The Case of the Mysterious Handprints by Donald J. Sobol Page B

spark plug contest. He had won a free car wash in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. In several other contests he had won smaller prizes.
    He laid twenty-five cents on the gas can beside Encyclopedia.
    “I want to hire you,” he said. “Bugs Meany just stole the words right out of my pocket.”
    “Trust Bugs to do something like that,” Encyclopedia murmured.
    Bugs Meany was the leader of a gang of tough older boys. They called themselves the Tigers. They should have called themselves the Pocket Watches. They always watched for the police while their hands went around in some little kid’s pocket.
    “Get back my words before Bugs wins a motorcycle,” Gary said.
    He explained. He had entered a contest, “Fighting Words of Famous Americans.” Ten minutes ago he was hurrying to mail off his entry. Bugs Meany stopped him.
    “Bugs asked me where I was going,” Gary said. “I made the mistake of telling him. Then I made a worse mistake. I told him first prize in the contest was a red, white, and blue motorcycle.”

    Gary had on a tan shirt with two buttonless pockets. Tapping his right pocket, he said, “I was carrying my contest entry here in an envelope. It stuck out. Bugs snatched it and walked off, chanting, ‘Don’t give up the ship!’ ”
    “You’re afraid Bugs will send in the sayings as his own?” Encyclopedia asked. “You’re right. We’d better go and see him while there is still time.”
    “You go,” Gary urged. “I didn’t pay twenty-five cents to get a black eye.”
    “Steady up,” Encyclopedia said. “I’ve handled Bugs before.”
    Gary hesitated, drew a deep breath, and shrugged. “Well … okay,” he agreed. “I’ve always wanted to live dangerously.”
    The Tigers’ clubhouse was an unused tool-shed behind Mr. Sweeney’s Auto Body Shop. Bugs was inside, alone.
    “Make like Christopher Columbus,” he growled at Encyclopedia, “and shove off.”
    “Gary claims you stole some famous sayings from him,” the detective stated calmly.
    “What?” Bugs cried. “Why, this kid is a world-class fruitcake.
He
stole the sayings from
me
.”
    “How did he steal them, Bugs?” Encyclopedia inquired.
    “Right from my shirt pocket,” Bugs asserted.
    “Your shirt doesn’t have a pocket,” Gary pointed out.
    Bugs grunted as if he’d been clubbed over the head with a canoe. It took him a moment to find an answer.
    “Cleanliness is dear to us Tigers,” he said with a smirk. “In the summer we change our shirts twice a day. I was wearing a polo shirt with a pocket.”
    He traced a pocket over his right breast with his forefinger.
    “My sayings were in an envelope, ready to be mailed,” he continued. “The envelope stuck out of my pocket. This kid grabbed the envelope and ran.”
    “You thieving, lying crook!” Gary howled. “You should be elected president so you can grant yourself a pardon.”
    “Baby brain,” growled Bugs, “don’t makeme mad. Run along while I’m in my present good mood.”
    “I’m not budging till you return my sayings,” Gary retorted. “In the words of William Travis, commander at the Alamo, ‘I shall never surrender or retreat.’ ”
    “Is that so?” Bugs jeered. “In the words of John Paul Jones, the naval hero, ‘I have not yet begun to fight!’ ”
    “Oh, yeah?” Gary shouted, “ ‘I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer’—General U. S. Grant at the Battle of the Wilderness.”
    “Don’t shout,” Bugs cautioned. “ ‘Speak softly and carry a big stick’—President Theodore Roosevelt.”
    “ ‘Nuts!’ ” Gary roared. “General Anthony McAuliffe at the Battle of the Bulge!”
    Bugs’s face showed the strain of his struggle to keep up with Gary. The best he could squeeze out was “Remember the Pain!”
    “ ‘Remember the
Maine,’
you big dummy,” Gary corrected. “ ‘Remember the
Maine
’ was the American battle cry against Spain.”
    “Uh-uh, I mean
pain
,” Bugs said