Mysteries According to Humphrey Read Online Free PDF Page B

to be a teacher.”
    Aldo goes to school in the daytime so he can teach school someday. He’s an excellent cleaner, but I think he’ll be a great teacher, too.
    â€œLike I said to Maria, boy, you never know what’s going to happen next.”
    Maria was Aldo’s wife and a special human to me.
    â€œI don’t even know what happened today,” I tried to tell him.
    â€œI know, I know,” he said. “You miss her.”
    Then Aldo went to work. Usually, I love to watch him clean. He sweeps and swoops. He dusts and polishes. He hums and sings and sometimes does a dance.
    But he was quieter that night. Oh, he did get the room very clean, but there was no humming, singing or dancing. Every once in a while he’d stop, shake and mumble, “What a thing to happen,” or, “You just never know.”
    I certainly didn’t know what was going on and I wished someone would tell me.
    When he was finished, Aldo took out a sandwich and his thermos of coffee and sat in front of Og and me. He usually had his dinner break with us, and he always remembered to bring me veggies.
    â€œHere you go, Humphrey, old pal,” he said as he pushed a sweet, crunchy celery stick into my cage.
    â€œTHANKS-THANKS-THANKS,” I squeaked.
    Then he dropped a fishy frog stick into Og’s tank. My neighbor splashed happily.
    â€œHey, I was thinking about that Sherlock Holmes book,” Aldo said. “I think I’m going to read that story about the redhead again.”
    â€œRead it now!” I begged him. “Please!”
    But Aldo just ate and packed up his cleaning supplies and wheeled his cart out of Room 26.
    â€œYou two have a good night,” he said as he switched off the lights.
    I was disappointed to see him go. It might be a long time before I had the chance to hear the end of that story.
    But after I thought about it some more, I decided to take things into my own paws.
    When I saw the lights of Aldo’s car leave the parking lot near my window, I jiggled the lock-that-doesn’t-lock and opened my cage.
    First, I needed to talk to Og. “I was thinking, if we knew how Sherlock Holmes solved a mystery, maybe we could solve our mystery,” I squeaked.
    â€œBOING-BOING?” Og twanged.
    â€œI mean, the mystery of what happened to Mrs. Brisbane,” I explained patiently.
    I try hard to be patient with Og because frogs don’t always think like hamsters. I guess they wouldn’t, since we’re different species.
    â€œDon’t worry, Og,” I said. “I have a Plan.”
    Aldo had very kindly left the blinds open so the streetlight outside lit up the room inside.
    I moved to the edge of the table and grabbed on to the leg. Taking a deep breath, I glided down. I’ve done it many times before. It’s thrilling and slightly scary and definitely dangerous. Once I hit the floor, I scurried over to Mrs. Brisbane’s desk.
    That desk is extremely tall from a hamster’s-eye view.
    I had another lucky break. Mrs. Brisbane’s chair was pushed close to the drawers of her desk, so getting to the big red book on top wouldn’t be too difficult. I stood on my tippy toes and reached up to grab the bar between the chair legs. I used every ounce of strength I could gather to pull myself up. Then I grabbed the next-highest bar and—
OOOF
—pulled myself up again.
    All the exercise I get spinning my wheel and rolling in my hamster ball has made me a super-strong hamster! (Those veggies help, too.)
    Next I grabbed on to the arm of the chair and inched my way up to the seat.
    Whew! I was so tired, my whiskers were wilting, but I was only halfway to my goal!
    Og sent me some encouraging BOING-BOINGs.
    I rested for a few seconds, then reached up again, grabbed the edge of the desk, pulled myself UP-UP-UP and threw myself onto the desktop. Whew!
    Og splashed excitedly.
    After I caught my breath, I hurried over to the big book with the