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    Nate the Great and the Monster Mess


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      NATE THE GREAT

      NATE THE GREAT GOES UNDERCOVER

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE LOST LIST

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE PHONY CLUE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE STICKY CASE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE MISSING KEY

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE SNOWY TRAIL

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE FISHY PRIZE

      NATE THE GREAT STALKS STUPIDWEED

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE BORING BEACH BAG

      NATE THE GREAT GOES DOWN IN THE DUMPS

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE HALLOWEEN HUNT

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE MUSICAL NOTE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE STOLEN BASE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE PILLOWCASE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE MUSHY VALENTINE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE TARDY TORTOISE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE CRUNCHY CHRISTMAS

      NATE THE GREAT SAVES THE KING OF SWEDEN

      NATE THE GREAT AND ME: THE CASE OF THE FLEEING FANG

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE MONSTER MESS

      NATE THE GREAT, SAN FRANCISCO DETECTIVE

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE BIG SNIFF

      NATE THE GREAT ON THE OWL EXPRESS

      NATE THE GREAT TALKS TURKEY

      NATE THE GREAT AND THE HUNGRY BOOK CLUB

      AND CONTINUE THE DETECTIVE FUN WITH

      Olivia Sharp

      by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Mitchell Sharmat

      illustrated by Denke Brunkus

      OLIVIA SHARP: THE PIZZA MONSTER

      OLIVIA SHARP: THE PRINCESS OF THE FILLMORE STREET SCHOOL

      OLIVIA SHARP: THE SLY SPY

      OLIVIA SHARP: THE GREEN TOENAILS GANG

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      Text copyright © 1999 by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat

      New Illustrations of Nate the Great, Sludge, Fang, Annie, Rosamond, the Hexes, and Oliver by Martha Weston based upon the original drawings by Marc Simont.

      All other images copyright © 1999 by Martha Weston

      Extra Fun Activities copyright © 2005 by Emily Costello

      Extra Fun Activities illustrations copyright © 2005 by Jody Wheeler

      All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published in hardcover by Delacorte Press in 1999 and reissued in paperback with Extra Fun Activities by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books in 2005.

      Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

      Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/teens

      Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

      Library of Congress Cataloging-in Publication Data is available upon request.

      eBook ISBN: 978-0-385-37230-5

      Trade paperback ISBN: 978-0-440-41662-3

      Hardcover ISBN: 978-0-385-32114-3

      v3.1

      First Delacorte Ebook Edition 2013

      Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

      For ANNA RICHARDSON WEINMAN,

      the world’s best mother,

      who, by the way,

      created the world’s best chocolate cookie

      —M.W.S.

      To my CBI buddies—

      Mira, Dwight, Susan, and Ashley

      —M.W.

      Contents

      Cover

      Other Books By This Authors

      Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Chapter One: Draculas, Frankensteins, and Werewolves!

      Chapter Two: The Long and Short of It

      Chapter Three: One Big Mess

      Chapter Four: Tasty in Lemon

      Chapter Five: The Best Follow

      Chapter Six: Something Fishy

      Chapter Seven: Crossed-Out Werewolves!

      Chapter Eight: The Right Place

      Chapter Nine: A Scribble Among Scribbles

      Extra Fun Activities

      About the Authors

      My name is Nate the Great.

      I am a detective.

      My dog, Sludge, is a detective too.

      Today Sludge and I had big plans.

      To do nothing.

      Suddenly I saw something.

      There was a note under the door

      of my room.

      It was written in scribbles.

      I knew it was from my mother.

      She scribbles when she is in a hurry.

      I read it.

      “I love those monsters,”

      I said to Sludge.

      “Strawberry Draculas,

      Chocolate Frankensteins,

      Cinnamon Werewolves.

      My mother hates the werewolves,

      but she bakes them for me anyway.

      I must find that recipe.”

      I, Nate the Great,

      had never solved a case

      for my mother.

      My mother knew

      where everything was.

      Until now.

      “We will look inside,”

      I said. “Perhaps my mother

      did not look everywhere in the house.”

      I, Nate the Great, liked this case.

      I could stay home.

      I would not have to see

      Rosamond or her four cats.

      I would not have to see

      Annie’s dog, Fang.

      I could make as many pancakes

      as I wanted.

      Sludge and I went to the kitchen.

      My mother kept her recipes there.

