are practically identical.”
“Would you mind if I check one or two of
their references?” Nancy asked. “I’d need to
use your phone.”
“I think that would be all right,” Martin
said. He grabbed a scratch pad and scribbled a
couple of names and addresses on it, then
passed it over. “Here are the most recent
references.”
Nancy dialed, but the first number Martin
gave her was disconnected. She tried the next
one.
“Hopper and Wade Construction,” a polite
voice said. “May I help you?”
Nancy put on her most professional voice.
“I hope so. I’m calling from the National Park
Service in Yellowstone.” She gave Martin an
apologetic look, but he just grinned. She
turned her attention back to the phone, telling
the woman that Richard and Piker were look-
ing for jobs and had listed Hopper and Wade
as a reference.
“Gee, I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize the
names,” the woman said. “Just a minute, let
me punch them into our computer.” Nancy
held her breath as the woman put her on hold.
Finally, she heard a click over the line. “I’m
sorry, but we don’t have a record of anyone
with either of those names. Are you sure you
have the right company?”
“Yes,” Nancy replied. “Well, thanks very
much.” She hung up. “Richard and Piker lied
on their applications,” she told Martin.
“That’s enough to get them fired. It’s strange
-we usually check references,” Martin said.
“But it doesn’t prove that they’re poachers-
only liars. Come on, I’ll get those sleeping bags
and air mattresses for you.”
They loaded the gear into the trunk, then
Martin said, “I’ll see you later,” and went back
inside.
At the hotel Nancy found Bess sitting in the
lobby, wearing a blue workshirt and well-cut
blue denim overalls. “I’m all ready to go
camping,” she announced. “At least, as ready
as I’ll ever be.”
“What’s with the Turkowers?”
“The desk clerk told me they went off for a
day-long hike through the Grand Canyon of
the Yellowstone,” Bess replied dutifully.
“I wonder if that’s where they really are,”
Nancy said, then explained that she’d gotten
mattresses and sleeping bags from Martin but
had to go back for the tent. “I’ll drop you off at
the campsite first,” she went on a little tensely.
“I want you to keep track of the professor.”
Fifteen minutes later Nancy watched Bess
trudge up the path to the campsite, two sleep-
ing bags slung over her shoulder and a suitcase
in her left hand.
Back at the ranger station. Nancy found a
very grim Martin Robbins. “I checked out the
other references those clowns gave,” he re-
ported. “Every one of them a fake. They’re out
of here first thing Monday morning whether
you turn up anything against them or not. My
next job will be to find out how they got
through the hiring process in the first place.
The system is supposed to prevent this kind of
thing.”
“This place is deserted,” Bess told Nancy
back at the campsite. “Everyone went off to
the feeding stations to pack up.”
“What about Trainey?” Nancy asked.
“That’s the weird thing,” Bess replied. “I
went up to the command post a while ago and
noticed the professor riming through a stack of
photos. When he got to one of them, he got
livid. I mean, his face turned bright red and he
stalked off to his tent, then hopped into a Jeep
and blew out of here.” She stared at her friend.
“What do you think it means?”
“I have no idea,” Nancy replied.
“Jack acted strange, too,” Bess continued,
frowning. “I asked him to help me feed Spike,
but he brushed me off. I don’t understand it.
Just last night he was saying he could get really
serious about me and today you’d think I had
the plague.”
“I don’t know quite how to say this,” Nancy
said slowly, “but Jack has been more or less
flirting with me, too.”
“Really?” Bess’s eyes grew round with sur-
prise.
Nancy nodded.
Bess was silent for a long time. Tears welled
up in her eyes, but she shook her head and
angrily wiped them away. Finally she said,