"Well, the art exhibit won't be sad," I said. "You'll get to see the elephants having fun."

Alan tapped me on the shoulder. "I don't feel like watching a bunch of elephants paint. I think I'll go do some more seal watching. Two o'clock is their feeding time."

"Yeah, I don't feel like watching Jumbo paint, either," Howie chimed in. "I think I'll check up on the bears. See how they're doing. Yesterday, they just slept. Maybe they'll be awake today."

"Okay." I checked my watch. "We better hurry, the exhibition starts in two minutes."

A small crowd had already a.s.sembled in the amphitheater outside the elephant house. The amphitheater consisted of several rows of wooden benches set in half circles up the side of a small hill, looking down on the elephants' play yard. The yard was empty except for a row of large easels set with blank sheets of cardboard, a table with several paintbrushes on it, and a large garbage can. Mrs. Wofsey was just finishing some announcements to the audience when we arrived.

"Please take your seats, everyone," she said. "The elephants will be out in just a few minutes."

"I want to sit in front," Carolyn said. "I want to sit with you," Marilyn said, taking Dawn's hand.

The benches were filling up fast, especially the ones in front so Dawn said quickly, "All right, Carolyn, you sit in the front row, but when it's over, wait for me to come find you. I'll be in back."

We hurried up the hillside and slipped onto a bench near the back. Music blared from loudspeakers set into the foliage at the front of the amphitheater, and the elephants' barn doors were thrown open.

"Look!" cried Marilyn, as two adult elephants and a smaller, younger one marched in a perfect line into the play yard. "They're wearing big hats."

"Those are called berets," Dawn explained. "A lot of artists wear them."

"The elephants are so cute," I cried. "Especially the little one. Oooh, look at him!"

The smaller elephant, who had been trotting behind the grown-up ones, suddenly sprinted ahead of the others to grab his paintbrush. Then he raced to the large garbage can, which was full of paint, and dipped his brush in it. He trotted around in a half circle leaving a big red stripe on every easel.

"You little rascal," the elephant handler scolded. "Now come on. Up to your easel. Up!"

The two larger elephants took their artwork more seriously. They were already painting around the red stripes on their canvases. It was fascinating watching them choose among the primary colors of red, yellow, and blue. Sometimes they'd mix them and get a bright green or reddish-purple.

Our seats were close to the side of the amphitheater, where Mrs. Wofsey was standing and watching the show. So we were the first to hear the bad news when Mr. Chester delivered it to her.

"The emu. She escaped," Mr. Chester said, puffing, red in the face.

"Oh, my word." Mrs. Wofsey reached for the walkie-talkie in a belt on her hip and started barking orders. "I'll call zoo security.

You get Mike and Curtis from the plant crew, and we'll cordon off the area."

"No need," Mr. Chester said, finally catching his breath. "I've already taken care of the problem. The vet was in die area. He drove the zoo cart while I herded the emu back into her pen."

Mrs. Wofsey put her walkie-talkie back in its holster. "Well, I'm glad you've handled it so efficiently. Fortunately, the emu is a fairly tame bird. I'm glad Tim was there to help you. Thank you."

Mr. Chester smiled. "It was nothing."

"I think I'd better get over there to see how the escape occurred," Mrs. Wofsey said.

"Don't worry, that's under control as well," Mr. Chester said. "I'm having some of the groundskeepers look into it."

"I'm sorry, but that won't do." Mrs. Wofsey's voice was stern. "As head of this zoo, it's my job to make sure these things don't happen. I will conduct this investigation personally."

Mr. Chester shrugged. "Suit yourself."

This new information was far more intriguing than the painting demonstration. Especially since it involved my emu, Edith. It was hard to imagine her staging a break-out.

When the elephant exhibition ended, I said a quick good-bye to Dawn and hurried to the emu's pen to see what had happened. I figured this would be something exciting to write in my journal.

Friday: Edith slept, took two drinks of water.

Sat.u.r.day: Edith slept, took one drink of water, then broke down the fence and escaped.

I think my imagination went a little wild. When I reached the pen, I could see that the fence was just fine. In fact, there was no sign of any disturbance at all. As usual, Edith was under her tree, dozing.

Mrs. Wofsey was inside, on the concrete driveway, talking to a man sitting behind the wheel of what looked like a golf cart. The words Bedford Zoo - Veterinary Services were painted on the side. I figured that the man was Tim, who had helped Mr. Chester corral Edith.

