By Majorie Weinman Sharmat and Mitchell Sharmat

Chapter 1
MR. GREAT

My name is Nate the Great. I am a detective. My dog, Sludge, is

a detective too.
This morning Sludge and I were at the airport in San Francisco.
We were supposed to meet another detective there at ten o’clock. My
cousin, Olivia Sharp.
Olivia always wears a boa made of feathers. This makes her
easy to find. Anywhere. But all we saw were strangers. And many
people with signs.
All at once, I Nate the Great, saw a sign that said NATE THE
GREAT in big letters. A man in uniform was holding it. He came up
to us.
“Mr. Great and Sludge?” he said. “I’m Willie. Miss Olivia’s
chauffeur. She’s out on her eight o’clock case. It’s running late. She
hasn’t even started her nine o’clock.” Willie picked up my suitcase.
“Your limo is over there,” he said.
“My limo?”
“Yes. Miss Olivia always travels in a limo. But today she saved
it for you.”
I, Nate the Great, had never been in a limo. Sludge had never
been in a limo. It was long and shiny. We got inside. Willie got in the
front seat. And we were off.
 Chapter 2
CALLING NATE THE GREAT

We drove up and down many hills. “Is everything all right

back there, Mr. Great?” Willie asked. I looked at Sludge. He wagged
his tail.
“Fine,” I said. “But can you tell me about the case that’s making
Olivia late?”
“Her friend Duncan lost a joke book,” Willie said. “Miss Olivia
is looking for it.”
Willie drove us to Olivia’s house and let us in. A telephone was
ringing. And ringing. This was a phone that needed to be answered.
“Nate the Great for Olivia Sharp,” I said.
“Hello, Nate.” It was Annie, from back home.
“We all miss you,” she said. “And Fang has something to tell
you.”
I heard heavy breathing. I knew that Annie’s dog, Fang, was on
the line. I was happy to be many miles away from his teeth. I waited.
Fang had nothing else to say. Then I heard a strange voice. It
belonged to Rosamond.
“My turn. Bring back California fish for my cats. Lots of fish.
All the fish you can carry. Over and out.”
“I thank all of you for the call,” I said. Then I heard another
voice.
 “Wait! It’s me, Claude. I lost something.” Claude was always
losing something.
“I lost an itsy bitsy seashell two years ago on the Golden Gate
Bridge. Find it!”
Claude hung up.

Chapter 3
THE END OF THE WORLD

The telephone rang again. “Nate the Great for Olivia Sharp,” I
said.
“Hello. This is Duncan. It’s eleven o’clock and the world is
coming to an end.” I, Nate the Great, hoped that this Duncan person
did not have his information straight.
“I need Olivia,” Duncan said.
“Olivia is out,” I said. Duncan moaned.
“Then the world is really coming to an end.”
“Could you be more specific?” I asked.
“Well,” said Duncan, “I lost my joke book. I have to tell a joke
to a friend at two o’clock and I forgot how it ends.”
“Olivia is on your case,” I said.
“Yes, I’m her case number twenty-two,” Duncan said.
 “But she is also working on cases number eighteen and number
twenty-one at the same time. She’ll never solve mine by two o’clock.”
I, Nate the Great, had never heard such a sad voice.
“Very well,” I said. “I will also take your case.” I hung up.
Then I called my mother. The answering machine came on. I
said,

“Dear Mother,
Sludge and I are on a California case.
But it has something to do with the entire world.
Or the end of it. Something like that.
I will be back.
Love,
Nate the Great.”
 Chapter 4
JOKE STEW

