Terror at the Zoo Read Online Free PDF Page B

Corey’s voice made her believe him.
    “Where is he?” she whispered. “How far ahead of us?”
    “Across from the Elephant Forest. It’s the snack shop where we bought popcorn last time we came.”
    “Did he see you?”
    Corey shook his head, no.
    “You’re sure?”
    “Positive. I saw him from behind and I didn’t make any noise. I came to tell you right away.”
    Ellen turned and started in the other direction. “We’re going back to our tent,” she said.
    Corey didn’t follow her.
    “Come on,” she hissed.
    “I’m going to spy on the zoo man,” he said.
    “What? Don’t be an idiot.”
    “Maybe he’s a crook. Maybe he steals things from the zoo at night and nobody knows it. If we see him do it, we can tell Mrs. Caruthers.” The words came faster. “The police will ask us questions. We’ll be detectives. We’ll be heroes! We’ll get our pictures in the paper.”
    “If he’s a crook, we’re going to keep out of his way. Now, come with me.”
    Corey stayed where he was. “Dad always says when someone is doing something wrong, people should take a stand. He says everyone is scared to get involved.”
    Ellen hesitated. Corey was right; Dad did say that.
    “The zoo man won’t see us,” Corey said. “We’ll stay on the other side of the path. There are trees and bushes to hide in. All we have to do is watch, to see what he does. That’s all. And then tomorrow morning we can tell Mrs. Caruthers what we saw.”
    Ellen switched her flashlight off. Silently, they rounded the curve in the path, staying close to the right-hand edge, near the rhododendrons. As they came to a cleared areathat contained a picnic table, Corey stopped and pointed.
    Ellen squinted in the dim light. On the other side of the path, about fifty feet ahead, she could make out the dark outline of a building. She knew it was the food building, where her family often bought a treat when they visited the zoo.
    She heard a noise like someone hammering lightly on wood. When her eyes focused in the direction of the noise, she saw the outline of a man. He stood at the side of the building, beside the wooden panels which open to make a pass-through counter.
    More noise. Corey was right. The man was breaking into the food stand. The panel was probably easier to force open than the door.
    Ellen, with Corey beside her, crouched low beside the bushes and watched. She couldn’t see exactly what the man was doing but she saw movement and she heard the wooden panel creak.
    A light went on inside the food stand. The panel was raised up and hooked to the roof overhang. Through the opening, she could see him clearly now as he pulled out drawers and slammed them shut again. He picked up a bag of potato chips, ripped off one end, and began to eat.
    “Details,” whispered Corey.
    Ellen put her finger to her mouth, warning him to keep quiet. She knew what he meant, though. For awhile, Corey’s stories had centered on a make-believe detective who always astounded the police by remembering every detail of the villain’s description.
    Ellen stared at the man. He looked tall, although it washard to be sure when she was crouched so low. Six feet probably. Maybe even taller. Dark hair. A khaki jacket. Jeans.
    The man turned, still searching the inside of the food stand. His jacket was open. Ellen saw a red shirt. And it wasn’t jeans, it was overalls. Bib overalls. Wouldn’t the security guard wear a uniform?
    The man stopped moving. He picked up a small box, held it toward the light, and examined it. He laid the box on the counter and bent over it. Something glinted in the light from the bare bulb inside the food stand.
    Corey clutched her arm.
    The man had a knife. A big knife. He was using it to break open the lock on the box.
    That’s probably what he used to pry open the panel, too, Ellen thought.
    He lifted the lid of the box and reached inside.
    Money. He removed a stack of bills and began counting them.
    Corey leaned closer and she was