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“But for now, I’m expecting another rare delivery from Mexico.” And with that, he threw back his head and laughed a sinister laugh.
    As soon as the door closed behind Jake, Nell cried, “Quick, Detective Doyle, pick the lock with your handy-dandy lock picker!”
    “Check!” But when Drake reached for his detective kit, it was gone. “Egads! Jake must have taken it with him!”
    It was, quite possibly, the worst moment of their detective careers.
    “This is awful,” said Drake. Cough! Cough!
    “Terrible,” said Nell.
    “We simply must do something.” Ah-choo! Honk!
    “Yes, but what?”
    “What about Plan B?” asked Drake.
    “There is no Plan B. There wasn’t time. All we have is Plan A.”
    “This is awful,” said Drake again. Sniff! Sniff!
    “Terrible.”
    So they sat in the cage, trying not to think about being fish food. Meanwhile, Nell was getting rather hungry and Drake was wishing he had brought an extra hankie.
    Then, suddenly, Drake felt something wiggling under his clothes. “Great Scott!” he screeched. “They’re eating me already!” Fearing the worst, he reached inside his shirt and pulled out a . . . a . . . cell phone. The same phone that Sloane had lent him as payment for rescuing her from the laundry chute. It was set on VIBRATE .
    Sick with relief, he flipped it open, wondering who could possibly be calling. “Uh—hello? I mean, Doyle and Fossey.”



“Drake? Are you all right?” It was his mother.
    “Uh—I don’t know, Mom. I’m not feeling so good.” Ah – choo! “I think my fever—”
    Nell snatched the phone away from him. “Mrs. Doyle, this is Nell. We have an emergency. . . .” And she proceeded to give Mrs. Doyle the gory details. (You really can’t blame Drake for being a little foggy in the head, because, as you well know, his nose was stuffed up and he was running a slight fever, plus he felt another sneeze coming on.)
    Five minutes later, red and blue lights flashed and sirens wailed. “The jig is up,” the police yelled through the megaphone. “We’ve got you surrounded!”
    Thanks to the police, it was over in a jiffy. Jake gave himself up. Drake and Nell were released. The parrots were taken into protective custody. All in all, Plan A was a smashing success.
    TV crews and reporters from the Mossy Lake Daily Word and National Geographic arrived to interview them and take their pictures. Nell gave a few speeches and held up quite well under the lights, but Drake was exhausted. He was relieved to see his parents drive up, and after them, Professor Fossey. It was time to call it a day.
    “Couldn’t have done it without you, Detective Doyle,” said Nell, shaking his hand.
    “Ditto, Naturalist Nell,” said Drake.
    “Get plenty of rest and call me in the morning,” Nell added, patting him on the back.
    “Check.” Ah – choo! That night, tucked in bed, with a flashlight under the covers, Drake wrote in his lab notebook:
    Jake McNeely (known as Jake the Snake)
behind bars.
A slippery fellow, according
to police.
Parrots to be returned to
jungle.
Payment: Feature article in
National Geographic.
    Paid in full.

S erious scientists always have their own lab. It can be quite simple. A desk. A lamp. A few necessary supplies. Here are some hot tips for creating your own lab:
    1. Begin collecting items you might need for experiments, such as tape, string, markers, rulers, and glass and plastic containers. You never know when they might come in handy.
    2. You’ll need a blank lab notebook. Like Drake and Nell, you will record every step of the experiment: procedures, observations, results, etc. And, of course, all good scientists know to xsrecord even their mistakes.
    3. To be completely official, you will need a lab coat. Old shirts that button down the front work well. Using a permanent marker, write your name on the shirt. (Ask permission first.)
    4. Lastly, all good scientists label everything. Keep masking tape and a marker on hand.
    Good Science