The Genius Files #4 by Dan Gutman Page A

pillow,” Coke whispered to his sister.
    â€œIt’s a cipher,” Pep replied. “It has to be. They’re coming at us over the radio now.”
    The twins looked at the letters Pep had written in her notepad: P-C-F-T-H-B-L-R-N-Y-S-T-N .
    â€œOh, come on,” Coke said. “You gotta be kidding me. No way we’re gonna figure this one out.”
    â€œYou give up too easily,” his sister told him.
    Pep took the notepad and slid over to her side of the seat so she could concentrate. This one didn’t look so hard. They had solved tougher ciphers before.
    Pep tried all the usual strategies that had worked before, but none of them seemed to fit. That only made her more determined. Her forehead would wrinkle, and then she would brighten, and then her forehead would wrinkle again. The previous cipher had been easy. This was a hard one. After almost an hour, she still hadn’t cracked it. She, too, was stumped.
    Dr. McDonald pulled off the exit marked P ARIS . It looked like a pretty normal Texas town. Twenty-five thousand people. Forty-four square miles.
    â€œWhy is it called Paris?” Pep asked.
    â€œIt’s probably in honor of Paris, France,” her mother said, leafing through her guidebook.
    â€œActually, there are fifteen American towns named Paris,” Coke said, having read that on a poster at school a long time ago.
    I think you will agree, reader, that nobody should know how many American towns are named Paris. It’s just not information that needs to be retained.

    Dr. McDonald drove through the east side of town until he reached the corner of Jefferson Road and South Collegiate Drive next to the LoveCivic Center.
    â€œThere it is!” Mrs. McDonald shouted, pointing. “Behold!”
    And there it was—a dark metal structure that looked remarkably like the real Eiffel Tower, with the added attraction of having a ten-foot-wide red cowboy hat, slightly tilted at a jaunty angle, on top. Everybody got out of the car to get a better look.
    â€œWell,” said Dr. McDonald, “I must admit you don’t see that every day.”
    â€œIt’s just like France,” Pep said, “but in Texas.”
    â€œI can just about smell the baguettes baking,” Coke said. “Oh, wait. That’s probably just a cattle ranch.”
    â€œThink of it,” Mrs. McDonald told the kids. “You’re standing in the only place in the world that has a giant replica of the Eiffel Tower with a cowboy hat on it. This is why we travel, kids. To see things you can’t see anywhere else.”
    â€œDo you think they have a fake Mona Lisa wearing a cowboy hat here too?” Coke asked.
    Mrs. McDonald was used to her son’s snarky remarks. She took out her camera to snap a few pictures, and also jotted down some notes for Amazing but True.
    According to a plaque nearby, the fake Eiffel Tower was built in 1993 by volunteers. At first, the tower didn’t have a cowboy hat on the top. But five years later, the town of Paris, Tennessee, built a fake EiffelTower of its own that was five feet higher than the one in Paris, Texas. That’s when the cowboy hat was added.
    â€œHey, take a picture of me with the tower in the background,” Coke told his mother.
    He went under the tower and struck a karate pose while Mrs. McDonald set up the shot.
    â€œTake a step back,” she instructed him.
    He did, and as she was about to snap the picture, there was the sense that something out of the ordinary was about to happen. Everyone could feel it. Something was wrong. Something was happening. They just didn’t know what it was.
    A split second later, an object appeared in everyone’s peripheral vision. The only person who didn’t see it was Coke, who was posing for the camera.
    â€œWatch out!” Pep screamed.
    She bolted over and tackled her brother. They hit the ground together in a tangle of arms and legs.
    â€œWhat