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    163 The Clues Challenge

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      “Watch out from behind!” George warned. Dede

      and her teammates were moving up, Nancy saw.

      “Out of the way, slowpokes!” Dede called, grinning.

      She skied off the packed path, forging a new track that

      ran parallel to the one Nancy and her teammates were

      on.

      “Pass 'em!” Rosie called from behind.

      “Hey!” Nancy cried as Dede drew even.

      “Oh, no, you don't. . . .” Breathless, Ned poled

      faster, and the Omegas pulled ahead again.

      The two teams leapfrogged back and forth, skiing

      along the lake's edge. Nancy had never felt so exhila-

      rated. Sunlight sparkled off one spot on the lake where

      there wasn't any snow.

      “That must be where the stream comes in!” she

      realized. “The moving water kept that part of the lake

      from freezing.”

      Ahead of her Georges head bobbed in a nod. “We're

      almost at the wet wanderer!”

      “You mean, we're almost there!” Denise called as

      she skied parallel to Nancy.

      Just ahead of them the stream angled off to the left.

      Ned and Dede had already veered away from the lake

      to ski beside the stream in parallel paths. Ned had

      forged a path closer to the stream. To his right, the

      ground sloped sharply down to the water.

      “Faster, Ned!” George cried. She turned to glance at

      Denise, who had nearly caught up with her. George

      poled with extra vigor. She shot forward, angling

      around as the path curved next to the stream. “We

      can't let them—”

      She broke off in a gasp as her right boot suddenly

      pulled free of her ski. George flew sideways, tumbling

      down the snowy slope.

      “Help!” she cried, her arms and ski poles flailing.

      “Oh, no!” Nancy's heart leaped into her throat as she

      watched George fly straight toward the frigid stream.

      6. Cross-Country Catastrophe

      “George!” Nancy's eyes flew left and right. She

      searched madly for some way to help George stop

      before she plunged into the icy water.

      “The shrubs!” Nancy cried, jabbing her ski pole at

      the scraggly bushes that lined the stream. “Reach out

      and grab them!”

      She didn't see how George could even see the

      bushes, she was tumbling so fast. All Nancy saw was a

      blur of poles, arms, legs. George's left ski popped off

      and skittered down toward the water. All at once

      George's arm shot out. Miraculously, her hand closed

      around some branches.

      “Ooooh!” A muffled groan escaped George's mouth

      as she jerked to a stop. Her boots smashed through the

      thin ice at the stream's edge. George yanked them out

      instantly then sat up, dazed.

      “Whoa” was all she said.

      Nancy popped out of her skis and was next to

      George in a flash. “Are you okay?” she asked.

      George got slowly to her feet, shaking snow off.

      “Nothing hurts. And the water didn't soak through to

      my feet,” she said.

      Nancy retrieved George's left ski, which was sub-

      merged halfway in the stream. After shaking off the

      water, she and George tromped back up to the trail,

      where Ned and Grant waited. Ned had picked up

      George's right ski and was examining it. Nancy saw

      Dede and the other Kappas behind the guys. They had

      all stopped and were watching George with worried

      eyes.

      “Everything okay?” Rosie called over.

      George didn't answer right away—she seemed to be

      preoccupied. “Skis shouldn't just pop off like that,” she

      said.

      “The binding popped off on one side,” Ned said,

      turning the ski so George and Nancy could see.

      Looking over George's shoulder, Nancy saw that one

      side of the binding had ripped totally free of the ski. A

      screw dangled from the screw hole in the binding.

      Nancy took one look at the blunt end of the screw and

      frowned.

      “The tip's been sawed off!” she said, rubbing her

      finger against it.

      George's whole face darkened as she stared at the

      screw. “You mean, someone sawed off the tip and then

      screwed it back into my ski?” she said.

      Nancy nodded. “Leaving enough thread to hold the

      bindings on, but not enough to take the extra stress you

      put on the bindings when you skied all out.”

      Grant jabbed a ski pole into the snow. “Spiked food,

      soap on the tower stairs . . .”

      “And now this.” Ned shook his head in disgust.

      Dede exchanged quick glances with her teammates.

      “I hope you don't think we had anything to do with

      these pranks,” she said.

      Nancy supposed any of the teams could be re-

      sponsible—even the Kappas—but Dede had seemed

      genuinely shocked to see the soaped stair. Also, she

      had been sitting at their table the night before, which

      meant she could have eaten the spiked dessert along

      with the Omegas. Nancy had a hard time believing that

      Dede would do anything to harm her boyfriend or

      anyone on the Omega team.

      “We'll consider everyone innocent until proven

      guilty,” Nancy said.

      “In that case”—Dede grinned at Nancy and skied

      forward—“see you at the clue!”

      George watched with longing. “You guys go,” she

      urged. “I'll meet you back at Clues Challenge head-

      quarters.”

      “You're sure you'll be okay?” Grant asked.

      “Go!” George insisted.

