The Case of the Treasure Hunt by Donald J. Sobol

Author:Donald J. Sobol [Sobol, Donald J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780307781963
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 1988-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

HOW DID ENCYCLOPEDIA KNOW?

(Turn to this page for the solution to

The Case of the Painting Contest.)

The Case of Orson’s Tree

Orson Merriweather had always wanted to be a tree.

“A tree is out of the rat race, settled down,” he told anyone who understood such things. Orson was nine.

He used to stand around with his arms outspread, making believe he was Mr. Big of the tree world. He quit that when he was eight. A woodpecker mistook him for a dwarf oak.

Since then he put out The Social Directory of Big Trees. In it he listed the tallest trees of their kinds.

“If you know a tree who always wanted to be somebody, let me know,” he’d say.

Orson entered the Brown Detective Agency on Tuesday morning. He laid twenty-five cents on the gas can beside Encyclopedia.

“I’m here to hire you,” he said.

“What’s the problem?” Encyclopedia asked.

“My dad is bringing home a foot-high tree, a lignum vitae, this afternoon,” Orson said. “I’m afraid one of the kids on the block will steal it.”

“Who’d want to steal a tiny-tot tree?” Encyclopedia inquired.

“A lignum vitae is a very rare tree,” Orson said. He looked embarrassed. “I’ve been shooting off my mouth about it to some of the kids. It can make them famous.”

“Famous? Oh, that’s silly,” Sally protested.

“No, it isn’t,” Orson said. “I’m going to grow it into a national champ. Then it’ll bear my name. Anyone who discovers a biggest tree, or grows one—or steals one—can name it after himself.”

“A lignum vitae is one of the slowest growers on earth,” Encyclopedia said. “You’ll be lucky if it puts on four inches a year.”

“The slower a tree grows, the more valuable it is,” Orson declared.

“In a hundred years it’ll be barely thirty-three feet high,” Encyclopedia pointed out.

“But every inch a champ,” Orson said. “My great-grandchildren will name it after me, the ‘Orson Merriweather.’ It’ll stand in the backyard—the tallest lignum vitae anywhere. I’ll be famous!”

“What is it you want us to do?” Sally asked.

“My dad is driving up from Isle End with the tree,” Orson said. “He should be home about two o’clock. Be there then and keep an eye open for tree thieves.”

The detectives promised to be there. After Orson left, Sally shook her head.

“Tree thieves! What next?” she said. “Orson talks as if he just came in from the forest.”

Orson lived on a block of attached, look-alike houses. Despite a light rain, the detectives arrived on time.

Nonetheless, they were too late.

“The lignum vitae has been stolen!” Orson wailed as he opened the front door. Sniffling, he told what had happened.

His father had reached home at one o’clock, an hour early. He had honked the horn, and Orson had rushed out and unloaded the tree from the trunk of the car.

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