Several other students and visitors had gathered by the gate to see what the commotion was about. Upon seeing the crowd, Mrs. Wofsey walked over to the fence to make an announcement.

"Some of you may have heard that our emu escaped from her pen about an hour ago. This is true. But as you can see she is back, safe and sound. You have nothing to be concerned about. As you know, if you have used your gold key and listened to the info kiosk, the emu is a very docile bird. No one was in any danger of getting hurt."

While Mrs. Wofsey was talking, I noticed several large red stains on the concrete at her feet. Not bloodstains, but more like the stains left by smashed berries. They were just inside the gate, and also on my side (the public side) of the drive. I wondered if someone had spilled a bucket full of berries.

The crowd stayed for a few more minutes. Maybe they wanted to see if Edith would make another break for it. But as she settled in for what was probably going to be a long afternoon nap, they wandered off. I watched Mrs. Wofsey and Tim talk for a while. At one point she turned in a half circle, gesturing at the fence ringing the perimeter of the field. I guessed she was asking Tim to check it for any breaks.

As he drove away, she reached in the pocket of her jacket, then spun around, looking at the ground.

"Curtis!" she called to a man in a green shirt and green work pants. He held a broom and dust pan in his hand and was busily picking up litter and dumping it in the trash. Curtis hurried over to the gate.

"Yes, Mrs. Wofsey?"

"Have you seen my master key? I seem to have misplaced it." Mrs. Wofsey sounded anxious. "You know what it looks like, don't you? It's bra.s.s, like those gold-painted keys the visitors use for the kiosks."

'I'll keep an eye out for it," Curtis replied.

"Thank you." Mrs. Wofsey checked her pockets once more, shaking her head nervously.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught some movement a few yards away, near the primate enclosure. It was Mr. Chester. I think he had overheard Mrs. Wofsey's conversation. He was making a ducking sound of disapproval with his tongue.

I had just decided to help Mrs. Wofsey look for her key when I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Yikes!" I squealed.

"Boy, are you jumpy," Alan said.

I told them about the emu's escape, recapping Mr. Chester's tale of herding the emu back to its pen. They were pretty impressed.

"I wish the seals had been that exciting," Alan said. 'Two o'clock was feeding time, I thought. But by the time I got there, they were taking their afternoon nap. The attendant said they'd already eaten."

I jotted his observation in my notebook: "Seals nap soon after eating." Then I turned to Howie. "How'd it go with the bears?"

"The bears?" Howie blinked at me for a second. "Oh, right. The bears. Um, they mostly lounged around on tree branches, napping."

"All afternoon?" I asked.

"Pretty much." Howie grinned crookedly. "Nice life those bears have. Eat and then loaf around in your big fur coat."

//Boring/" Alan said.

I checked the notebook entries. There was a full page on the emu, and only one measly sentence each on the seals and bears. "Wasn't there anything else you observed about your animals?" I asked them.

Howie scratched his head. "I didn't notice anything else about the bears but I did see something strange outside the bear cage. This couple wearing matching sweatsuits and lugging a lot of camera equipment were walking around. They'd stop at a cage and talk a lot, then make notes on a pad. But here's the weird part - they never took any pictures."

"I'm sure they were just visiting the zoo," I said. "I mean, lots of people carry cameras."

Howie shook his head. "These guys didn't seem like normal tourist types. I mean, they weren't enjoying looking at the animals. I didn't see them smile once. But they sure talked a lot about each animal."

My dad picked up Claudia, Logan, and me and drove us home. On the way back, the image of Edith sitting docilely under her tree kept popping into my head. It wasn't until we were pulling into the driveway that the thought finally hit me. Edith didn't escape . . . somebody must have let her out. But who? The protestors in front of the zoo? And what about the strange couple in the matching sweatsuits? Hmm. It looked like we had a mystery on our hands. One that needed to be solved soon.

Chapter 8.

"The emu couldn't have escaped, because all she does is eat and sit. I would have to say that bird is the least likely candidate for a breakout at Bedford Zoo," I said at the Monday BSC meeting. "Add the fact that there was no break in the fence and I think we have a mystery on our hands."

We discussed the threatening notes Mrs. Wofsey had received, the protestors who marched in front of the zoo, and the weird couple with the camera equipment.

