Free The Case of the Gasping Garbage by Michele Torrey Page B

When Your Garbage Is Gasping.”
    Just then, Drake’s mom poked her head in the lab. Kate Doyle was a fine cook and ran her own catering company from home. Blueberry muffins were her specialty. Now Mrs. Doyle asked if they wanted any hot chocolate with their muffins, seeing that it was such a damp, drizzly day.
    “No thanks,” Drake said politely. “Just muffins.”
    “Coffee. Decaf. Black,” said Nell. And she shoved a pencil behind her ear. (Nell forgot she already had a pencil behind her other ear.)
    “Affirmative,” Drake’s mom said, and closed the door.
    (Real scientists don’t drink hot chocolate. Ditto for real detectives. And Drake and Nell were both.)
    “Let’s go over the facts again,” said Nell.
    Drake nodded. “Just the facts, ma’am.”
    Together they pored over their observations.
    After a while, Drake’s dad stuck his head in the lab. Sam Doyle owned a science equipment and supply company. He regularly brought home used equipment for the lab: computers, microscopes, telescopes, glassware, Bunsen burners—even an old sink that he had plumbed with hot and cold water. If either Drake or Nell needed equipment, Mr. Doyle was the man.

    Now Mr. Doyle glanced at the rumbling garbage can and told them to be careful.
    “We will,” said Drake and Nell.
    Mr. Doyle rolled his eyes and closed the door.
    “What’s he think we’re going to do?” asked Drake. “Blow up the lab?”
    “You did last time,” reminded Nell.
    “That’s beside the point. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Based on our observations, Scientist Nell, I have formulated a hypothesis …”
    All through the evening they worked. Later Mrs. Doyle brought them tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches with a pickle on the side. (Mrs. Doyle always cooked from her vegetarian menu whenever Nell was around, because Nell was a vegetarian.) Drake and Nell washed their hands and sat at Drake’s desk, knowing they should never eat or drink while conducting They were top-notch scientists.
    After supper, Nell called her mother and asked if she could stay extra late, given that there was no school tomorrow and that they were swamped with experiments and under a deadline. Ann Fossey was a biology professor at Mossy Lake University. Her specialty was wildlife biology. “Goodness gracious sakes alive,” exclaimed Professor Fossey. “Sounds like you’re a busy scientist. Now, don’t you worry about a thing, my dear. I’ll be sure to feed your rats and lizards.”
    “And don’t forget my snakes and bugs.”
    “Of course, dear,” said Professor Fossey. “I’ll leave the light on for you.”
    Finally, after midnight, just when Nell was on her fourth cup of decaf, they had their answer.
    In the morning, Nell hurried back to Drake’s house. They called Gabby first thing. “Meet us in the lab,” said Nell. “We’ve discovered the identity of the monster.”
    After Gabby arrived, Drake paced the floor while Nell sat on a stool. “You see, Ms. Talberg,” Drake was saying, “it’s really quite simple. Nell?”
    “Thank you, Detective Drake. First of all,” said Nell, “the garbage can sounded hollow when we tapped on it. Second, the garbage can wasn’t too heavy.”
    “You see, Ms. Talberg,” said Drake, “most monsters are quite heavy.”
    “In addition,” added Nell, “the garbage can was stored in a very warm environment. We that environment in our lab by setting the can next to the heater and checking its temperature. But most important, the garbage can smelled like bread.”
    “Remember, your dad is a baker,” said Drake. “The best baker around, to be exact. Therefore, based on the clues and our observations, I developed an educated guess—what we scientists call a hypothesis. I believed that the monster lurking inside your garbage can was not really a monster at all, but …”
    “Yes?” asked Gabby, her eyes wide.
    “Yeast,” said Drake. “Pure and simple yeast.”
    “Yeast?”
    “Yes, yeast. Allow Scientist