163 The Clues Challenge Page 5

  “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