"I think I saw those two," Dawn said. "I don't remember what they looked like but I do remember their matching sweatsuits."

Claudia, who was on her hands and knees looking for a s...o...b..x in her closet, called, "Watch out for matching sweatsuits. I hate it when couples dress alike. It's so geeky."

"I noticed something else odd," I said, "which may or may not have anything to do with the mystery of who freed Edith." "Edith?" Kristy cut in. "Who's Edith?" I could feel myself blush. 'The emu. I named her that because I was tired of staring at her and just thinking of her as the emu."

"Oh, okay." Kristy flicked her wrist in the air. "Go on."

"Well, I noticed some huge red berry stains on the drive, just inside the gate and on the public side of the drive. I know they weren't there on Friday because I spent Friday afternoon watching her and staring at her pen."

"This is a mystery," Kristy murmured.

"One that the BSC could probably solve," I said. "Most of us are there every day - "

"And since we love animals," Dawn cut in, "we could be doing something to help them."

"While you are observing the animals be sure to keep a dose watch on people," Kristy directed. "Make a note of anyone doing anything suspicious. Keep track of the time that you saw them as well as the location."

"We should also make a note of the location of any bushes with red berries," I said.

"Ah! Here it is!" Claudia exclaimed suddenly. She held up an open s...o...b..x with a bag of Oreos tucked inside. "Cookies, anyone?"

We pa.s.sed the s...o...b..x 'around the circle, each of us taking a cookie.

Kristy took a bite of hers and mused, "I wish my group was going to the zoo. I spent the weekend watching Shannon. I had no idea she did so little with her day. Basically, she drinks a lot of water, with huge strings of s...o...b..r hanging from her mouth - "

"Ew!" we all cried, wrinkling our noses. "Gross!"

Kristy ignored us. "Then she wanders from room to room looking for playmates. Then she flops down in the middle of doorsills where people have to step over her. The high point of her day is barking at the mailman."

"It's not too late to change your project," I said. "You could join us at the zoo."

"I can't," Kristy said, taking another cookie. "Because of Stacey and Lauren, remember?"

"Maybe Lauren and Stacey want to change, too," Claudia suggested.

"That would mean talking to Stacey," Kristy said. "And then, if she didn't want to change, I'd have to argue with her. No thanks."

Mallory, whose backyard backs up to Stacey's backyard, asked, "How long do you think we can go on not speaking like this?"

Kristy pursed her lips. "Until she decides to apologize."

"Which will be never," Claudia said. "I don't think Stacey feels that she owes anyone an apology."

Kristy shrugged. "Then we could go on forever."

That was a depressing thought. So depressing that for a full minute no one spoke. We just sat with our shoulders slumped, thinking about not ever speaking to Stacey again.

Luckily, the phone rang and we had to concentrate on work. Jessi took a job sitting for the Braddocks and then Shannon scheduled a job watching the Gianellis.

I had wanted to talk more about the mystery and discuss my Logan vs. Alan problem, but I never had a chance. The rest of the half hour was completely taken up booking jobs.

On Tuesday afternoon at the zoo I noticed some new people on the staff. All of them carried walkie-talkies and wore navy blue blazers with the bright yellow Bedford Zoo patch on the breast pocket.

"Security has been tightened," Alan commented, as Howie and I joined him at a picnic table in the snack area. "I've counted at least four new employees."

So the zoo officials thought somebody had let Edith out, too. That made me more determined to find out who had done it.

Meanwhile, Howie was digging around in his pocket. "I can't believe it," he muttered. "I just can't believe it."

"You can't believe what?" Alan and I asked at the same time.

"I only have a quarter. A soda at this joint costs a dollar. That's a rip-off."

"Maybe that's their way of paying for the exhibits," I suggested as I rummaged in my backpack for some change. "The entrance fee is so low that they have to make up for it by charging a dollar for a c.o.ke."

Alan emptied his backpack onto the table. "I've got half a stick of gum, one rubber band, my zoo key, ten pennies, two nickels, and a quarter,"

Howie's pockets contained one quarter, an old movie ticket stub, several nails, his zoo key, a rabbit's foot, and a neon green yo-yo.

When I emptied my pack onto the table, it really got silly. A comb, three nickels, two quarters, my zoo key, a cat keychain, several pencils, and two erasers.

"What is this, a rummage sale?" Claudia asked, joining us at the picnic table.