Willie drove Sludge and me to Duncan’s house. “I will wait in

the limo,” Willie said.
I knocked on Duncan’s door. He answered it. Duncan looked
even sadder than he sounded. His hair was hanging limp, his socks
were drooping, and his jeans were slipping. Sludge and I walked
inside.
“I am Nate the Great,” I said. “And this is my assistant, Sludge.
Tell us about your joke book.”
“Well, I was in Booksie’s Bookstore yesterday,” Duncan said. “I
saw this small book called Joke Stew. It was the only copy there. I
bought it. I left the bookstore with the book in a Booksie’s bag.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I went to lots of other stores and bought things. Then I went to
Perry’s Pancake House.”
“A pancake house? Good thinking.”
“Yes, Perry’s Pancake House has this big, big menu with five
pages of different kinds of pancakes.
I started to read the menu. The waiter came by.
I ordered mushyberry pancakes. The waiter left. I kept reading
the menu. Then I took out my joke book to find the perfect joke to tell
today. I found it.”
 “Then what happened?”
“The waiter brought the pancakes.”
“Did you put the joke book back in its bag?”
“I don’t remember,” Duncan said. Because something bad
happened.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Duncan looked down at his feet. “I can’t tell you.”
“What can you tell me?”
“The world is coming to an end.”
I, Nate the Great, wished this case were coming to an end. I
said, “So the last place you saw your joke book was in the pancake
house?”
“Yes.”
“It might still be there,” I said. I, Nate the Great, was sure of one
thing. Pancakes were still there. Five pages of pancakes to choose
from!
“I will be back,” I said.
 Chapter 5
STICKY, ICKY MESS

Willie drove Sludge and me to Perry’s Pancake House.

“Sniff around outside, Sludge,” I said. “Look for the joke book.”
“I’ll help Sludge, Willie said.
I went inside the pancake house. It looked good, and it smelled
good. I walked up to a waiter.
“I am looking for a small joke book titled Joke Stew,” I said.
The waiter looked mad. “A girl was just here looking for it,” he
said. “She was wrapped in feathers. Said she was a detective. She put
up LOST JOKE BOOK signs everywhere. Here. There. Up and down
the street. But we have no joke book.
“I know who lost it. Yesterday this boy came in. I served him
mushyberry pancakes. He knocked the syrup bottle over everything.
The pancakes, the menu, the table. Ugh! I scooped up all the sticky
stuff and dumped it in a bag. I handed the bag to him. I told him that
somewhere out there a hungry family of ants or flies would love this
sticky, icky mess.”
The waiter was getting madder. I Nate the Great, knew that I
had to leave the pancake house without eating. I did not want to do
that. But I went outside. Sludge and Willie were standing there.
“We didn’t find the joke book,” Willie said.
 “We looked in front. Then Sludge went out back. He found
garbage cans. He looked in them. Isn’t that the wrong place to look
for a joke book?
“Well, a good detective knows that sometimes the wrong place
is the right place,” I said.
“Smart dog,” Willie said. Willie, Sludge, and I got into the limo.

Chapter 6
THE GOLDEN GATE CLUE

I liked this limo. It was a good place to think and drive around
to see San Francisco.
I, Nate the Great, was thinking. I was not having any luck with
Duncan’s case. I had not found his joke book. I had not found
Claude’s seashell either. Perhaps that was because I had not looked
for it.
“To the Golden Gate Bridge, please,” I said to Willie.
“A fine bridge, Mr. Great,” Willie said.
When we got there, Sludge and I peered out the window. The
Golden Gate Bridge was very, very big. Claude’s seashell was very,
very small. This was not going to help Claude. But suddenly I, Nate
the Great, knew that it might help Duncan!
“I have a Golden Gate clue,” I said to Willie.
“Onward to Duncan’s house!”
 Chapter 7
FROZEN PANCAKES

Duncan was waiting for us.

“I know all about the spilled syrup,” I said. “What did you do
with the bag the waiter gave you?”
“I put it in the freezer,” Duncan said. “I like frozen pancakes.”
“Did you open the bag first?”
“No, it was too icky and sticky.”
I put my hand on Duncan’s shoulder. I, Nate the Great, know
where your joke book is. It is in your freezer!”
“Oh, cool!” Duncan said.
Was that a joke? Never mind. “I Nate the Great, say you were
reading the menu. But you were also reading your joke book. The
menu was big. The book was small. So, the book must have slid or
fallen into the pages of the menu. Before or while the syrup spilled.
The waiter scooped everything up fast and put it all in a take-out
bag.”
“You are a good detective,” Duncan said. “Even if you don’t put
up signs.”
“No problem,” I said. “Olivia has her way. I have mine.”
I opened the freezer. I saw the bag. I took it out. I opened it. It
was full of cold, crusty, icky things. Pancakes, napkins, the top from a
syrup container, a little tub of butter, a huge menu……. but no joke
book!
“The joke book isn’t here,” I said. “The world is definitely
coming to an end, correct.”
Duncan looked down at his feet. “Correct,” he said. “I need my
book by two o’clock. And it’s after twelve now.”
“Do not lose hope,” I said. “That is the worst thing to lose.”
I sat down. “I, Nate the Great, need pancakes. Sludge needs a
bone. They help us think.”
“Have a frozen pancake,” Duncan said
“Thaw it,” I said.
“I don’t thaw,” Duncan said.
“Very well,” I said. “A frozen pancake is better than no pancake
at all. But give Sludge a nice bone.”
 Chapter 8
LOST IN THE BIG CITY

