Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Disgusting Sneakers by Donald J. Sobol Page B

time.
    “Are you sure it was Bugs?” Encyclopedia asked.
    “Of course I am,” Becky said. “How could I be mistaken? Bugs looks so much like himself.”
    Encyclopedia needed a second to shake that one off.
    Becky said, “I’d just bought the cup at the flea market. Bugs stopped me on my way home and faked me out.”
    She explained. At first Bugs had laughed and said he’d get her a violin to go with the cup. When Becky told him the cup might be valuable, he stopped laughing.
    “Bugs talked me into trading the cup for his crash course in etiquette,” Becky said. “He claimed that in a week I’d know how to use forty-three different pieces of silverware.”
    “When did Bugs learn to count to forty-three?” Encyclopedia said. “Besides, he wouldn’t know a fish fork from a lobster dancing.”
    Becky nodded ruefully. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
    She laid a quarter on the gas can beside Encyclopedia. “I want to hire you. Get back my cup.”
    “The first step,” Encyclopedia said, “is to go and see Bugs.”
    “You go,” Becky said. “Bugs might get mad and use me for a door knocker. That’s too much exercise for a small person like me.”
    It took some doing, but Encyclopedia got Becky to go along. She had to identify the cup.
    The Tigers’ clubhouse was an unused toolshed behind Mr. Sweeney’s Auto Body Shop. Bugs was alone. On an orange crate next to him was a white cup.
    “Th-There it is,” Becky said.
    Bugs growled, “Make like the Wright brothers and take off.”
    “Maybe we should let sleeping bugs lie,” Becky whispered nervously. “I only paid twenty cents for the cup.”
    “Stay close,” Encyclopedia whispered back. “I’ve dealt with Bugs before.”
    To the Tigers’ leader he said, “I heard about your course in etiquette.”
    Bugs sighed. “How rumors do get around! So many people have inquired about the course that I’m thinking of starting one. With us Tigers as teachers, the return of good manners to America would no longer be in doubt.”
    He picked up the white cup by the handle and daintily curled his little finger.
    “I’d teach you how to take tea with the President,” he said, glancing at Becky. “You’d be in demand everywhere.”
    “Spare me the society news,” Becky retorted, moving quickly behind Encyclopedia.“You fooled me with your phony course in etiquette. Hand over my cup!”

    “What cup?” Bugs said.
    “The one you’re holding,” Becky cried.
    Bugs’s nose went up as if seeking fresh air. “I’m afraid you’re quite mistaken, miss. This is
my
cup.”
    “You’re lying!” Becky screamed.
    Bugs looked pained. “My dear young lady, you are clearly in need of instruction. Never say, ‘You’re lying!’ Practice etiquette. Be polite.”
    Before Becky could say anything at all, Encyclopedia stepped in.
    “Where did you get the cup, Bugs?” he said.
    “From Fu Chee,” Bugs replied.
    “Who is he?” Becky snapped.
    “Fu Chee owned the Chinese restaurant on Fullerton Avenue,” Bugs answered.
    “The restaurant closed down last year,” Encyclopedia said. “It’s now a doughnut shop.”
    “True,” Bugs said sadly. “This was Fu Chee’s own teacup. He gave it to me when I ate at his restaurant the day before it closed.I was the only customer ever to finish his shrimp in lobster sauce without taking some home in a doggy bag. He said he’d never forget me.”
    “Encyclopedia, question Fu Chee,” Becky urged.
    “You better have the plane fare,” Bugs warned. “He moved to Utah.”
    Becky kicked the ground. “With Fu Chee gone, I can’t prove I’m telling the truth,” she whispered to Encyclopedia. “Darn it! Bugs outsmarted us.”
    “Bugs outsmarted himself,” Encyclopedia corrected. “Fu Chee didn’t give him the cup.”
    HOW DID ENCYCLOPEDIA KNOW?
    (Turn to this page for the solution to The Case of the Teacup.)

The Case of the Broken Vase
    B ugs Meany had one goal in life. It was to get even with