thrown in the bushes back of where Markie sat. One of them had accidentally kicked Markie's orange folder so that his homework papers, held together with a red paper clip, fell out of the folder while he was telling Todd DeClouet about the new tires on his bicycle and how well they gripped in dirt, although not as well as he'd thought they might.
And Markie ran to the front bushes and sure enough, his homework was there. Exactly where Mudshark had said it would be.
Annie Shaw had unfortunately eaten the Anchovy—GrapeJelly Turnover Surprise in the cafeteria and asked Mudshark what to do.
He told her she needed to lie quietly until the spins stopped and that she should go to the school nurse right this very minute because the nurse's car insurance payments had been reduced since she never drove over eleven miles an hour, and she would be in such a good mood that she'd give Annie a pass to miss class, even though she usually held the passes back like they were made of gold.
Her
gold. From her teeth.
And Mudshark knew all this because he had overheard the nurse on the phone and seen her car insurance papers on her desk when he'd given her his updated immunization record.
He also knew that there was serious talk about the cook being sent to a Quiet Place for an Indeterminate Time if her recipes didn't start becoming less … creative. The nurse was alarmed. Every day there was a line of pale and shaky students sitting in her waiting room, clutching small pails and groaning.
The cool thing about Mudshark was that he not only
had
information, he knew how to
use
it.
One day he came back to his locker to discover that somebody had taped a sign to it:
THE MUDSHARK DETECTIVE AGENCY
Problems solved and
items found
He smiled and straightened the sign so it was perfectly level.
This is the principal . Would the custodian please report to the cafeteria with a shovel and a bucket and some extra-strength, reinforced garbage bags? And would those people late for assembly refrain from being late in the future? And if you see the gerbil, would you please try to herd it toward room two oh six?
One of the Death Ball players was a boy named Risdon Risdon. His first and last name were the same, it was said, because his father had also played a lot of Death Ball when he was young and had gotten too used to hearing every call repeated.
Risdon Risdon lost his right shoe while walking down the hallway and had continued walking for quite some time before discovering that (a) he didn't have a shoe and (b) he had no idea where he was going in the first place.
Hard-core Death Ball players were always losing articles of apparel and getting lost because they didn't pay much attention to anything besides the game. But Risdon Risdon was a legend in his own time because he had once failed to find the cafeteria while both double doors were open and people were yelling at him as he walked past.
Somehow, though, Risdon Risdon knew enough to go looking for Mudshark in the library, where so many important things happened.
Mudshark looked up from his book in surprise as Risdon Risdon limped over to him. It was of course nothing short of astonishing that Risdon Risdon was in the library in the first place, considering that Death Ball players spent all their free time during the school day in the cafeteria hunched over notebooks, tinkering with the brackets for the play-offs and carb-loading for strength and endurance.
Risdon Risdon glared down at his feet and bellowed, “Yo, Mud! My shoe is not here. On my right foot, dude. It escaped or something. Got any idea what happened to it? 'Cause I can't go to practice without both shoes.”
Mudshark knew that Risdon Risdon's shoe was by locker seventy-four on the right side of the hallway, where Mudshark had seen it flop, toe in to the wall, after third period when Risdon Risdon had become mesmerized by the sight of Amanda Gatto's gleaming hair and had tripped.
Risdon Risdon shuffled off to retrieve his
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