The Mystery of the Mother Wolf Page 9

  Tomorrow I want to try Twister.”

  Nancy, Bess, George, and Dexter had just finished a

  delicious pancake breakfast when Paul entered the

  dining room, sipping a cup of coffee.

  “Would anyone like to take a dogsled ride?” he

  asked, putting down his cup. “The dogs haven't had

  much exercise lately because we've all been so pre-

  occupied with Rainbow. But I'd like to take them out

  now. Also, doing something fun might take our minds

  off Rainbow.”

  “Nothing will take my mind off Rainbow,” Jenny

  said glumly, picking at her pancakes as she sat slumped

  at the table. “But I don't want to be a party pooper, so

  everyone else, please go.”

  The three girls, Dexter, and Paul reluctantly left

  Jenny behind while they went to hitch up the dogs

  outside the barn. As Paul attached the harness, the

  dogs squirmed with excitement, wagging their tails and

  licking the humans gleefully.

  The sled reminded Nancy of an extra large tobog-

  gan. Sitting at the front, Paul held the reins. Nancy and

  George sat behind him, and Bess and Dexter huddled

  together way back.

  Paul gave the dogs an order to march on, and the

  sled took off. With Icicle and Grover in the lead, the

  dogs made a beautiful sight against the snow. Their

  gray-and-white fur, bright blue eyes, curly tails, and

  frosty breath gave the huskies a jaunty look as they

  trotted toward the woods.

  Paul steered the dogs down a woodland trail. The

  morning light streamed through the trees, creating

  dancing shadows on the snow as a breeze sifted

  through the branches. “Look, you guys!” he exclaimed,

  stopping the sled and pointing to some paw prints in

  the snow. “Guess what kind of animal made these

  tracks?”

  “A wolf?” Dexter asked.

  “Nope, a fox,” Paul said. “And over here I see some

  mouse tracks that suddenly end. I'll bet an owl got

  him.”

  Bess shuddered. “Boy, life can be tough.”

  “Especially in the mountains during winter,” Paul

  said, getting back on the sled and commanding the

  dogs onward. “I'll show you a bear cave in a minute.”

  About a hundred yards later, they arrived at a yawning

  cavern in a rock face to their right. “There's a bear

  hibernating in that cave,” Paul said. “Don't talk too

  loud, or you might wake him.”

  Bess giggled nervously. “I hope you're joking,” she

  whispered.

  Soon they were rushing along a cliff. In a ravine far

  below, a wide creek splashed over frozen rocks. “That's

  the Elk River,” Paul said. “Since it's moving water, it

  never gets completely frozen. You can't ice-skate on it,

  but it gives us great rafting and trout fishing during the

  summer.”

  As they approached a curve at top speed, Nancy

  glanced back at Bess to see how she was holding up.

  Bess had her eyes shut. “I can't look,” she declared.

  “It's okay, Bess,” Dexter said shyly. He threw his

  arm around her shoulder and gave it a comforting

  squeeze.

  Paul slowed the dogs, guiding them with the reins as

  they took the turn. “I take the dogs along this trail all

  the time,” he said. “We're used to it. Nothing's gonna

  happen.”

  Paul had hardly finished speaking when his left hand

  suddenly jerked backward. “Whoa!” he cried. “What

  happened?”

  Nancy saw exactly what had happened. The left rein

  had snapped off, leaving Paul with a short piece of it in

  his hand. The rest was flailing in the air, lashing the

  husky team like a whip.

  The terrified dogs moved forward, veering toward

  the ravine. One dog slipped on loose snow at the edge.

  “Get on back up here, Fritz!” Paul ordered, panic in

  his voice. The dog clawed desperately at the bank to

  keep from falling.

  Paul yanked the one rein he was left with, desper-

  ately trying to control the runaway team!

  12. Wolf Alert

  The sled teetered on the edge of the cliff as the dog

  fought to regain his footing. But no matter how hard he

  struggled, the sled continued to tip toward the ravine.

  Thirty feet below, the Elk River dashed against ice

  shards and boulders. Nancy held her breath, expecting

  to crash onto the rocks at any moment.

  “Lean to the right, everybody,” Paul commanded. As

  everyone obeyed him, he yelled, “Mush, Grover!

  Mush, Icy! Pull us to safety!” Then he steered the team

  to the right with his one working rein.

  The dogs strained to pull the sled back from the

  brink as their paws scrambled in the loose snow. With a

  surge of speed, the dogs leaped forward, tugging at the

  sled, using every ounce of strength they had.

  After a moment of horrifying suspense, the sled

  inched onto firmer ground. Then the husky team

  maneuvered the sled along the final few yards of the

  curve and into the safety of the woods as the trail

  moved away from the ridge. Once there, Paul stopped

  the team.

  Both huskies and humans took a moment to collect

  themselves, breathing deep lungfuls of the fresh pine-

  scented air.

  “I wonder if my heart will ever be calm again,” Bess

  said, patting her chest with a trembling hand.

