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still doesn’t prove they stole anything.”
    “But what about the tread marks from the vehicles?”
    Corporal Fraser said, “I have to run them through the system, but I’m fairly certain they’re from all-terrain vehicles. I don’t know if we can isolate the exact ones until the treads are studied, but the casts will help.”
    “Just one atv?” asked Ole Pederson.
    “I’d say at least a couple of them, and maybe with trailers attached,” suggested the officer.
    “I guess we have our work cut out for us,” Pederson said.
    “No,” interjected Corporal Fraser, “ you don’t. We do, meaning the police force. Let us deal with the situation.” He surveyed them all. “That goes for every one of you.”
    They all nodded in agreement, though Daniel crossed his fingers loosely behind his back. He still wanted to see what he could find out.
    “Could I suggest that we keep the type of dinosaur to ourselves?” asked Pederson. “We’re trying to keep its discovery a secret until we have confirmed all the evidence. Only a couple of experts at the museum know anything about it. We don’t want the media or the public to know yet.”
    “Sure thing,” agreed Corporal Fraser. “Besides, it’s always good to keep some information back to compare with evidence that comes in which might lead us to an arrest.”
    “The more discreet you can be about everything the better,” Dr. Roost added.
    “I can even try and keep back that it’s a dinosaur skeleton we’re looking for from your place, at least for a day or so while we do a general inquiry,” offered Corporal Fraser. “But eventually it will have to come out if we need the public’s help in locating it.”
    “Fair enough,” said Pederson.
    Corporal Fraser left shortly afterwards. Lucy and Jed continued to take the last of the visiting groups on tours of the quarry for the rest of the afternoon. Meanwhile, the adults tidied up the kitchen, yard and campsite, and mulled over what they should do about the sour turn of events. Daniel managed to slink away, rounding up his horse, Gypsy.
    Not bothering with a saddle, Daniel flung himself onto his grey pinto mare, loping bareback across the fields. He avoided the tour groups, circling wide around the quarry. Approaching the area where the tracks led away from the site, he scanned the hard ground looking for impressions. In an ever-widening circle, he searched, but there was nothing visible.
    As Daniel headed home, several flocks of honking geese flew south in wide Vs across the bright blue sky. He guided Gypsy to the edge of the drying pasture and they entered the ditch along the grid road. As they crossed a dirt trail into a field that neighboured the Bringham land, Daniel pulled Gypsy to a sudden halt.
    A forty-five gallon metal barrel with a gash in it lay on its side, spilling oil into the ditch that drained into a nearby stream. Had it fallen off a load by accident, or had someone dumped it there on purpose? Either way, Daniel had to do something fast before the contaminated stream reached the main creek that flowed across their land.
    Although the oil spill was relatively small compared to oil tanker leaks on the oceans, Daniel knew the negative ecological effects could last for many years. Besides the damage that would be caused to the land, birds and animals could die from drinking the water or eating contaminated plants. Daniel wheeled Gypsy away from the dangerous area and raced home.
    Back in the yard, Daniel found Mom and Greta drinking coffee at the picnic table with recipe books spread out in front of them. When he explained what he’d found, Mom raced to the house to call Dad on his cell phone and then to advise the local environmentalist group.
    Within minutes, Dad and Doug arrived from the campsite. Daniel helped them gather ropes, a tire jack, pails, rags and other equipment, including rubber gloves and face masks for themselves. They placed everything on the stoneboat, while Doug hitched his Jeep