The Case Of The Missing Toy

I’m only nine, but I already know what I want to be when I grow up: a librarian who solves mysteries

- Dave Goodale

A library is a great place for detective work. There are computers, books, and cushy chairs. Someday my business card will read

I know I need to go to college to be a librarian. Mr. Smart at the children’s desk told me I need to go even though I’ve memorized the Dewey Decimal System (Detectives, 363.2; Libraries, 027).

On Tuesday, my mom takes me to the library. I grab the local paper and scan the Lost and Found—a page full of unsolved mysteries. I find this ad:

Intriguing.

I research toys by flipping through toy books (688.728). Did you know Silly Putty was invented by accident? It was just a blob that nobody wanted until someone sold it as a toy.

I look back at the ad. Something doesn’t seem right.

“Why is this ad listed with the lost dogs?” I say aloud.

I have a hunch.

I walk to the stacks and stop at 636.7, where I pull out a dog encyclopedia. I turn to the index. Then I see it. “Toy Dogs.”

On the way home, I explain the case to my mother and ask if I can call Ms. Weiss. Mom agrees and lets me use her phone.

“Hello?” says a woman with a thick accent.

“Hi. I saw your ad in the newspaper,” I say.

“Did you find my dog?”