Ballpark Mysteries #12: The Rangers Rustlers Read online

  #1 The Fenway Foul-Up

  #2 The Pinstripe Ghost

  #3 The L.A. Dodger

  #4 The Astro Outlaw

  #5 The All-Star Joker

  #6 The Wrigley Riddle

  #7 The San Francisco Splash

  #8 The Missing Marlin

  #9 The Philly Fake

  #10 The Rookie Blue Jay

  #11 The Tiger Troubles

  #12 The Rangers Rustlers

  Also by David A. Kelly

  Babe Ruth and the Baseball Curse

  This book is dedicated to the parents who have volunteered their time and energy to help coach. Good coaches make good kids. —D.A.K.

  For Roberta—thank you for all of your help and support. —M.M.

  “One of the beautiful things about baseball is that every once in a while you come into a situation where you want to, and where you have to, reach down and prove something.” —Nolan Ryan, Texas Rangers pitcher

  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 © 2016 by David A. Kelly Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2016 by Mark Meyers

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC. Ballpark Mysteries® is a registered trademark of Upside Research, Inc.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Kelly, David A.

  The Rangers rustlers / by David A. Kelly ; illustrated by Mark Meyers.

  p. cm.—(Ballpark mysteries ; 12)

  “A Stepping Stone Book.”

  Summary: Cousins Mike and Kate set out to catch the person who is selling counterfeit baseball shirts in the Texas Rangers’ ballpark.

  ISBN 978-0-385-37881-9 (trade)—ISBN 978-0-385-37882-6 (lib. bdg.)—

  [1. Baseball—Fiction. 2. Texas Rangers (Baseball team)—Fiction. 3. Counterfeits and counterfeiting—Fiction. 4. Cousins—Fiction. 5. Arlington (Tex.)—Fiction.

  6. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Meyers, Mark, illustrator. II. Title.

  PZ7.K2936Ran 2016 [Fic]—dc23 2014044368

  eBook ISBN 9780385378833

  This book has been officially leveled by using the F&P Text Level Gradient™ Leveling System.

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

  v4.1

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  Also by David A. Kelly

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Chapter 1: Mike’s Big Idea

  Chapter 2: Stolen Shirts!

  Chapter 3: A Ring of Rustlers

  Chapter 4: A Surprising Change

  Chapter 5: A Stampede!

  Chapter 6: A Crazy Plan

  Chapter 7: A Box Score!

  Chapter 8: A Cowgirl to the Rescue

  Chapter 9: A Surprise Signing

  Dugout Notes

  “Hey, Kate, I got it! I got it!” Mike Walsh called to his cousin Kate Hopkins. He waved a blue and red T-shirt over his head and ran to catch up with her.

  Mike and Kate were in Arlington, Texas, to see a Texas Rangers baseball game with Kate’s mom. Mike dodged past the fans crowding the sidewalk outside the stadium until he reached Kate and her mom. “Ta-da!” he said as he held up the T-shirt.

  “You finally found a Rangers shirt!” Kate said as she examined it. “You’ve been looking all over for one.”

  Mike and Kate had spent the previous day sightseeing in nearby Dallas. At each stop, Mike had scoured souvenir stores for Texas Rangers shirts. But nobody had any. The salesclerks all said they were having problems getting them.

  “Look! It’s even got a hologram on the label,” Mike said. He pointed to the sales tag. The label had a 3-D imprint of a baseball player. “That means it’s a real Rangers shirt. I knew I’d find one!”

  “Well, that’s good. I’m glad you got your Texas Rangers souvenir,” Kate’s mom said. “Now let’s go find our seats!”

  Mike waved the T-shirt in a circle, like a lasso. “Woo-hoo! Let’s go!” he yelled as he galloped toward the stadium. “Round ’em up, Rangers!”

  The heat from the early-afternoon sun reflected off the sidewalk as Mike, Kate, and Mrs. Hopkins found their way to the stadium gates. As they pushed through the turnstiles, Mike looked confused.

