Mystery at the Washington Monument Read Free Page B

what was hidden in the hole.
    “I wonder who trained him to do that,” KC went on.
    “I’ll bet it’s hard to train a monkey,” Marshall said. He stroked Washington’s thin arms. The monkey pulled his right arm away.
    “Hey, what’s wrong?” Marshall asked the monkey. “Does something hurt?”
    When KC and Marshall tried to examine the arm, Washington pulled away again. He began to tremble.
    “Maybe he hurt it banging against the statue,” KC suggested.
    “Should we take him to a vet?” Marshall asked.
    “I guess so,” KC said. “But where can we find a vet who treats monkeys?”
    “Easy,” Marshall said. He slung one arm around KC’s shoulders. “At the National Zoo, right here in D.C.”
    KC grinned at Marshall. “Sometimes you’re brilliant!” she said.
    “You mean sometimes I’m
not
brilliant?” Marshall teased.
    KC and Marshall took Washington back to KC’s room. KC called the National Zoo and asked for a monkey vet.
    She told someone she had a spider monkey with a hurt arm.
    “My name is KC Corcoran,” she added.“My stepfather is President Thornton.”
    A minute later, she hung up. She had a big smile on her face. “Dr. Tutu is going to meet us at the main gate,” she said.
    “How will we get Washington there?” Marshall asked. “I don’t know if they allow monkeys on the Metro trains.”
    “I know,” KC said. She grabbed her backpack and unzipped the top compartment. She lined it with an old sweatshirt and set Washington down inside.
    The monkey curled into a ball and closed its eyes.
    “He likes it in there!” KC said.
    “Maybe it reminds him of the nest where he was born,” Marshall suggested.
    The kids took the Metro train. They got off at the zoo stop. It was a ten-minute walk to the zoo.
    Even outside the gate, the sweet smell of wild animals and exotic plants told them they were getting close.
    A tall man wearing shorts and a tropical shirt waited under a tree. Around his neck was a thick necklace of colored beads. The necklace shone against his dark skin.
    KC and Marshall approached the man. “Hi, I’m KC, and this is Marshall,” KC said.
    “And I am Dr. Tutu,” the man said. “Where is your little friend?”
    KC opened her backpack. Washington was sound asleep on her sweatshirt.
    “Delightful,” Dr. Tutu said. “Follow me to my office, please.”
    They passed the elephant enclosure. Marshall laughed when he saw a long trunk appear over the wall.

    Dr. Tutu’s office was in a small white building near the monkey house. Flowers lined a short path to the front steps. Two rocking chairs sat on the porch, nestled among potted plants.
    Dr. Tutu held the door open, and the kids trooped inside. “Please put your backpack on the examining table,” Dr. Tutu said.
    He opened the pack and gently set Washington on the table. The monkey blinked his eyes and yawned.
    “These are charming little monkeys, but they are thieves,” Dr. Tutu said. “They steal birds’ eggs right out of the nests. They also take shiny objects, so tell the president to hide his jewelry!”
    Dr. Tutu looked in Washington’s eyes and mouth. He examined his ears, fingers,toes, and even his long tail. He took his temperature and listened to his heart with a stethoscope.
    “This fellow seems very healthy,” Dr. Tutu said. “Which arm did you say was bothering him?”
    “The right one,” Marshall said.
    Dr. Tutu touched the arm, and Washington pulled it away.
    “I’ll need some X-rays,” Dr. Tutu said.
    He set Washington on an X-ray table and took the pictures. Soon he was studying the X-rays. He pointed to a thin line crossing one of the bones.
    “This is the ulna bone, and it has a fracture,” Dr. Tutu said. “The bone was set, but it hasn’t quite healed. Some vet has done a fine job with it. Has he been banging against anything with this arm?”
    The kids quickly told him the story of how they found Washington inside the Washington Monument. They filled him in on how the monkey