      Nancy snapped her boots into her bindings and

      pushed off after Ned and Grant. “We'll meet you back

      at HQ as soon as we can,” she said.

      She didn't like leaving George, but she couldn't help

      getting caught up in the excitement as she spotted

      more of the landmarks in the clue. The “broken-down”

      barrier turned out to be a crumbling stone wall that

      had been part of the Sanderford farm. By following the

      wall, they came to an old family cemetery deep in the

      woods.

      “That has to be the bony clutches' in the clue,” Ned

      said as they skied past.

      The Kappas were just ahead of them, but Nancy saw

      the Deltas beyond them, but skiing back toward them.

      “The Deltas,” Grant said.

      Joy was in the lead, the wind ruffling her long, blond

      hair. Beneath her blue cap, her face was triumphant.

      She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a

      slip of paper.

      “Looking for the snowflake with these inside?” she

      asked, waving the clue in the air. Without waiting for

      an answer, she shoved the paper back in her pocket

      and stepped off the path to angle around Ned, Grant,

      and Nancy. “We'll be on our way to the next snowflake

      before you get back to Clues Challenge HQ.”

      Joy skied on without looking back. The four girls

      with her grinned from ear to ear as they followed.

      “You know . . .” Ned said once the Deltas were out

      of earshot. “One of them could have sawed the end off

      that screw.”r />
      “Maybe. Or someone from Dennis's team could

      have done it,” Nancy said. “But if they think this kind

      of stunt is going to stop us, they are so wrong.”

      Moments later they came to some snow-covered

      mounds that seemed to be the foundations of two

      buildings. The Kappas had stopped amid the stones

      and were walking around in their boots. There were

      footprints around both foundations.

      “There's an old well,” Grant said, pointing to a cir-

      cular stone wall midway between the two foundations.

      “That must be the ring of rocks. But which is the

      foundation of victory?”

      The stones of one foundation seemed to outline a

      larger space than the other. “I think the barn would

      have been bigger than the house,” Nancy said.

      Walking toward the larger foundation, she began to

      look over the stones. Then she spotted an iron weather

      vane—in the shape of a rising sun.

      Nancy leaped forward and lifted one end of the

      weathervane. There, just below it in the snow, was a

      plastic snowflake identical to the one Mel Lorenzo had

      shown them at the pre-challenge dinner the night

      before.

      Nancy opened the snowflake. Three identical slips

      of paper lay inside. Taking off her gloves, Nancy

      grabbed one clue and held it up. “Success,” she

      whispered so the Kappas wouldn't know they had

      found their clue.

      “Great,” Ned whispered back. “Now let's rebury the

      clues and head back to Clues Challenge headquarters.

      We can find out if Mr. Lorenzo saw anyone messing

      with George's ski.”

      “Okay, let's take a look at this thing.” Mel Lorenzo

      bent over George's ski, which lay in front of him on the

      table in the atrium. He could pull the screw out to

      check it closely through his tinted glasses.

      “Well?” George prompted as she, Nancy, Grant, and

      Ned clustered around.

      Finally Mr. Lorenzo put the screw down and sat

      back with a sigh. “The tip might have been sawed off,”

      he said slowly. “But I can't be sure. The tip could have

      snapped off when the binding pulled loose.”

      Nancy gaped at him. Could he really be suggesting

      the ski hadn't been sabotaged? “Can you check the

      other screw?” she asked. “If the tip is missing from that

      one, too, we'll know someone sawed it off.”

      “Good idea,” Grant said. “The end couldn't just

      break off inside the ski.”

      “Probably not,” Mr. Lorenzo said. “But I don't think

      we should jump to conclusions before all the evidence

      is in.”

      Nancy exchanged surprised glances with George.

      Why was Mr. Lorenzo so reluctant to recognize the

      sabotage?

      “Can you take out the other screw and check?”

      Nancy asked again.

      Mr. Lorenzo shrugged and reached into a canvas

      bag that sat next to the table on the AstroTurf floor. “I

      threw some extra tools and supplies in here. Tape for

      the ski poles, extra hooks and pulleys, screwdriver, and

      file,” he said as he sifted through the things. “I'm sure

      there was a screwdriver, but . . .”

      “Did you say file'?” George said.

      Mr. Lorenzo nodded. “I don't see it now, though. Or

      the screwdriver,” he said. Letting the bag drop to the

      floor, he lifted the newspaper he'd been reading.

      “Where are they?” he murmured, scanning the table

      beneath.

      “Isn't it obvious?” Ned spoke up. “Someone used

      your tools to sabotage George's skis.”

      Resting his elbows on the table, Mel Lorenzo

      pressed his fingers together in a steeple. “Show me the

      file and screwdriver in someone's pocket or backpack,

      and I'll be happy to disqualify that person from the

      Clues Challenge,” he said. “But right now all we have is

      suspicion and . . .”

      He frowned as Randy entered the atrium through a

      massive stone doorway that had once been the outside

      entrance to the old gym. C.J. was with him, using his

      cane to help take his weight off his bandaged foot.

