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    Nate the Great and the Stolen Base


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      READ ALL THESE

      NATE THE GREAT DETECTIVE STORIES

      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 Denise 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 © 1992 by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat

      Cover art and interior illustrations © 1992 by Marc Simont

      Extra Fun Activities copyright © 2006 by Emily Costello

      Extra Fun Activities illustrations copyright © 2006 by Laura Hart

      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.

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

      Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/kids

      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 978-0-385-37689-1 — Trade paperback ISBN 978-0-440-40932-8

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

      v3.1

      For my father, Nathan “nate” Weinman,

      and with appreciation to all the Nathans everywhere

      who feel a special bond with Nate the Great

      Contents

      Cover

      Other Books by This Author

      Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      First Page

      Extra Fun Activities

      About the Author

      I, Nate the Great, am a detective.

      Sometimes I’m a baseball player.

      This morning I was a detective

      and a baseball player.

      My dog, Sludge, and I

      went to the field.

      I had to practice batting

      and running and fielding.

      I belong to a team.

      ROSAMOND’S RANGERS.

      Rosamond, Annie, Harry,

      Oliver, Esmeralda, Claude,

      Finley, and Pip belong too.

      They were at the field.

      Rosamond’s four cats were there.

      They are the team’s mascots.

      Annie’s dog Fang was there.

      Fang is not on the team.

      He is not a mascot.

      Fang should have stayed home.

      Rosamond came up to me.

      “We can’t practice today,” she said.

      “Somebody stole second base.”

      “We can get another second base,”

      I said. I bent down

      and picked up a big stone.

      “A stone for second base?”

      Rosamond said.

      “Not while I’m coach.

      Everybody uses stones.

      Rosamond’s Rangers do not.”

      Rosamond is a strange coach.

      That was no surprise.

      Rosamond is a strange person.

      She said, “When we play

      baseball, I bring first base.

      Oliver brings second base.

      And Annie brings third base.”

      Rosamond held up a

      large tuna fish can.

      “Here’s today’s first base.

      Nobody stole it.”

      Annie held up a large dog bone.

      “Here’s today’s third base,” she said.

      “Nobody ate it.”

      Fang and Sludge sniffed.

      Oliver said,

      “I was going to bring

      the same base I brought yesterday.

      But somebody stole it.

      It was the best.”

      I, Nate the Great, did not think

      Oliver’s second base was the best.

      It was an octopus

      made of gloopy purple plastic.

      Oliver collects eels.

      He is saving up

      for a real octopus.

      “We need a detective to find

      my second base,” he said.

      “Make another octopus,” I said.

      Oliver was mad.

      “You think it’s easy to make

      those long, curling arms?” he said.

      “Besides, that was

      my good-luck octopus.”

      “Very well. I, Nate the Great,

      will take the case.”

      I knew what Oliver’s

      octopus looked like.

      It had eight long, curling arms.

      It looked oozy and slimy.

      “Where do you keep

      your octopus?” I asked.

      “On my bookcase,” Oliver said.

      “But when I went to get it

      this morning, it wasn’t there.”

      “We must go to your house,” I said.

      I wrote a note to my mother.

      I left the note at my house.

      Then Sludge, Oliver, and I

      went to Oliver’s house.

      He lives next door.

      He took us to his room.

      I saw his bookcase.

      It was full of books.

      So far, so good.

      But it was squeezed

      in a corner between the wall

      and a huge tank of eels.

      And the top of it was a mess.

      It was covered

      with baseball things.

      Cards, gloves, balls, and bats.

      “I’ve got so much stuff

      on my bookcase

      that some of it falls

      to the floor,”

      Oliver said.

      “But I pick it right up.”

      “This is a real mess,” I said.

      “Your octopus must

      be hidden under something

      on top of your bookcase.”

      I, Nate the Great,

      moved things,

      piled things,

      and so
    rted things.

      Sludge sniffed.

      “I have just found

      something important,” I said.

      “What?” Oliver asked.

      “A telephone. It was hidden

      under two baseball gloves.

      And the cord is still hidden.”

      “The cord goes down the back

      of the bookcase

      and plugs into the wall,”

      Oliver said.

      “It’s boring.

      But the telephone is nice.

      I like to call people.”

      “I know it,” I said.

      Oliver is a pest.

      He follows people.

      He calls people.

      At last I said,

      “I do not see the octopus

      on your bookcase.”

      “So you can’t find it either,”

      Oliver said.

      “On is only one place to look,”

      I said. “In is another.”

      I looked in Oliver’s eel tank.

      “Your octopus did not fall

      in there,” I said.

      “Perhaps it fell

      down one side

      of your bookcase.”

      “But my bookcase

      is squeezed between

      the eel tank on one side

      and the wall on the other,”

      Oliver said.

      “I, Nate the Great,

      need a flashlight.”

      Oliver gave me a flashlight.

      I flashed the light down

      both sides of the bookcase.

      “The octopus did not slip through,”

      I said.

      “So you struck out,” Oliver said.

      “No. There is one more place

      to look. Perhaps your octopus

      fell down the back

      of the bookcase.”

      “But you can’t get

      back there,”

      Oliver said.

      “No problem. I, Nate the Great,

      can peer over the top.”

      I leaned forward.

      “Ouch!”

      I bumped my head.

      “The wall is in the way,”

      I said. “I can’t see down.”

      I stretched out flat

      on the floor

      in front of the bookcase.

      “Now what are you doing?”