      Each short recipe was written

      on one side of a card.

      Each long recipe was written

      on one side

      of a long piece of paper.

      The cards were in one pile.

      The papers were in another.

      My mother liked the cards.

      They were all neat and clean.

      She did not like the papers.

      They were crinkled, wrinkled,

      and stained with food.

      The pile of papers was a mess.

      And it was huge!

      But I, Nate the Great,

      had to look for Monster Cookies.

      “The recipe should be easy

      to find,” I said to Sludge.

      “It’s the only one with

      drawings of werewolves.

      Dozens and dozens of werewolves.

      All crossed out.

      My mother has never seen

      a werewolf she likes.”

      I spread every sheet on the floor.

      I found recipes for foods

      I had never eaten

      and would never want to eat.

      Like Squash Slosh.

      I found great names like

      Chocolate Bumps and Pecan Plops.

      I found scribbled names

      that I had never heard of.

      Like Lemfan.

      There was nothing listed under that one.

      And Fig Fizzle.

      Nothing was listed under that either.

      There were more pages

      with scribbled names.

      Maybe the recipes

      would be added later.

      I, Nate the Great,

      could not find

      Monster Cookies.

      It was time to think.

      I made some pancakes.

      I gave Sludge a bone.

      We ate and thought.
    >
      I knew that my mother

      had not made Monster Cookies

      for a week.

      Today she’d discovered that the

      recipe was gone.

      So the recipe might have

      been missing for a week

      or less than a week.

      I turned to Sludge.

      “We will look in every nook

      and cranny of this house.

      Look hard. It’s for my mother.”

      Sludge and I looked, sniffed,

      climbed up, bent down,

      knocked things over,

      pulled things out,

      pushed things around.

      We crumbled stuff.

      We jumbled stuff.

      Nothing.

      “I, Nate the Great, say

      there is a big clue

      missing in this case.

      The clue is my mother.

      We have to find her

      and ask her questions.”

      Sludge and I walked toward

      the front door.

      “Ouch!”

      We stumbled over the mess

      we had made.

      “We will clean this up

      when we get back,” I said.

      We went outside.

      “Think about where

      my mother would go,” I said.

      Sludge sat down.

      “No, don’t sit and think.

      Walk and think,” I said.

      Suddenly I knew why

      Sludge had sat down.

      Fang was up ahead with Annie.

      I went up to Annie.

      “I am looking for my mother,”

      I said. “Or her recipe

      for Monster Cookies.

      Have you seen either one?”

      “I saw your mother

      three days ago,” Annie said.

      “She said hello.

      Then she looked at Fang.

      She kept staring at him.

      Then she took a

      long piece of paper

      out of her pocketbook

      and wrote something down.

      She said that Fang

      would be tasty in lemon.

      What did that mean?”

      “You wouldn’t want to know,”

      I said.

      Sludge and I walked on.

      “Maybe my mother is adding

      Fang to her list of

      tasty monsters,” I said.

      “I can hardly wait to eat him.

      But that does not

      help us find my mother.”

      Sludge turned around.

      “Where are you going?” I asked.

      Sludge led the way to Oliver’s house.

      Oliver lives next door.

      Oliver is a pest.

      Oliver follows people.

      Oliver follows animals.

      Oliver follows the world.

      Oliver was in his yard.

      “Oliver,” I said.

      “Did you follow my mother today?”

      “Your mother went out today?”

      Oliver said. “Oh, phooey, I missed her!

      Your mother is a great follow.

      She goes to good places.

      Like the fish store.”

      Oliver collects eels.

      He likes anything fishy.

      “Oliver,” I said, “did you

      follow my mother this week?”

      “Yes. Three days ago.

      It was my favorite follow

      of the month.”

      “Where did she go?”

      Oliver looked proud.

      He opened a box.

      He took out a card.

      “I know who I follow

      and when I follow them

      and where they go,” he said.

      “I have a card for everybody.

      Let’s see.

      NATE THE GREAT’S MOTHER.

      Thursday. 2 P.M.

      She spoke to Annie.

      She looked at Fang.

      She took a long piece of paper

      out of her pocketbook.

      She scribbled something on it.

      It was probably her grocery list.

      She went to

      the supermarket next.

      She looked at the paper.

      Then she took a jar

      of cinnamon from a shelf.

      She stared at the jar.

      She put it back.

