been running over the list of suspects in

      her own mind. “I'm pretty sure Joy is the one who took

      my hat,” she said. “Maybe this is what she did in the

      woods last night.”

      “What about Dennis?” Grant asked. “He went

      AWOL when his teammates were brainstorming the

      second clue yesterday. He could have come here then

      and sawed through the branch.”

      “But how could Dennis have known where this

      snowflake was hidden?” Ned asked. “As of this

      morning, his team didn't even have the clue from the

      administration building.”

      Nancy grabbed her ski pole and poked the snow

      with it while she thought. “Someone tried to threaten

      Mr. Lorenzo into handing over the answers to the

      clues. Maybe it was Dennis,” she suggested.

      “Maybe,” said George. “But if Dennis got all the

      answers, why is his team so far behind in the Clues

      Challenge?”

      It was a question for which Nancy didn't have an

      answer.

      Nancy shot a surreptitious glance at Randy as she

      pulled her yellow team hat farther down on her head.

      Was he the blackmailer and saboteur?

      She shook herself. It was a pretty far-fetched theory.

      So far, the only thing implicating Randy was Mr.

      Lorenzo's intense dislike of him.

      “Heads up, everyone. Look who's here,” said C.J.,

      breaking into her thoughts.

      Nancy looked up to see Joy ski toward them through

      the woods. Hanna and the three other girls from Delta

      Tau stretche
    d in a line behind her, skiing forward at a

      spirited pace.

      “Looks like we're ahead this time,” C.J. said to Joy as

      she came to a stop next to him. He nodded toward the

      slip of paper in Nancy's hand.

      “Not for long.” Joy gave a shrug, glancing at the clue.

      She popped off her skis and dropped her backpack.

      “I'll be back in a flash.”

      “Be careful near the top,” Nancy warned. “There's a

      broken branch.”

      “Someone sawed through most of it, so it would

      snap when it was stepped on,” George added.

      Joy's face was hidden from view as she pulled herself

      up onto the lowest branch. When she finally glanced

      down at Nancy, Joy's eyes flashed with irritation. “I

      suppose you're going to try to pin that on me, too?” she

      said.

      She reached calmly for the next branch and kept

      climbing. Her teammates gathered at the foot of the

      tree calling encouragement.

      “She sure doesn't act like she's guilty,” George

      whispered in Nancy's ear.

      “No, but maybe that's exactly what she's doing . . .

      acting,” said Nancy.

      She eyed Joy's teammates. All their faces were

      turned upward. No one was paying attention to Joy's

      backpack, which lay on a mound of snow next to her

      skis.

      Catching George's eye, Nancy held her finger to her

      lips. She moved quietly to the backpack. Crouching

      next to it, she pulled the zipper open slowly.

      Hmm, she thought, scanning the contents. Joy had

      packed an extra pair of gloves, sunglasses, protective lip

      balm. . . . Nancy saw nothing unusual—until her gaze

      landed on a small bottle with a prescription label.

      She glanced quickly over her shoulder. Seeing that

      Joy was hidden by the branches of the huge old oak,

      Nancy reached inside the pack and pulled out the

      bottle.

      The prescription label was partly torn. Nancy

      couldn't read the name of the person it was for. But the

      name of the medicine was still intact.

      “Comptamine,” Nancy breathed. The same drug

      that was used to spike their dessert at the pre-

      Challenge dinner!

      Gripping the bottle tightly, she made her way to her

      teammates, who waited next to their skis.

      “Find something?” Grant guessed, looking at the

      bottle.

      Nancy showed them the prescription bottle, then

      turned as Joy's teammates cheered. “Joy's on her way

      down with the clue,” she said, peering up into the

     


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