Free The Falcon's Feathers by Ron Roy Page B

the falcons’ nest to look for clues.
    Josh lived at the end of Farm Lane, in a big yellow house. Behind the house stood a white barn. Josh was shooting baskets at a hoop nailed to the barn door.
    He was dressed in a camouflage shirt and pants.
    â€œGeez,” Dink said, “why didn’t you guys tell me you were going disguised as trees!”
    The three kids hurried down River Road, then took a bike path into the woods. Just before they reached the clearing, Josh stopped. A man wearing jeans and a flannel shirt was standing under the falcons’ tree, looking up into the branches.
    The kids looked at each other, then stepped into the clearing.
    The man turned around. He had wavy black hair, a tanned face, and blue eyes.
    â€œHi there,” the man said. “What are you kids up to?”
    â€œWe were just hiking,” Josh said cautiously.
    The man smiled. “Wait a minute. Your voice is awfully familiar. Are you the guy who called my office yesterday about the missing falcons?”
    Josh grinned. “Yeah, that was me,” he said. Josh introduced himself. “And these are my friends, Dink and Ruth Rose.”

    â€œVery nice to meet you,” the man said. “My name’s Curt. Look, guys, I know you want to help, but the best thing you can do is to stay away from here. The adult falcons won’t come back if they see or smell you kids.”
    â€œBut we came back to look for clues,” Josh said. “I thought a person might have taken the falcons.”
    Curt looked surprised. “A person? Well, it’s possible, I suppose. But I doubt it. I’ve been over this whole area, and I didn’t find a single clue, human or otherwise.”
    The kids followed Curt as he walked away from the tree. “The DEP appreciates your phone call,” Curt said, “but leave the rest to us. I have a feeling we’ll wrap this up soon.”
    At the trail, Curt turned right. “Thanks again!” he said. He waved and began jogging down the path.
    The kids headed down the trail in the other direction. Suddenly, Josh stopped. “Listen!” he said.
    â€œWhat?” Ruth Rose said.
    â€œI heard something.” Josh knelt next to a patch of tangled weeds. Slowly, he parted the stalks with his fingers.
    A brown bird was hunched in the weeds. It had a sharp beak and shiny black eyes.
    â€œIt’s a young peregrine falcon!” Josh said. “He must be from the nest!”
    The bird was trembling. It opened its beak and made
cack-cack-cack
noises at Josh. Its shiny eyes never left Josh’s face.
    â€œThe poor thing looks scared,” Ruth Rose said.

    Josh took off his T-shirt and carefully draped it over the bird. “He won’t be so scared if he can’t see us,” Josh explained. He held the bundle against his chest.
    â€œWhat should we do with it?” Dink asked.
    â€œWe can’t leave him here,” Josh said. “Something will eat him.”
    â€œLet’s take him to Mrs. Wong!” Ruth Rose said.
    The kids hurried down the path. Josh smoothed the bird’s feathers and spoke to it in a soothing voice.
    â€œHey, what’s this?” Josh said. He gently stretched out one of the falcon’s legs.
    Wrapped around the leg was a narrow metal band.

Mrs. Wong examined the band. “There’s writing on it,” she told the kids. “But it’s too small for me to read.”
    â€œWhat is it?” Josh asked.
    â€œIt’s a name tag,” said Mrs. Wong. “Just like you’d hang on a dog’s collar. Someone thinks he owns this bird.”
    Josh was holding the falcon, still partly wrapped in his T-shirt. It sat quietly, watching the humans.
    â€œI wonder if he’s hungry,” Ruth Rose said. “What do falcons eat?”
    â€œPeregrines mostly eat other birds,” Josh said. “But they’ll eat fish and other stuff, too.”
    â€œLet’s find out!”