Free The Case of the Missing Dinosaur Egg by June Whyte

’Cos if you are—I’m dead against it. In fact, I’ll report you to the police.”
    What was wrong with Jack? Couldn’t he see we were in a big heap of trouble here? Didn’t he realize we could be the professor’s next experiments?
    For several long silent seconds the professor gazed at Jack with strange unfocused eyes.
    Ooh no…he was going to turn from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. Any minute now he would burst through his clothing, develop muscles the size of dumbbells and sprout long black hair all over his body.
    Without a word, the professor slowly reached into a drawer and drew out a pair of long shiny pointed scissors.
    My eyes almost popped from my head.
    Jack tripped over his feet as he took a hurried step backwards.
    “Hey, if you feel that way, Professor,” I gabbled, my throat dry with fear, my heart racing like an out-of-control motorboat, “we don’t know a thing.”
    The professor put the scissors on the table and took out a small steel bowl and a bottle of disinfectant.
    “Seeing as you are here,” he said, his voice quiet and dead flat. “You may as well make yourselves useful.”
    Like a snake his eyes held mine. “You,” he said, “hold Pedro still while I clean and bandage his leg.”
    His hypnotic gaze fell on Jack. “And you…whoever you are… can finish feeding Alex.” He indicated the bald baby bird squawking indignantly on the floor. “Remember though, after every mouthful of porridge, Alex needs his face wiped. You can use that damp cloth next to the bowl.”
    I couldn’t believe it. There was something like amusement tugging at the corners of the professor’s mouth now. Was he playing with us like a snake plays with a mouse before gobbling it up?
    It seemed to take Jack a few moments to shake off the scissors-scare. At last he peered down at the gaping mouth of the hungry bird under his feet and shrugged his shoulders.
    “Me? Yeah. Cool.” Jack tried to dodge the baby cockatoo, fold his flapping arms and legs and lower himself to the floor—and almost sat in the bowl of porridge.
    “Ever heard of a native animal sanctuary?” With a gentle hand the professor bathed the blood and dirt from Pedro’s leg and applied some sort of yellow disinfectant to the wound.
    Geez…what was this scary man hinting at? Finding a nearby animal sanctuary so he could feed us to the crocodiles?
    “Um—I guess it’s a place that looks after native animals, like koalas, kangaroos and bilbies.”
    “Right. But my sanctuary will have native birds and reptiles too,” added the professor as he deftly wrapped a white gauze bandage around Pedro’s back leg.
    And then the professor smiled at me. A smile that lit his face up—like a Christmas tree, when you turned on the colored lights.
    “Contrary to what you think—I am not a mad professor.”
    Could have fooled me.
    “I am setting up a small sanctuary for all native fauna,” he went on, his glance resting on the animals in their cages. “I have the council’s approval, the funding is in place and in a few weeks’ time the builders will arrive. They will build runs and shelters for these little creatures to live in when they are old enough.”
    “And the laboratory?”
    Ugggh…Jack couldn’t let it go, could he?
    “Simple. I am a Professor of Veterinary Science. No good running an animal sanctuary without veterinary back-up.”
    “But why eggs?” Jack asked. “Why not full-grown animals?”
    “These little darlings were born here. They won’t miss the wild because they have no knowledge of it. Isn’t that better than capturing full-grown animals, birds and reptiles and subjecting them to the trauma of captivity?”
    Okay, I could go along with that. But I was still confused.
    “Animals don’t hatch from eggs,” I argued. “Only birds and reptiles.”
    “It is surprising the number of people who think that.” Filling a syringe with something from a small bottle, the professor injected Pedro, then picked him up and settled