  “Isn’t it a bobblehead game?” he asked. “Aren’t we supposed to get a free bobblehead?”

  “No,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “We’ll get a Nolan Ryan bobblehead at tomorrow night’s game.”

  “But you have to be wearing something Western in order to get one,” said the ticket taker. “Like a cowboy hat or a Western shirt.”

  “We can do that!” Mike said.

  After getting through the gate, they walked to their seats. As soon as Mike and Kate sat down, Mike pointed to a four-story office building behind center field. It had windows and porches that looked down on the baseball field and big signs along its top. “Hey, if I have to work in an office when I grow up, I want to work there,” he said. “I could watch every game from work!”

  Mrs. Hopkins laughed. “Yes, you could, Mike,” she said. “But you might not get much done.” She checked her watch. “Now that you two are settled, I’ve got to get up to the pressroom. I’ll see you after the game. Have fun!”

  Mrs. Hopkins was a sports reporter for the website American Sportz. She often took Mike and Kate with her when she traveled for work. The kids waved goodbye as Mrs. Hopkins walked up the aisle.

  Shortly after she left, Mike popped out of his seat. “Oh no!” he cried. He searched one pocket after another.

  “What’s wrong?” Kate asked.

  “I can’t find the ten-dollar bill Grandma gave me for my birthday!” Mike said. He turned the front pockets of his shorts inside out and shook his head.

  “But what’s that?” Kate asked. She pointed to a bill in Mike’s right hand. “That looks like a ten to me!”

  Mike slumped into his seat and handed Kate the bill. “It is,” he said. “It’s just not the one that Grandma gave me. She had written Happy birthday, Mike! on the front. I was saving it, but I must have used it to buy the T-shirt by mistake! I gave the man two ten-dollar bills. One of them must have been the one from Grandma!”

  Kate handed the ten-dollar bill back to Mike. “Sorry,” she said. “But at least you got a cool shirt for it. And don’t worry—maybe you’ll get another one from Grandma next year!”

  Mike sighed and nodded. He sat back and stared at the field. A few baseball players were stretching near the dugouts. Mike pulled the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. The patches of freckles on his face stood out even more in the bright sunshine.

  Kate’s and Mike’s seats were one section up from the field and directly behind home plate. It was close to game time, and most of the seats were filled with Rangers fans. Many wore red or blue shirts. But here and there were some patches of green and gold worn by fans of the opposing team, the Oakland A’s.
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  Kate nudged Mike and pointed to the third row. “Look, two empty seats,” she said. “Let’s try to sneak up to them!”

  “Okay,” Mike said. “It’s weird that they’re empty, but let’s give it a try!”

  Mike looked around. The usher at the top of the steps was busy helping a family. At the bottom of the steps, a tall man in a white cowboy hat and sunglasses was leaning against the railing. He seemed to be searching the crowd for someone. The coast was clear!

  “If we can do it, maybe I’ll be close enough to get one of the players to sign my baseball or my new shirt,” Mike said. He held up the baseball he had brought from home. “And this will give us the perfect way to sneak up into those seats.”

  Mike sat in his seat and tossed the ball back and forth between his hands. On the fifth toss, he let the ball slip through his right hand. It flew over Kate’s lap and bounced down the cement steps of the stadium toward the field.

  Mike stood up. “Quick! Help me get my ball,” he said to Kate in a loud voice as he pointed to the front of the section. Kate jumped up, and they scrambled down the steps. They followed the ball as it bounced down the steps. Mike grabbed it before it reached the lowest step. Then he and Kate ducked into the empty seats in the third row.

  They pretended to rest from chasing the ball. Mike handed the ball to Kate. She held it up as if to examine it but glanced around to make sure no one had seen them sneak into the better seats.

  Mike leaned over and extended his fist. Kate smiled and gave him a fist bump.

  “Score!” he said.

