Nate the Great, San Francisco Detective Read online

  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

  Delacorte Press

  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 © 2000 by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Mitchell Sharmat New illustrations of Nate the Great, Sludge, Fang, Annie, Rosamond, the Hexes, and Claude by Martha Weston based upon the original drawings by Marc Simont

  Cover art and all other images copyright © 2000 by Martha Weston

  Extra Fun Activities text copyright © 2000 by Emily Costello

  Extra Fun Activities illustrations copyright © 2005 by Jody Wheeler

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York. Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Delacorte Press in 2000..

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

  Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at

  RHTeachersLibrarians.coms

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-385-37692-1

  Trade paperback ISBN: 978-0-440-41821-4

  Book design by Trish Parcell

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

  v3.1

  For our granddaughter

  Madeline Lucille Sharmat

  with much love

  —M.W.S.

  —M.S.

  For the Shopoffs,

  my San Francisco family

  —M.W.

  Contents

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One: Mr. Great

  Chapter Two: Calling Nate The Great

  Chapter Three: the End of The World

  Chapter Four: Joke Stew

  Chapter Five: Sticky, Icky Mess

  Chapter Six: the Golden Gate Clue

  Chapter Seven: Frozen Pancakes

  Chapter Eight: Lost in the Big City

  Chapter Nine: What’s Wrong is Right

  Chapter Ten: A Feathery Hug

  Extra Fun Activities

  About the Authors

  My name is Nate the Great.

  I am a detective.

  My dog, Sludge, is a detective too.

  This morning Sludge and I were

  at the airport in San Francisco.

  We were supposed to meet

  another detective there

  at ten o’clock.

  My cousin, Olivia Sharp.

  Olivia always wears a boa

  made of feathers.

  This makes her easy to find.

  Anywhere.

  But all we saw were strangers.

  And many people with signs.

  All at once, I, Nate the Great,

  saw a sign that said

  NATE THE GREAT

  in big letters.

  A man in uniform was holding it.

  He came up to us.

  “Mr. Great and Sludge?” he said.

  “I’m Willie. Miss Olivia’s chauffeur.

  She’s out on her eight o’clock case.

  It’s running late.

  She hasn’t even started

  her nine o’clock.”

  Willie picked up my suitcase.

  “Your limo is over there,” he said.

  “My limo?”

  “Yes. Miss Olivia always

  travels in a limo.

  But today she saved it for you.”

  I, Nate the Great, had never

  been in a limo.

  Sludge had never been in a limo.

  It was long and shiny.

  We got inside.

  Willie got in the front seat.

  And we were off.

  We drove up and down many hills.

  “Is everything all right

  back there, Mr. Great?” Willie asked.

  I looked at Sludge.

  He wagged his tail.

  “Fine,” I said.

  “But can you tell me about the case

  that’s making Olivia late?”

  “Her friend Duncan

  lost a joke book,” Willie said.

  “Miss Olivia is looking for it.”

  Willie drove us to Olivia’s house

  and let us in.

  A telephone was ringing.

  And ringing.

  This was a phone that

  needed to be answered.

  “Nate the Great for Olivia Sharp,”

  I said.

  “Hello, Nate.”

  It was Annie, from back home.

  “We all miss you,” she said.

  “And Fang has something to tell you.”

  I heard heavy breathing.

  I knew that Annie’s dog, Fang,

  was on the line.

  I was happy to be many miles away

  from his teeth.

  I waited.

  Fang had nothing else to say.

  Then I heard a strange voice.

  It belonged to Rosamond.

  “My turn. Bring back California fish

  for my cats. Lots of fish.

  All the fish you can carry.

  Over and out.”

  “I thank all of you

  for the call,” I said.

  Then I heard another voice.

  “Wait! It’s me, Claude.

  I lost something.”

  Claude was always losing something.

  “I lost an itsy bitsy seashell

  two years ago

  on the Golden Gate Bridge.

  Find it!”

  Claude hung up.

  The telephone rang again
.

  “Nate the Great for Olivia Sharp,”

  I said.

  “Hello. This is Duncan.

  It’s eleven o’clock

  and the world is coming to an end.”

  I, Nate the Great, hoped that

  this Duncan person did not have

  his information straight.

  “I need Olivia,” Duncan said.

  “Olivia is out,” I said.

  Duncan moaned.

  “Then the world

  is really coming to an end.”

  “Could you be more specific?” I asked.

  “Well,” said Duncan,

  “I lost my joke book.

  I have to tell a joke

  to a friend at two o’clock

  and I forget how it ends.”

  “Olivia is on your case,” I said.

  “Yes, I’m her case number twenty-two,”

  Duncan said.

  “But she is also working on cases number

  eighteen and number

  twenty-one at the same time.

  She’ll never solve mine

  by two o’clock.”

  I, Nate the Great, had never

  heard such a sad voice.

  “Very well,” I said. “I will also

  take your case.”

  I hung up.

  Then I called my mother.

  The answering machine came on.

  I said,

  Willie drove Sludge and me

  to Duncan’s house.

  “I will wait in the limo,” Willie said.

  I knocked on Duncan’s door.

  He answered it.

  Duncan looked even sadder

  than he sounded.

  His hair was hanging limp,

  his socks were drooping,

  and his jeans were slipping.

  Sludge and I walked inside.

  “I am Nate the Great,” I said.

  “And this is my assistant, Sludge.

  Tell us about your joke book.”

  “Well, I was in Booksie’s Bookstore

  yesterday,” Duncan said.

  “I saw this small book

  called Joke Stew.

  It was the only copy there.

