The Mystery of Mr. Nice Read Online Free PDF

small—just small enough to fit into a book bag with room left over for books. And she wasn't very energetic—just bouncing around the jungle gym like alien popcorn in a warp-speed popper.
    Maybe that's how she got her name. Duh.
    "Hey, short stuff," I said. "Are you the one they call Popper?"
    "Yup, yup, yup, that's me!" she squeaked.
    "We'd like to talk to you," said Natalie.
    Popper turned a triple back flip off the highest bar and landed at our feet. She kept vibrating even after she hit the ground.

    "Hey, hey, what's up?" she said.

    "I'm Chet and this is Natalie. We want to welcome you to our school."
    "Hi, hi, hi," said Popper. "You guys are so cool. Better, much better, than the kids at my last school."
    Her double-talk was giving me a double headache. Popper twitched and jiggled and quivered like an electric eel in a light socket. If we spent much more time with her, I thought I'd take a socket her myself.
    Mornings are not my best time.
    "Where were you before this?" I asked.
    "Oh, here and there, here and there." She jittered and hopped. "Rotley Elementary, Doofus Junior School, Our Lady of Perpetual Confusion. I move, I move around a lot."
    "I hadn't noticed," I said.
    "Have you ever been upstate?" asked Natalie.
    "Nope, nope, nope. Don't think so."
    "Do you know Mr. Squint or Principal Zero?" I said. "And how about a guy named Guido?"
    "Nope, nada, zip," she said. "Three strikes, three strikes—that means you're out!"
    I gritted my teeth and clenched my fist. Natalie's wing feathers brushed my arm.
    "Popper," she said gently, "do you know anything about a vocational school?"
    "Hey, hey, hey!" said Popper. "I love vacations, love those vacations."

    Natalie sighed. I snarled. The bell rang. No telling what I would've done if it hadn't.
    "Bye-bye, you guys, bye-bye!" said Popper. She rocketed off the playground in a green-and-yellow blur.
    "Do you really think she's a crook, too?" said Natalie.
    I unclenched my jaw. "She's guilty of first-degree babbling and assault with intent to annoy. But those aren't crimes, last time I checked."
    "Too bad."
    Natalie and I split for class. Popper was a dead end, deader than leftovers from a bullfrog's breakfast. That left Ms. Darkwing, and then we'd be fresh out of leads.
    Somehow we had to uncover the plot, find our real principal, and stop the crooks—all before the PTA meeting that evening.
    But first, I had an even bigger challenge to tackle. A mean science quiz.
    And I hadn't read the homework.

11. Like a Bat Out of Jell-O
    At recess I zipped over to Natalie's classroom. We had fifteen minutes to get the scoop on Ms. Darkwing. The Welcome Wagon gag was wearing thin, so I chose a new angle.

    "Okay, Natalie," I said, "this time we're reporters for the school newspaper."
    "That's news to me," she said.
    I sighed. "Come on, let's interview our next suspect."
    But when we poked our heads into Ms. Darkwing's classroom, nobody was there. She must have had playground duty.
    "We missed her," said Natalie. "What now?"
    My eyes roamed the room and settled on the desk. "We snoop."
    Ms. Darkwing's desk was so neat, it was scarier than a piggyback ride on a porcupine. All the pencils were sharpened to the same length. All the test papers lined up perfectly.

    Spooky.
    I squirmed in loathing and slid open a drawer. Natalie peeked over my shoulder.
    In flawless order lay a ruler, a lock-picking kit, some brass knuckles, and a stack of papers under a black beanbag-looking thingy with a handle. Natalie picked it up and tapped it on her palm.
    "Ow!" she said. "That's some mean beanbag. It wouldn't make much of a beanie creature."
    "That's no beanbag, that's a sap."
    "No need to get personal. You can be a little ditzy yourself, sometimes."
    I gritted my teeth. "Not you, beak-face,
that—
it's a sap."
    "A what?"
    "A sap." I took it from her and dropped it into my pocket while I sorted through the papers underneath. "Bad guys use them to knock people out."
    Natalie raised