  Kate relaxed into her seat. “We did it!”

  Mike tapped his forehead with his finger. “That’s because I thought up a great plan.”

  Kate nodded. “It was a good plan,” she said. “But I’m surprised, because your great plans usually involve food!”

  Before Mike could respond, a strong hand clenched their shoulders and squeezed hard.

  “What’s the big idea there, pardners?”

  Mike and Kate struggled to free themselves. But the hands on their shoulders only squeezed harder.

  “Naaace try, y’all,” said a deep voice with a thick Texas accent. “But ah think these ain’t your seats.”

  The squeezing stopped. Mike and Kate swung around. Standing behind them was the tall man in the cowboy hat who had been standing at the bottom of the aisle.

  The cowboy took off his sunglasses and glared down at them. He wore blue jeans, a leather belt with a big star buckle, and a crisp white cowboy shirt with pearl buttons. In one side of his mouth, he clenched a wooden toothpick. He removed the toothpick and pointed it at Mike and Kate.

  “Follow me,” the cowboy said. He pointed to the landing at the top of the stairs. “We’ll talk up there.”

  Mike glanced at Kate. She handed him back his baseball and headed up the stairs after the cowboy. Mike followed.

  The cowboy stepped over to an open area near the top of the landing. He tilted his hat back and looked at Mike and Kate as they approached.

  “What’s the big idear, tryin’ to sneak into those seats?” the cowboy asked through clenched teeth.

  Kate’s head drooped. “We just thought we’d get closer to the players. I guess we shouldn’t have done that.”

  A big grin broke across the cowboy’s face. “Maybe dur’n another game, but not today.”

  The man squatted down. He pulled a leather wallet out of his pocket and flipped it open. Inside was a silver circle-shaped badge with a star in the middle. The words TEXAS RANGERS were on the bottom of the badge.

  “My name’s Jimmy,” the cowboy said. “And I’m a Texas Ranger.”

  “Hi,” Mike said. “I’m Mike, and this is my cousin Kate.” He glanced down at the players on the field. “If you’re a Ranger, shouldn’t you be down there with your team?” he asked.

  Jimmy laughed. “Not quite, pardner,” he said. “I’m the other kind of Texas Ranger—the original.”

  Mike raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “He means he’s a Ranger—a special type of police officer!” Kate said. “I read about them in a book I got from the library.” Kate’s mother took her to the library every week to get books. Before they went on trips, Kate always read about the city they were visiting.

  Jimmy nodded. “Bingo!” he said. “The Texas Rangers baseball team was actually named after us. Real Texas Rangers help solve crimes and keep the good people of Texas safe.”

  Jimmy pointed to a gray-haired man and woman in the second row of seats. They were sitting right in front of the empty seats that Mike and Kate had tried to sneak into. They were both wearing Rangers baseball hats.

  “Can y’all keep a secret?” Jimmy asked.

  Kate and Mike nodded.

  “Well, that there man used to be the president of the United States of America!”

  Kate gulped. “Really?” she asked.

  Jimmy nodded again. “Yes, ma’am. He’s watchin’ the game with his wife, and I’m here to protect them,” he said.

  “Wow! That’s almost cooler than being a baseball player!” Mike said. He took out his new T-shirt and a black marker from his back pocket. “Would you sign my new shirt? I was going to try to get a baseball player’s autograph. But it would be even cooler to have a real Texas Ranger sign my Texas Rangers shirt!”

  Jimmy smiled. “Sure,” he said.

  Mike handed the shirt and the black marker to Jimmy.

  Jimmy placed the shirt against the nearby wall to sign it. But he noticed the price tag hanging from the shirt’s neck.

  “Hmph!” Jimmy grunted. He wiggled the toothpick in his mouth, reached into his pocket, and took out his phone. He typed something into the phone and then held it up to the label of the T-shirt. The phone’s camera scanned the tag on the T-shirt.