      “Not him,” Mr. Lorenzo muttered.

      “You're back!” C.J. swung over, an expectant smile

      on his face. “You got the second clue?” His eyes lit up

      when he saw the slip of paper Nancy held up.

      “As a bonus, I got a couple of mouthfuls of snow and

      an ice-cold foot bath,” George said dryly. “Thanks to

      whoever sabotaged my skis.”

      “More sabotage?” Randy asked.

      Nancy wasn't surprised to see him take the lens cap

      off his camera. “Did anyone check your skis, C.J.?”

      Randy asked.

      Nancy felt a twinge of annoyance as he took a pic-

      ture of George's ski, with C.J. bent over it. Everything

      was a story to Randy, even if it affected the welfare of

      their Clues Challenge team.

      “Don't blow this out of proportion,” Mr. Lorenzo

      warned, scowling at Randy. “Reporters get sued for

      printing lies, you know.”

      “That's why I need you to give me the facts,” Randy

      said.

      “Man, oh, man.” Mel Lorenzo shook his head in

      disgust as Randy pulled his notebook out. “You'd better

      back off, pal.”

      Randy held up his hand. “Okay, okay. We'll skip the

      sabotage for the moment,” he said. “How about giving

      me some background information for my article? C.J.

      says you just opened SportsMania a few months ago. Is

      the Clues Challenge your first affiliation with college

      sports?”

      Nancy bit back a sigh of frustration. She wanted to

      ask Mr. Lorenzo if he'd seen anyone go through his

      canvas bag. With Randy around, though, she couldn't

      get a word in.

      “Forget it,” Ned whispered to her. “We need to

      figure out our second clue.”

      “Let's head over to the Student Center for lunch,”

      Grant suggested. “I'm starved.”

      “Sounds good to me,” C.J. agreed. “Want to come

      with us, Randy?”

      Randy turned away from Mr. Lorenzo, whose scowl

      had deepened. “Hmm? Oh—go ahead without me,”

      Randy said. “I'll meet up with you later.”

      The Student Center was a large, old-fashioned stone

      building near the lake that had once been the

      president's mansion. Nancy and the others entered

      through a high doorway with carved-oak doors that led

      into a fancy entrance hall two stories high. They made

      their way past pool tables and a TV lounge to a huge

      ballroom that had been converted to a cafeteria. Tables

      covered the tiled floor, and stairs rose up to metal

      platforms where there were more tables and chairs.

      Nancy liked the way the old wood paneling and

      stained-glass windows mixed with the industrial stairs

      and furniture.

      “Okay,” George said, once they were settled on one

      of the platforms with burgers, fries, nachos, and sodas

      piled on their table. “Let's see the clue.”

      Nancy pushed aside her fri
    es, flattened the piece of

      paper on the table, and read:

      Baseball Is for the Birds (Are Your Ears Ringing?)

      Needlenose on First

      Flying Colors on Second

      North Point on Third

      Snowflake at Home

      High fly towers over to score.

      Ground ball doesn't make it.

      “Huh?” Grant shoved a nacho into his mouth, then

      licked the cheese off his fingers. “I'm clueless.”

      Nancy read the clue from beginning to end a second

      time. “Well, we know it has to do with baseball. And it

      sounds like the snowflake with the next clue in it is at

      home base,” she said, thinking out loud.

      “Emerson doesn't have a baseball field,” Ned said.

      “What about those other hints? Needlenose, Flying

      Colors, and North Point on first, second, and third

      base.” George took a bite of her hamburger, then

      washed it down with some soda. “Are there places on

      campus with those names?”

      Grant took the map out of his backpack and put it

      on the table. While they ate, Nancy and the others

      pored over the map. But half an hour later they still

      hadn't solved the clue.

      “We're missing something important,” Nancy said,

      pushing aside her empty plate. “I mean, why does it say

      Baseball Is for the Birds'?” And that part about a high

      fly scoring, but a ground ball not making it . . . Does

      anyone get that?”

      When no one answered, Nancy got to her feet and

      pulled a hand through her reddish blond hair. “We

      need something to jumpstart our minds,” she said.

      “Anyone want cocoa?”

      Heads nodded all around the table.

      “I'll come with you,” George offered.

      As they clomped down the metal stairs in their

      boots, Nancy spotted Dennis on the lower level in his

      black parka. He sauntered over to an empty table near

      the food counter. The red-haired twins, Jake and

      Philip, were with him, along with the two other guys

      from their team. Judging by their red cheeks and the

      way they rubbed their hands together, Nancy guessed

      they had just come in from outdoors.

      “Looks like the Sigmas just got the clue from Ollie

      Sanderford's barn,” she said, nodding in Dennis's di-

      rection.

      She and George reached the main floor as the five

      guys plunked themselves down. Dennis zipped open a

      computer case, pulled out a sleek black laptop

      computer, and opened it. As Nancy and George circled

      behind their table toward the food counter, Nancy

     

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