The Case of the Missing Dinosaur Egg by Martha Freeman Page A

Basin the cherry trees were blossoming. What I really wanted to do was go play outside with my dog, but instead I was cooped up with a bunch of ancient bones and grown-ups at the National Museum of Natural History.
    Don’t get me wrong. I like the museum, and I like dinosaurs. But when you’re the kid of the president of the United States, like I am, you spend a little too much time being quiet and polite.
    With no choice, I shook the wiggles out of my shoulders, resettled my posterior into the chair and tried to listen. The speaker’s name was Professor Cordell Bohn, and he was a paleontologist—pronounced “pay-lee-un-TALL-uh-jist”—which is a person who studies long-ago plants and animals, like dinosaurs.
    â€œMost people are surprised to learn that fossilized dinosaur eggs are reasonably common in many locations around the world,” Professor Bohn was saying. “What’s unique in this case, uh . . . unique—”
    Professor Bohn stopped, looked down at the egg and raised his eyebrows. Was he listening to something?
    A few seconds passed, nothing happened and Professor Bohn tried again.
    â€œAs I was saying, this find may help us better understand the link between dinosaurs and modern-day birds. We are hoping to study the shell—”
    He stopped again, and this time everybody heard it—
rata-tap-tap-tap
coming from the egg.
    What the heck?
    Somebody gasped; other people whispered and pointed. Professor Bohn himself took a step backward but at the same time said, “There is no cause for alarm.”
    Meanwhile, my little sister leaned over. “Cammie? Is it going to hatch?”
    Nate answered before I could. “Don’t be ridiculous. Dinosaurs have been extinct for sixty-five million years.”
    Extinct or not, the
rata-tap
continued, and now the egg began to wobble!
    To the left of me, a man wearing an untucked white shirt and black dress pants jumped up, ready to run. Next thing, the people beside him did the same; then . . . 
rata-tata-tap . . . rata-tata-TAP . . . rata-tata-CRACK!
The eggshell broke and—right before our eyes—something damp, gray and funny-looking started to bust out!

CHAPTER TWO

    â€œGangway!” someone shouted, and a lot of people headed for the exits.
    Meanwhile, a lady from the museum cried, “Ladies and gentlemen! Please exit in an orderly manner!”
    Exit? Who wanted to exit? I wanted to see what was in that egg! But then my little sister sprang up, and of course I had to comfort her. “Don’t worry, Tessa. It’s much too small to hurt us.”
    â€œI know that—
duh
. I just want a closer look!” And—before Aunt Jen or the Secret Service could stop her—Tessa started climbing over chairs to get to the front of the room.
    Aunt Jen sputtered, “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” and climbed after Tessa, except Aunt Jen was wearing a narrow skirt and high heels, so navigating chairs was maybe not her most graceful maneuver. Nate and I tried not to laugh as she tripped and stumbled forward, but in the confusion, I was pretty sure no one else even noticed.
    Meanwhile, I wished I could see what the egg was doing, but there were too many bodies in front of me.
    â€œJeremy!” I looked around for the tallest Secret Service agent. “Can you see?”
    Jeremy stood on tiptoes. “Looks like the little fella’s making progress,” he said. “There’s part of its head and maybe a shoulder . . . er, if it’s even got shoulders.”
    â€œDoes it have a crest—can you see?” Nate wanted to know. “Like a velociraptor?”
    â€œWhat about huge, deadly teeth?” I asked. “Like T. rex?”
    Jeremy shook his head. “Hard to tell from here. But if I had to guess, I’d say it had a beak and damp little feathers.”
    Nate nodded. “That makes sense. The