key ring from his jeans pocket, undid the
padlock, pushed open the door, and switched
on the light that dangled from the ceiling.
Nancy followed him inside.
Along one wall was a plank table that held
the computer and printer. A small file cabinet
in the comer was heaped high with printouts.
“The device that receives the radio signals
from the transmitters is outside,” Ned ex-
plained.
Nancy pointed to a door at the other side of
the room and asked, “Where does that go?”
“To the supply room,” Ned replied. “That’s
what we call it, but it’s really just a glorified
closet. Still, it’s big enough to hold traps, sacks
of food pellets, and other equipment.”
“Is that where the traps were stolen from?”
Nancy said.
“Some of them,” Ned answered. “But we’ve
got four marmot observation stations, and we
keep traps in the huts there, too.” Ned leaned
against the worktable. “It makes me sick to
think that the poachers are using our equip-
ment to steal marmots!”
Nancy returned to the door and studied
the padlock. The shiny brass lock was un-
scratched. “Who has keys to this cabin?” she
asked.
“Just the professor and Brad,” Ned replied.
“These are the professor’s keys I have. He gave
them to me. We were at observation station
two, but he wanted me to come back to check
the computer to see if any signals from the
missing marmots had shown up.”
“Could I see one of the traps?” Nancy asked.
Ned went through the other door and re-
turned with a wire cage with open doors at
each end.
“We put food inside,” Ned explained.
“When a marmot steps in to get it, its weight
triggers a spring that closes the doors.”
Ned picked up a small disk attached to a
plastic collar. “Then we attach a transmitter to
the animal’s neck.”
Nancy studied the collar. “And the marmots
don’t mind?”
“Usually not,” Ned said with a smile. “Now
and then we have to tranquilize one.” He
indicated a small hypodermic syringe on a
shelf.
Nancy shuddered.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he insisted. “And anyway,
we don’t have to do it very often. Most of the
marmots, especially those under two years old,
are really cooperative.”
“What happens after the collar is on?” she
asked.
“Each transmitter has its own identifying
signal,” Ned told her. “All of them are picked
up on our receiver and automatically fed into
the computer. Then, two times a day, we
download the file and chart the movements of
the animals we’re tracking. Since Brad’s acci-
dent, that’s been my job.”
“How’s Brad doing?” Nancy asked.
“Better,” Ned said. “But they’ve kept him
pretty heavily sedated. No one’s been able to
see him.”
“Where did he get hurt?” Nancy queried.
“Up the hill in the hut at observation post
one,” Ned replied.
“I’d like to see it,” Nancy said.
Ned led Nancy to the trail that wound up the
hill. At the top of the slope, Ned halted.
“Well,” he said with a sweep of his hand, “this
is it. We have three other feeding stations, but
this is the most important one.”
Nancy looked around. They were on level
ground now. A circular area about the size of a
football field had been fenced off with chicken
wire.
“This is a marmot community, and that’s
one of their burrows,” Ned explained, point-
ing to a raised mound on the far side of the
chicken wire.
Inside the enclosure Nancy noticed a slim
girl about her own age leaning down to a
burrow. She was wearing a checked shirt,
straight-legged jeans, and suede boots. Her
long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail,
and she had pale blue eyes and an oval face
with a pronounced widow’s peak. When she
saw Nancy and Ned, she came over to greet
them.
“Hi, Jennifer, this is Nancy Drew,” Ned
said casually. “Nancy, meet Jennifer Trainey.”
“Hi, Jennifer,” Nancy said. “Trainey-are
you related to the professor?”
“He’s my dad,” Jennifer said quickly, then
added with a slight smile, “Ned didn’t tell me
he was expecting company.”
Nancy was about to respond when she no-
ticed a flicker of movement from inside the