The Potato Chip Puzzles: The Puzzling World of Winston Breen by Eric Berlin

out the moment. Then he said, “Okay. Get back to your cars and check your computers in about five minutes. And good luck to all of you!”
    He had to shout this last bit over the explosive din of dozens of people all scrambling for the exit at the same time. There was no reason to run, but it was hard not to get swept up in the excitement. The clock was ticking down, and the game was about to begin!
    “All right, stay close,” said Mr. Garvey.
    Office workers who had nothing to do with the contest threw themselves against the walls as a flood of kids suddenly filled the hallway. A businessman in a three-piece suit coming through the front doors was frozen in shock as the chaotic crowd rumbled toward him. He leapt to one side like a stuntman in an action movie, and gawked in amazement at the passing riot.
    The kids and their teachers flooded out into the parking lot. Mr. Garvey said to Jake, who was holding the mini computer, “Turn that thing on, see if we get anything.”
    Winston knew that only a couple of minutes had gone by and the game would not have started yet. But he understood Mr. Garvey’s impatience. Jake pressed the power button as he walked.
    “ Teedly-teedly-TEE! ” said the computer.
    “Nothing,” said Jake. “Same message as before.”
    They approached Mr. Garvey’s blue car. As they waited for their teacher to unlock it, Rod Denham walked by them with his students. “So these are your boys, eh, Garvey?” He had a politician’s grin on his fleshy face. It was the smile you wear when you don’t particularly like what you’re smiling at.
    Mr. Garvey, for a moment, looked like a small, tense dog, one who isn’t sure whether to run or fight back. But he finally put on a similar smile and said, “Ah, logic was always your strong suit.”
    Mr. Denham’s grin only got wider. He looked at Winston and his friends. “Good luck today, boys! You’ve got some serious competition out there.”
    “So do you,” said Mal.
    Mr. Denham laughed. His students didn’t. They were sizing up the competition, their arms crossed, their expressions carefully neutral. The three of them looked like they had nothing in common—they were a freckle-faced girl, a tall but overweight boy, and a second boy who, with his thick glasses and oily hair, was almost a cartoon version of a math nerd. But somehow they gave off the impression that they were a team, a real team, organized and well-prepared, ready to work together as effortlessly as the gears in a clock. Winston hoped he and his friends looked half as serious.
    “All right,” said Mr. Denham. “Let’s go, people.” His team climbed into Mr. Denham’s car, which was nearly as long as a motorboat. Around them in the parking lot, Winston could hear the sounds of people turning on their computers, hoping that the game had started.
    Jake climbed into the passenger seat this time, so Winston and Mal got into the back.
    “That man is very hard to take,” said Mr. Garvey, getting into the driver’s seat.
    “He’s used to winning,” said Jake.
    Mr. Garvey glanced at him, perhaps surprised by this observation. “You’re right. He is. How did you know?”
    Jake shrugged. “I’ve seen baseball coaches with that same expression. Not just confidence, but—”
    “Yes,” said their teacher. “Certainty. He knows he’s going to win.
    That wouldn’t be so bad, except he does, all the time. Drives me crazy.”
    “We can tell,” Mal said in a low voice.
    If Mr. Garvey heard that last comment, he chose to ignore it. He said, “Try that thing again, will you?”
    Jake fiddled with the computer. Winston closed his eyes in an attempt to block out that opening sound effect.
    “Hey! I got something new,” Jake said.
    Mr. Garvey’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Read what it says. Where are we going first?”
    “Hang on,” Jake said, pushing buttons. “Okay. Puzzle one is at the Burstein Space Museum. Oh, hey! We get in free when we show them this