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afternoon at Ernie's, when Frank told Callie that Joe had other plans, Callie seemed indifferent. "That's okay with me," she said. "I'm sure the two of us will function perfectly well without him."
    "Well, I miss Joe," said Frank. "I'm so used to having him around. We've been through a lot together. Joe can be a pain in the neck sometimes, but he can also be a lifesaver."
    "We'll call him in if we need him," said Callie. "Right now, we need to put together the pieces of this puzzle. And I've come up with a key piece."
    "Right. What did you discover?" asked Frank, leaning forward eagerly.
    "As I told you over the phone," said Callie, "I went over every move I made yesterday, trying to figure out how that black book got into my bag. Then I remembered. It was yesterday, when I went to City Hall during lunchtime to get my application for a driver's license. I had just gotten it, and was looking it over as I walked down a corridor, when I bumped right into a mailman."
    She shrugged. "I guess it was my fault, since I wasn't paying attention. But the mailman had to be walking real fast. He really hit me hard. I dropped my bag, and his mail sack went flying. Everything scattered all over the floor. I remember, he seemed mad. He didn't even look at me. He just started stuffing the letters and parcels back into his bag, even though I tried to apologize. Then I got angry, too. So I stuffed my things back into my bag as fast as I could and stalked off while he was still on his hands and knees scooping up mail. That was when the black book got into my bag. I must have picked it up with my other stuff. I was in such a rush to get out of there, I didn't look carefully at anything."
    "Sounds like a possibility," Frank said, nodding.
    "More than a possibility," said Callie. "I'm absolutely sure of it. There's no other way that book could have gotten into my bag."
    "Then the next step is to find that mailman," said Frank. "What did he look like?"
    "Let's see," said Callie as she bit into a slice of pizza. "It's not so easy to remember somebody who wouldn't look at you." Then her face brightened. "I remember one thing. He had a beard. A dark beard. And dark sunglasses."
    "We can check at the post office," said Frank, "and find out who has that route. So far, so good. Now the next puzzle piece. The code."
    "I haven't had much luck," Callie admitted. "I tried to work on it last night, but my mom saw my light on and ordered me to put it out. Honestly, my parents treat me like an adult most of the time, but when push comes to shove, they still act like I'm about seven years old."
    "Kids may stop being kids, but parents never stop being parents," Frank said with a grin. "But don't worry too much about the code. I'll just run the entries through the computer, and we'll figure them out in no time."
    "Just give me one more crack at it," said Callie. She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out the piece of paper with the entries. Spreading it out on the table, she stared at it. "The solution seems close."
    Frank and Callie were so engrossed in Callie's notes that they didn't realize Chet Morton had approached them until he spoke.
    "Hey, no studying in here," Chet said. "You'll ruin everyone's appetite."
    "No danger in doing that to you, Chet," Callie said, grinning. "How can you carry all that food, much less eat it?"
    In one hand Chet was holding a large pizza. In the other hand he was balancing three large drinks in plastic glasses.
    "No trick at all. I've had years of practice," Chet said. "Do you guys mind if I sit down and join you?"
    But before Chet got a chance to sit, a busboy with a loaded tray tried to squeeze by him. He almost made it — almost. A corner of the busboy's tray hit Chet's elbow right on his funny bone. His arm jerked and the three plastic glasses flew into the air. Soda spattered down like a sudden thunderstorm. There was no thunder, only Callie's horrified yell.
    "Sorry," Chet said, looking down at the damage. "Did I wreck