      Oliver asked.

      “I am flashing the flashlight

      toward the floor at the back

      of your bookcase,” I said.

      I, Nate the Great,

      saw something.

      I reached for it

      and pulled it out.

      It was not the octopus.

      It was a baseball card.

      “So that’s where my

      Babe Ruth card went!”

      Oliver said.

      “I, Nate the Great, say

      that your octopus did not fall

      down the back of your bookcase.”

      I walked around the room.

      I looked hard.

      “I do not see the octopus

      anywhere in this room,”

      I said. “When was the last time

      you saw it?”

      Oliver shrugged. “I’m not sure.

      When I got home

      from the game yesterday,

      I pulled it out

      of my pocket

      and dumped it on my bookcase

      with my other baseball stuff.”

      “Then what?”

      “Then I used my telephone.

      I called everybody I know.”

      “I believe it,” I said.

      “Then I went out and

      followed people

      for the rest of the day.”

      “I believe that too,” I said.

      “What did you do last night?”

      “I slept,” Oliver said.

      I, Nate the Great,

      was getting nowhere.

      Oliver said, “This morning

      when I went to get my octopus,

      I couldn’t find it.”

      “Has anyone else

      been in this room?”

      I asked.

      “Only my eels,” Oliver said.

      “Then I, Nate the Great,

      must go out and

      look for clues.”

      “I will follow you,”

      Oliver said.

      “Stay by your telephone,” I said.

      Sludge and I went back

      to the baseball field.

      “The octopus was second base

      in yesterday’s game,”

      I said to Sludge.

      “Perhaps there’s a clue here.”

      I saw Rosamond standing

      under a tree with her cats.

      “I just tossed my baseball mitt

      into the air,” she said.

      “But it came down

      on a branch of this tree

      and it’s stuck there.”

      I looked up.

      I saw the mitt

      on a branch.

      “My cats can go up

      and shake it down,”

      Rosamond said.

      “My cats are smart.

      If Oliver’s octopus

      wasn’t made of plastic,

      they could find it.

      An octopus is something

      like a tuna fish, isn’t it?”

      I, Nate the Great,

      did not want

      to think about that.

      I walked over

      to where second base

      had been.

      I kicked the dirt around.

      I saw something long

      and curling

      and oozy and slimy-looking.

      It was one arm of Oliver’s

      octopus.

      Oliver’s octopus had eight arms.

      I had found one.

      I had solved one eighth

      of this case.

      “Look for more octopus arms,”

      I said to Sludge.

      Sludge and I walked

      around the field.

      The Sludge ran ahead.

      He sniffed.

      He stopped.

      He brought me another octopus arm.

      “Good work, Sludge,” I said.

      We kept looking.

      But we could not find

      any more octopus arms.

      Sludge and I went home.

      We had to think about the case.

      I made pancakes for myself.

      I gave Sludge a bone.

      “We are looking for

      a purple plastic octopus

      with six arms,”

      I said. “Or maybe less.

      When Oliver took

      the octopus home

      from the last game,

      he dumped everything

      on his bookcase.

      He did not notice that

      two arms were missing.

      What else didn’t he notice?”

      I went to the telephone.

      I called Oliver.

      He answered right away.

      “Who did you follow

      before you went home

      from yesterday’s game?” I asked.

      “Annie,” he said.

      “And your octopus was in

      your pocket, right?”

      “Right,” Oliver said.

      “Thank you,” I said.

      I hung up.

      “We must go to Annie’s house,”

      I said to Sludge.

      Annie was sitting in front

      with Fang.

      “I am looking for

      octopus arms,” I said.

      I looked at Fang.

      I did not want to do that.

      “Your dog will eat almost anything,”

      I said. “Like second base.”

      “Why would he eat

      gloopy purple plastic?” Annie said.

      She held up a dog bone.

      “This is third base

      and Fang di
    dn’t eat it.

      I’m very proud of him.”

      Fang wagged his tail.

      “But Fang isn’t perfect,”

      Annie said.

      That was no surprise to me,

      Nate the Great.

      Fang stopped wagging.

      Annie said, “When Oliver

      followed me after the last game,

      Fang followed Oliver.

      I think Fang snatched

      some of the octopus

      from Oliver’s pocket.”

      “Aha!” I said. “So second base

      was stolen after all.”

      “Fang only took

      one octopus arm,”

      Annie said. “And here it is.”

      Annie handed a very dirty

      octopus arm to me.

      “I just found this

      in my yard,” she said.

      “Fang buried it there.”

      “Did Oliver see the snatch?”

      I asked.

      “No,” Annie said.

      “He was too busy following me.”

      “So Oliver’s octopus

      is missing three arms

      and maybe more,

      and Oliver doesn’t know it,”

      I said.

      I said good-bye to Annie.

      “This case is as good as solved,”

      I said to Sludge.

      “All we need to find

      are a few more octopus arms.”

      We went to Oliver’s house.

      Oliver was talking

      on the telephone.

      Oliver kept talking.

      I knew what I must do:

      Get down on the floor.

      Reach under the bookcase.

      And unplug the telephone

      from the wall.

      But when I had looked

      under there for the octopus,

      I did not see the plug

      or the cord.

      They must have been

      too high up.

      I had to think of something else.

      “HANG UP!” I shouted.

      It worked.

      Oliver hung up.

      I held up the three octopus arms.

      “I, Nate the Great, found these.

      The case is in good shape.

     


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