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