  I bought it.

  I left the bookstore

  with the book in a Booksie’s bag.”

  “Then what did you do?”

  “I went to lots of other stores

  and bought things.

  Then I went to Perry’s Pancake House.”

  “A pancake house? Good thinking.”

  “Yes, Perry’s Pancake House has

  this big, big menu with five pages

  of different kinds of pancakes.

  I started to read the menu.

  The waiter came by.

  I ordered mushyberry pancakes.

  The waiter left.

  I kept reading the menu.

  Then I took out my joke book

  to find the perfect joke

  to tell today.

  I found it.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “The waiter brought the pancakes.”

  “Did you put the joke book

  back in its bag?”

  “I don’t remember,” Duncan said.

  “Because something bad happened.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Duncan looked down at his feet.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  “The world is coming to an end.”

  I, Nate the Great, wished this case

  were coming to an end.

  I said, “So the last place

  you saw your joke book

  was in the pancake house?”

  “Yes.”

  “It might still be there,” I said.

  I, Nate the Great,

  was sure of one thing.

  Pancakes were still there.

  Five pages of pancakes to choose from!

  “I will be back,” I said.

  Willie drove Sludge and me to

  Perry’s Pancake House.

  “Sniff around outside, Sludge,” I said.

  “Look for the joke book.”

  “I’ll help Sludge,” Willie said.

  I went inside the pancake house.

  It looked good, it smelled good.

  I walked up to a waiter.

  “I am looking for a small joke book

  titled Joke Stew,” I said.

  The waiter looked mad.

  “A girl was just here

  looking for it,” he said.

  “She was wrapped in feathers.

  Said she was a detective.

  She put up LOST JOKE BOOK signs

  everywhere.

  Here. There. Up and down the street.

  But we have no joke book.

  I know who lost it.

  Yesterday this boy came in.

  I served him mushyberry pancakes.

  He knocked the syrup bottle

  over everything.

  The pancakes, the menu, the table.

  Ugh!

  I scooped up all the sticky stuff

  and dumped it in a bag.

  I handed the bag to him.

  I told him that somewhere out there

  a hungry family of ants or flies

  would love this sticky, icky mess.”

  The waiter was getting madder.

  I, Nate the Great, knew that I

  had to leave the pancake house

  without eating.

  I did not want to do that.

  But I went outside.

  Sludge and Willie were standing there.

  “We didn’t find the joke book,” Willie said.

  “We looked in front.

  Then Sludge went out back.

  He found garbage cans.

  He looked in them.

  Isn’t that the wrong place to look

  for a joke book?”

  “Well, a good detective knows

  that sometimes the wrong place

  is the right place,” I said.

  “Smart dog,” Willie said.

  Willie, Sludge, and I got into the limo.

  I liked this limo.

  It was a good place to think

  and to drive around

  to see San Francisco.

  I, Nate the Great, was thinking.

  I was not having any luck

  with Duncan’s case.

  I had not found his joke book.

  I had not found Claude’s seashell either.

  Perhaps that was because

  I had not looked for it.

  “To the Golden Gate Bridge,

  please,” I said to Willie.

  “A fine bridge, Mr. Great,” Willie said.

  When we got there,

  Sludge and I peered out the window.

  The Golden Gate Bridge

  was very, very big.

  Claude’s seashell was

  very, very small.

  This was not going to help Claude.

  But suddenly I, Nate the Great,

  knew that it might help Duncan!

  “I have a Golden Gate clue,”

  I said to Willie.

  “Onward to Duncan’s house!”

  Duncan was waiting for us.

  “I know all about the spilled syrup,”

  I said. “What did you do with the bag

  the waiter gave you?”

  “I put it in the freezer,” Duncan said.

  “I like frozen pancakes.”

  “Did you open the bag first?”

  “No, it was too icky and sticky.”

  I put my hand on Duncan’s shoulder.

  “I, Nate the Great, know

  where your joke book is.

  It is in your freezer!”

  “Oh, cool!” Duncan said.

  Was that a joke?

  Never mind.

  “I, Nate the Great, say

>   you were reading the menu.

  But you were also reading your joke book.

  The menu was big. The book was small.

  So the book must have slid

  or fallen into the pages of the menu.

  Before or while the syrup spilled.

  The waiter scooped everything up fast

  and put it all in a take-out bag.”

  “You are a good detective,” Duncan said.

  “Even if you don’t put up signs.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  “Olivia has her way. I have mine.”

  I opened the freezer.

  I saw the bag.

  I took it out.

  I opened it.

  It was full of cold, crusty, icky things.

  Pancakes, napkins, the top

  from a syrup container,

  a little tub of butter,

  a huge menu …

  but no joke book!

  “The joke book isn’t here,” I said.

  “The world is definitely

  coming to an end, correct?”

  Duncan looked down at his feet.

  “Correct,” he said. “I need my book

  at two o’clock. And it’s after twelve now.”

  “Do not lose hope,” I said.

  “That is the worst thing to lose.”

  I sat down.

  “I, Nate the Great, need pancakes.

  Sludge needs a bone.

  They help us think.”

  “Have a frozen pancake,” Duncan said.

  “Thaw it,” I said.

  “I don’t thaw,” Duncan said.

  “Very well,” I said.

  “A frozen pancake is

  better than no pancake at all.

  But give Sludge a nice bone.”

  I ate a frozen mushyberry pancake.

  It did not help me think.

  Except about my cold teeth.

  “What happened after you left

  the pancake house?” I asked.

  “Well, I had lots of bags.

  I dropped them outside

  the pancake house.

  Then I picked them up