I ate the frozen mushyberry pancake. It did not help me think.

Except about my cold teeth. “What happened after you left the
pancake house?” I asked.
“Well, I had lots of bags. I dropped them outside the pancake
house. Then I picked them up and brought them home. I put the
pancake bag in the freezer and the other bags over there in that corner.
But Booksie’s bag isn’t there.”
“Hmmm,” I said.
I went over to the corner and looked inside all the bags. No
book. “Both the book and the Booksie’s bag are missing,” I said. “I
Nate the Great, say that we should go to Booksie’s Bookstore. I think
you dropped your book in its bag when you were in front of the
pancake house. It wasn’t there today. Perhaps somebody found it and
took it back to the store.”
Duncan kept looking at his feet, “Somebody could have found it
and taken it home,” he said. “Or taken it on a trip. Or mailed it. Or
kicked it. Anything! This is a big city. My joke book could be
anywhere!”
“You are right,” I said.
“I am?”
 “Yes. This is a big-city case. Your book could be anywhere. But
we don’t have enough time to look everywhere. So I, Nate the Great,
have to choose where to look. And because the book was probably in
the Booksie’s bag when you lost it, I choose Booksie’s Bookstore.”
“Oh,” Duncan said. “There is more to this detective business
than I thought.”

Chapter 9
WHAT’S WRONG IS RIGHT

Willie drove Duncan, Sludge, and me to Booksie’s Bookstore.

He waited outside with Sludge. Duncan and I went inside.
“Are books returned here?” I asked a lady behind the counter.
“Yes.”
“Was a joke book returned today or yesterday?”
“You’re the second person to ask,” the lady said. “A girl with a
feather boa and a bunch of signs was just asking the same question. I
told her a mystery book had been returned. And a children’s book, a
cookbook, and a science book. But no joke book.”
“What happens when a book is brought back?” I asked.
“We put it on the shelf again,” she said.
Duncan and I walked away. “Show me the joke book
department,” I said.
“Why? It won’t be there,” Duncan said.
 “We can’t be positive,” I said.
Duncan led the way. “Here,” Duncan said. “This is the exact
place I found the book.”
I looked around. I looked hard. The book wasn’t there.
“You did not choose the right place in the city to look,” Duncan
said. I, Nate the Great, already knew that.
I saw Sludge peering through the front window. Sludge had not
been much help on this case. Or had he? He had looked in the wrong
place for the joke book. But sometimes the wrong place is the right
place. The wrong place!
“Follow me,” I said to Duncan. I rushed up and down the aisles.
At last I came to the place I was looking for. The wrong place.
I waved to Sludge. He wagged his tail. Then I looked up and
down and across shelves. And there it was! Duncan’s joke book. Joke
Stew!!! I took it down and handed it to Duncan.
“My book! My book!” he said. “But this is the cookbook
section. Why is my book here?”
“I, Nate the Great, say that the lady told us a cookbook had been
returned. Whoever put your book back on the shelf thought it was a
cookbook. With a name like Joke Stew, it could be.”
Duncan smiled. He smiled. I knew the world was safe for now.
 Chapter 10
A FEATHERY HUG

Duncan skipped off.

Suddenly I heard a voice. “You solved my case number twenty-
two!”
A bunch of feathers hugged me. It was Olivia. In person. “I owe
you one,” she said. “Let me know if I can ever solve a case for you.
Any case. Big, small, easy, hard.”
“I think I have something for you right now,” I said.
“It’s big and it’s small and possibly it’s hopeless. Willie can
take us to it.” I, Nate the Great, enjoyed the ride to the Golden Gate
Bridge.