an old steamer trunk
a howling beast
roasted garlic meatballs
Scooter Spies Max, Oscar, and Lily (and her pet chameleon, Speck) are up to their necks in mud in their latest case, The Ghost That Barked. While practicing their moves at a construction site, the scooter riders uncover a mysterious old steamer trunk -- and hear a wild howl in the night
A blue paw print leads the three friends directly into a daring museum escape, a secret scooter ride across town, and smack into a giant mountain of goopy, gloppy mud!
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November 28, 2000
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Excerpt from The Ghost that Barked by Michael Dahl
Thunder rumbled over the town of Metroville. Oscar felt the aftershocks as they shivered through the tires of his scooter and shook its handlebars. Lightning flashed like a gigantic lightbulb flickering in a gigantic socket. No rain had fallen on the deserted construction site, but Oscar felt the air around him dense with moisture from the nearby Gulf.
"Let's go before the storm hits," he yelled to his friends.
"One more time!" Lily Blue shouted. She balanced on her black-and-gold Stingray scooter at the top of a mountain of loose dirt. Max Martin, his blond hair flashing white in the lightning, stood behind her.
"Go! Go! Go!" urged Max.
Lily's Stingray perched at the end of a wooden plank that the three of them had found in another comer of the construction site and placed on the dirt as a jumping-off ramp. Lily looked back at Max and smiled. Then she gripped the handlebars of her scooter, lowered her head, and kicked off with all her might. She leaped off the end of the plank and into space.
Lily felt the blood race to her head. Wind ripped past her. Lighting flashed and showed the floor of the construction pit rushing up to meet her. With a scream and a grunt she landed at the foot of the mountain in a soft slope of dirt.
"Touchdown!" Lily yelled.
"This place might be a parking ramp next year," said Max. "But for now it's an airstrip!"
The three friends had visited the construction site for the past three nights, after the construction workers had gone home. They took turns flying off the top of the dirt mountain, practicing flips and 360-degree spins. The touchdown site was a smaller mound of dirt at the foot of the mountain. It was the softest spot in the site. With each landing, their scooter tires and sneakers dug deeper and deeper into the soft soil.
Lily hurled herself backward off her black-and-gold Stingray, spread her arms wide, and plopped in the dirt.