  Paul jumped out of the sled. “I've got to figure out

  what to do about this rein before we go on,” he said

  soberly.

  Nancy joined him, curious to see whether the break

  in the leather looked deliberate. “Could I take a quick

  peek at the rein?” she asked him.

  “Sure,” he answered, surprise on his face. “Be my

  guest.”

  Picking up the rein, Nancy studied the area where

  the break had occurred. The leather wasn't the least bit

  worn, she observed, and the cut looked absolutely

  clean. I don't think this was a natural break caused by

  wear and tear, she decided, gently fingering the strap.

  Nancy handed the rein to Paul, who immediately got

  to work tying the broken pieces together. After a

  moment he threw the rein down in frustration. “This is

  a bust,” he grumbled. “I can't tie the leather—it's too

  stiff. Anyway, I think the strap is just long enough for

  me to reach it if I lean forward and hold on tight.”

  Nancy studied Paul as he handled the rein. I really

  doubt Paul cut it, she mused. He wouldn't endanger

  himself.

  Just to make sure, though, she asked, “By the way,

  Paul, do you own a stun gun?”

  Paul arched an eyebrow at Nancy. “That's an odd

  question, Nancy. But the answer is, yes, I do. I use my

  stun gun when I'm relocating wolves. I have to

  tranquilize the wolf before putting a radio collar on it.

  Why?”

  Nancy shrugged, then fudged an answer. “I just

  wondered if the thief could have used your stun gun to

  tranquilize Rainbow and Gr
over. Maybe it has the

  person's fingerprints on it.”

  “I doubt it,” Paul said. “I keep my gun upstairs in my

  drawer, and it definitely hasn't gone missing.”

  Nancy glanced at Paul's boots. Yes, they are large,

  she thought, but Rusty wears a similar pair, and Bill

  Ehret probably does, too. A lot of men who work

  outdoors in the winter have boots like that, so the tread

  isn't much of a clue.

  Nancy sighed, frustrated at having so few good

  clues. But as they all sledded back to the lodge,

  Nancy's mind turned to Bill Ehret. He definitely has a

  motive for holding Rainbow and her puppies hostage,

  she thought—he'd love to get Paul to side with him to

  banish wild wolves from Yellowstone. And, according

  to Paul, he even threatened to shoot wild wolves that

  strayed onto his ranch.

  Once they were all safely back at the lodge, the

  group decided not to tell Alice and John about the sled

  accident. “It would only worry them,” Paul said, and

  Nancy agreed. After she'd told Alice about their

  mishaps at Rusty's and on the chairlift the day before,

  Alice had been pretty upset. Nancy didn't see the point

  of piling on more bad news.

  Nancy also decided to put off calling the town

  supervisor to see if Paul had an alibi for when the

  puppies disappeared. After the sled incident, she was

  positive he was innocent, and she didn't want to waste

  any more time investigating the wrong person.

  After a delicious lunch of homemade chicken soup

  and grilled cheese sandwiches on French bread, Nancy

  motioned to George and Bess to follow her upstairs.

  Once they'd gathered in her room, she said, “I wanted

  to talk to you guys in private about Mr. Ehret. I'd really

  like to check out his ranch. That rein was purposely

  cut. Whoever did it—maybe Mr. Ehret—is getting

  dangerous. We've got to figure out what's going on.”

  “Whoever took Rainbow probably realizes we're

  investigating and wants to get rid of us,” Bess said.

  “Probably,” Nancy agreed. “Anyway, maybe if we

  sneak over to Mr. Ehret's place this afternoon, we'll

  find Rainbow and her puppies there.”

  “Could we investigate Mr. Ehret on our way to Elk

  Mountain, just like we did with Rusty yesterday?”

  George asked. “I was hoping to get out on the ski

  slopes today.”

  Nancy glanced at the bedside clock. “But it's already

  two-thirty, George. I don't think we'll have time to do

  both. What about cross-country skiing to Mr. Ehret's

  house? We could ask Jenny if there are trails.”

  “Fine by me,” George said happily.

  “But let's not bring along Paul or Dexter,” Nancy

  said. “I don't want too many people knowing about our

  investigation.”

  The girls found Jenny in her bedroom, looking

  mournfully out the window at the winter landscape.

  “Jenny, you've got to cheer up,” Bess said kindly

  “Sitting inside and pining for Rainbow isn't going to

  bring her back, but coming with us to look for her

  might.”

  Jenny brightened. “Thanks, Bess. I'm really sorry

  about being so down. I'd like to help you guys if you

  can think of something for me to do. I've just been too

  upset to think straight.”

  Nancy explained that they wanted to check out Bill

  Ehret and hoped that Jenny could show them the way

  to his ranch. “Could we cross-country ski over there?”

  Nancy asked.

  “The trail from here to Thunderbird Ranch is too

  hilly for skiing,” Jenny said, “but we could snowshoe

  there.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “How about it?”

  “Sounds great,” George said eagerly. “Do you have

  enough snowshoes for all of us?”