      She bought chocolate,

      strawberries, and a lemon.”

      “A lemon?” I said.

      Was she really going to make

      Lemon Fang Cookies?

      “What happened next?” I asked.

      “She went to the fish store,”

      Oliver said. “She took more long papers

      from her pocketbook,

      looked at them, and bought

      lots of fish.”

      “Aha!” I said. “More long papers.

      They could not be grocery lists.

      They must have been recipes.

      At the fish store for fish dishes.

      At the supermarket

      for Monster Cookies.

      What did she do next?”

      “I don’t know,” Oliver said.

      “I had to go home

      and feed my eels.”

      “I must go to the fish store,” I said.

      “I must follow you,” Oliver said.

      “I know it,” I said.

      Sludge and I walked

      to the fish store.

      Oliver followed us.

      Rosamond and her four cats

      were there.

      Rosamond was buying tuna.

      “Here,” she said

      to the man behind the counter,

      “is some paper to wrap my tuna in.

      You wrapped my fish in it

      two months ago.

      But the other side hasn’t been used.

      Just turn the paper over

      and use the other side.”

      The paper was stained,

      rumpled, and crumpled.

      And smelly.

      The man made a face.

      But he wrapped the tuna

      in the paper.

      “I recycle everything,”

      Rosamond said. “But fish paper

      is the best.”

      I, Nate the Great,

      was disgusted to hear that.

      I went up to Rosamond.

      I did not want to do that.

      “Have you seen my mother?

      Or her recipe for

      Monster Cookies?” I asked.

      Rosamond looked mad.

      “I saw your mother

      a few minutes ago.

      She asked me if I

      had seen her recipe.

      Now you are asking me questions.

      You always ask me questions.

      From now on I will

      charge you for my answers.”

      Rosamond was strange.

      Now I, Nate the Great, had

      to be even stranger.

      “Well, from now on,

      I, Nate the Great,

      will charge you

      for my questions,” I said.

      Rosamond shrugged.

      “Okay, no charge,” she said.

      “The answer is that I have not

      seen your mother’s recipe.

      And I don’t know

      where she went

      after I saw her.”

      “For that you wanted money?” I said.

      Rosamond hugged her tuna package.

      “Well, when I answer your questions

      I have to think hard,

      I have to breathe harder,

      my toes tingle,

      my cats get hungry,

      my …”

      It was time to leave.

      Sludge, Oliver, and I went outside.

      Oliver took out a card

      and scribbled something on it.

      Hmmm.

      It was just the way my mother

      scribbled her short reci
    pes

      on her cards.

      Sludge sniffed the card.

      Was he thinking what I was thinking?

      Sludge and I rushed home.

      “We have solved the case,” I said.

      I opened the front door.

      We tripped.

      “We’ll clean up soon,”

      I said. “But first we

      have to use our clues.

      We know that my mother

      had the recipe when she

      went to the supermarket

      three days ago.

      She almost bought cinnamon there.

      But she didn’t.

      My mother really hates

      Cinnamon Werewolves.

      So she must have decided

      not to bake them anymore.

      And that meant she didn’t need

      all those crossed-out werewolves!

      I, Nate the Great, say that without them,

      the Monster Cookies recipe

      was short enough to write on a card.

      So when my mother got home,

      she copied the recipe

      from the piece of paper

      onto a card.

      She threw out the paper.

      Then she forgot that

      the recipe is now on a card.”

      I went to the pile of cards.

      I thumbed through them fast.

      I knew I would find

      Monster Cookies.

      Sludge wagged his tail.

      He knew it too.

      I looked once.

      I looked twice.

      I looked three times.

      Sludge stopped wagging.

      “The recipe is not

      on a card,” I said.

      “I should have known

      that my mother knows

      what she is looking for.

      A long piece of paper.”

      I opened a cupboard.

      There was plenty of cinnamon.

      My werewolves were safe.

      “We have to keep looking

      for my mother,” I said.

      Sludge and I rushed to the door.

      Thud! Bump! Thump!

      We fell down.

      “We will clean up

      this place soon,” I said.

      Sludge was tired of hearing that.

      We sat there.

      “It’s hard work being

      a detective,” I said.

      “I have to think about

      what I am looking for

      and who I am working for.

      I am working for my mother.

      I know that she does not lose things.

      She puts things in the right place.

     

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