  Beeeeep! Beeeeep!

  An alarm on the phone sounded, and a red light flashed on its screen. Jimmy checked the screen and slipped the phone into his pocket. He handed the marker back to Mike.

  “Just as a’uh suspected,” Jimmy said. “Ah’m sorry, Mike. I can’t sign the shirt.”

  But before Mike could take his T-shirt back, Jimmy folded it up neatly and tucked it under his arm.

  Mike’s eyes grew wide. “Hey, what are you doing?” he asked. “You can’t take that. It’s my shirt!”

  Jimmy shook his head. “I’m ’fraid I’m goin’ to have to hold on to this for evidence,” he said. “This here T-shirt is stolen property!”

  “What do you mean?” Mike asked. “My Rangers shirt can’t be stolen! I just bought it. Let me have it back!”

  Jimmy took the shirt out from under his arm and pointed to a string of numbers on the sales tag. “I just checked these numbers. This shirt was stolen from a truckful of Rangers souvenirs a few weeks ago. We’ve been tryin’ to catch the thieves for a while.”

  “I thought you were guarding the former president,” Mike said.

  Jimmy nodded. “Yessir, we are. But we’re also investigatin’ a ring of rustlers,” he said. “The rustlers have been stealin’ delivery trucks and takin’ everything in ’em.”

  Kate stepped forward. “Hey, wait,” she said. “I thought rustlers stole cattle, not shirts.”

  “Well, they used to,” Jimmy said. “But these days they’ll take anything they can make money on, like these shirts.”

  Jimmy tucked the shirt back under his arm and took a notepad and pen out of his pocket. “So, where’d you buy the shirt, Mike?” he asked.

  Mike studied his sneakers for a moment and then let out a long sigh. “Uhhh…just outside the ballpark,” he said. “There was a guy with a black backpack near the corner.”

  Jimmy wrote something on the notepad. “Sounds like one of the rustlers we’ve been looking for,” he said. “Can you remember anything about him? Like what he was wearin’ or what he looked like?”

  Mike scratched his head and thought. “Yeah. The guy had curly hair and a long, thin face,” he said. “He was w
earing a straw cowboy hat and a green shirt. The shirt had some type of gold logo on it. Like a star or something.”

  A roar went up from the crowd. Mike and Kate glanced at the field. The game had started!

  Jimmy snapped the notebook shut. “Thanks, that’s perfect,” he said. “I’ll be here for all the Rangers–Oakland A’s games. Just find me if you think of anything else or if y’all see that man again. Once we catch the varmints, you’ll get your shirt back.”

  Jimmy walked down the aisle and slipped into one of the two empty seats behind the former president.

  Mike put his hands into his pockets and scuffed his sneaker against the gray concrete floor. “It was bad enough that I gave Grandma’s ten-dollar bill to the T-shirt guy,” he said. “Now I don’t even have the shirt!”

  “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it right now,” Kate said. “Let’s go watch the game.”

  Kate turned and bounded down the stairs to their original seats. Mike followed slowly.

  By the top of the second inning, neither team had scored. The Rangers were on the field. The A’s were batting. They had two outs and a runner in scoring position at second. One of their best hitters, Jiggs Paterson, was at the plate with two balls and two strikes.

  Cliff Clinton, the Rangers pitcher, leaned forward and pulled the brim of his hat down. Behind the batter, the catcher signaled pitches with his fingers. But with a slight nod of his head, Cliff shook off one after another. Finally, the catcher signaled a pitch that Cliff liked.

  The Texas Rangers fans around Mike and Kate roared their support. They wanted that third out! Mike and Kate stood up and cheered with everyone else.

  Jiggs twisted his right foot in the dirt next to home plate to get a solid footing. He glared out at Cliff and took a few slow practice swings over the plate. The cheering grew louder.

  Cliff stared back at Jiggs and then, in a blur, went into his pitching motion. The ball snapped out of his fingers and hurled toward home.