The Case of the Missing Dinosaur Egg Read Online Free PDF

to find. Okay, my darkest pair of sunnies might help get me in the mood. And perhaps if I stashed my Bratz notebook plus my favorite silver tipped biro in the back pocket of my jodhpurs, they might come in handy.
    Five minutes later, Noah and I stood at the little side track leading to the Professor’s fence-line. While Noah dropped his bike on the ground and ran across to the barbwire fence, I hung back, reluctant to go any further.
    “Come on, Cha!”
    This wasn’t like me to pass up a chance of solving a mystery. Maybe Noah was right. Maybe I was a wuss . I threw a nervous glance over the razor-wire fence. The threatening signs had suddenly developed a life of their own. They were glaring at me—warning me to stay on my side of the fence.
    A strange silence settled over the paddock as we lay on our stomachs and prepared to wriggle under the barbed wire. A sinister silence. A silence that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and shiver.
    “See anything?”
    “Nope. All clear,” whispered Noah standing up on the other side and snatching a quick look over his shoulder.
    “Have you been in here before?” I asked passing the balloons over the fence to him.
    “Yeah, once. But Mum found out and was so mad she wouldn’t let me ride for a week.”
    No riding for a week? In that case perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea.
    “Did you find out what the professor is hiding? Why he’s surrounded by all these signs?”
    “Nah. He caught me as soon as I snuck under the fence. Sent me packing and then rang Mum.” Noah screwed up his nose. “He threatened to ring the police next time.”
    Now he tells me.
    “Don’t worry,” my partner-in-crime added. “This won’t take more than a couple of minutes. Now, hurry up and get under the wire. This isn’t a picnic you know.”
    “Why can’t we just tie the balloons to the fence line?”
    “’Cos that’s not what the dare said.”
    Who cares what the dare said.
    As I followed Noah under the fence, the sleeve of my new red sweater caught on the barbed wire. Blast. Even if the Professor, or Kate, or the bull didn’t kill me—Mum would. This sweater cost fifty dollars.
    As soon as I stood up on the other side of the fence, Noah handed me the balloons and took off in the direction of the trees.
    “Hang on! Wait for me!”
    Tightening my fist on the balloon strings I scuttled after him. I guess he’s right, I thought, as I jogged along, this shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes and then we’ll be on our bikes and heading back to the stables.
    Feeling more confident, I lengthened my stride and eyed the row of trees growing in front of the professor’s rambling old house. The sooner the balloons were tied on one of their branches the better.
    Half way across the paddock, a sudden movement behind the pepper trees caught my eye.
    Oh, nooooooooo!
    The movement had horns—and angry, red-rimmed eyes.
    “Look out!” yelled Noah, his legs pumping faster. “It’s the bull! Head for the nearest tree and start climbing.”
    As if I needed telling.
    With my heart belting out a drum-roll, I galloped toward the trees at the back of the paddock. One quick glance over my shoulder told me it would be a race to the death. The bull, bellowing in fury, nostrils fanned wide, was zeroing in on my scarlet jumper and the six bright red balloons.
    And his four well-muscled legs looked to be galloping a whole lot faster than my two skinny ones.

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    Perched precariously on a bendy branch six feet from the ground, I felt about as safe as a fly in a spider-web. Even if the branch didn’t break and dump me under the bull’s stamping feet—I’d probably lose my balance and fall and end up as mashed potato.
    What a fantastic adventure. Not. I couldn’t wait to tell Noah what I thought of his sucky double-dare. My throat felt full of rocks. When I opened my mouth to yell for help, all that came out was a crusty creaky croak. Both my hands were scratched and bleeding. My new