  After assuring the girls that there were plenty of

  snowshoes for guests, Jenny led the way to the walk-in

  equipment closet off the front hall. “I'm glad we're

  snowshoeing there instead of driving,” Jenny said,

  handing out equipment. “We'll be less obvious.”

  “I hope these snowshoes haven't been tampered

  with like the reins,” Bess commented, holding up her

  snowshoes and inspecting them carefully. “But I guess

  nothing too bad could happen to us even if they were.”

  When Jenny asked Bess what she meant, Bess filled

  her in on the sled adventure. “That's terrible,” Jenny

  said, looking shocked. “So someone actually cut that

  rein. You guys must have been petrified when the sled

  almost fell off the cliff.”

  “I saw my life flash before my eyes,” Bess pro-

  claimed.

  George threw her cousin a playful glance. “Hmm,

  and would that include zillions of hot fudge sundaes

  and all the cute clothes you've ever bought at the

  mall?”

  Bess rolled her eyes at George as they all went

  outside to attach their snowshoes. Once Jenny had

  given them a brief lesson on how to walk in the shoes,

  she led them toward the gate near the edge of the

  forest.

  “This feels so weird,” Bess exclaimed, lifting up a

  foot and then thwacking the snow with it. “I feel exactly

  like Frankenstein.”

  “Snowshoeing takes a little getting used to,” Jenny

  said. “But it makes trekking through deep snow easier.”

  Nancy agreed with Bess—her feet felt huge. But

  after ten minutes on a woodland trail covered with

  heavy snow, she could tell that Jenny was right. The

  snowshoes definitely made it easier to move.

  As they walked along, they saw the late-afternoon

  sun throw pink streamers across the sky, which filtered

  through the trees on their right, turning the snow a

  rosy gold. To their left the sky had become a deeper

  blue, with a cream-colored full moon already

  appearing.

  Jenny said, “I love it when the sky is so clear that you

  can see the moon during the day. The Wyoming

  wilderness is the most peaceful, beautiful place I

  know.”

  After a few minutes Jenny checked her watch. “Uh-

  oh—it's already three-thirty. We'd better hurry,

  because this time of year it starts getting dark at five.

  We don't want it to be dark when we're coming back.”

  Breathing hard, the four girls hurried along the trail.

  Soon, it opened into a snowy meadow that sloped down

  a hill. Nancy could feel the wind blowing against her

  back, ruffling her hair below her woolen cap.

  A howl cut the air. Jenny stopped abruptly. Glancing

  back at the others, she put a finger to her lips.

  “Wolves!” she whispered.

  Nancy looked ahead. Down in the hollow about half

  a mile away, five grayish brown forms had congregated

  in a circle, their muzzles pointing toward the sky. A

  wolf pack.

  The howling started again. “That might mean they're

  about to hunt for prey,” Jenny murmured.

  The girls' expressions were tense. The wind was

  b
lowing downhill, and in seconds the wolves would

  know the girls were there!

  13. Five Small Clues

  “Don't panic!” Jenny said in a low voice.

  “The thought hadn't occurred to me,” Bess said

  dryly. Her hand shook as she pushed a wisp of blond

  hair under her blue knit cap.

  “Do you think the wolves are dangerous?” Nancy

  asked.

  “I don't know,” Jenny replied. “Wild wolves have

  never attacked a human, at least as far as anyone

  knows. But I don't want to experiment.”

  Sniffing the wind, the wolves suddenly turned in the

  girls' direction.

  “Oh no.” Jenny breathed out in a whoosh, her eyes

  wide with fear. The biggest wolf had broken out of the

  circle, leading the rest of the pack as they loped slowly

  but purposefully toward the girls.

  “Take off your snowshoes and get up in that tree!”

  Jenny ordered, pointing to a large spruce tree beside

  them.

  As the four girls fumbled to undo their bindings, the

  wolves gained on them. Nancy's fingers felt stiff and

  awkward as she tried to work fast, but she could

  already see the alpha wolf's tongue hanging from his

  muzzle and his fierce, determined yellow eyes.

  “I can't get this,” Bess moaned, desperately trying to

  undo her bindings.

  As Nancy leaned over to help Bess, a distant whine

  filled the air. The girls froze, listening. It instantly grew

  louder.

  About fifty feet away, the wolves stopped, their ears

  pricked forward.

  “What's that noise?” Bess asked.

  “A snowmobile,” Jenny replied.

  As the powerful whir of the snowmobile's engine

  deafened them, the wolves skittered backward a few

  steps. Then, as if they were part of a choreographed

  dance number, they whirled in unison and fled. Their

  long, slender legs gracefully leaped over the snow, their

  paws spraying glistening white crystals.

  “They are so cool,” George said above the grinding

  motor. “And that snowmobile is so obnoxious.”

  “But you have to admit, George—it came along at

  the right moment,” Bess shouted. “Those wolves may

  be beautiful, but I'm just as happy not to be wolf

  casserole.”

  Seconds later a red snowmobile with a yellow

  lightning bolt decal on its hood appeared over the rise

  of the hill and zoomed toward them. Its driver wore a