The Dashing Dog Mystery Read Free

say,” Nancy shot back.
    â€œHumph!” Petra stuck her nose in the air and marched away. Prince Fabian followed obediently.
    â€œIgnore her,” George whispered to Nancy. “She’s a spoiled brat.”
    Nancy nodded. “She sure is.”
    â€œExcuse me!”
    Nancy turned around. Mrs. Vanderpool was standing there, smiling sweetly.
    â€œExcuse me,” Mrs. Vanderpool repeated in a low voice. “Nancy, is it? How much do you want for that collar? I
must
have it for one of my Yorkies.”
    Nancy was surprised by Mrs. Vanderpool’srequest. “Thank you, but it’s not for sale,” she said.
    Mrs. Vanderpool stopped smiling. “Well!”
    After she had gone, Bess said,
“Everyone
seems to want the collar.”
    â€œYes, but it’s Chip’s,” Nancy stated firmly. “We won it fair and square.”
    â€œThat’s right!” George agreed.
    Nancy glanced at her watch. “Hannah will be picking us up in about twenty minutes,” she said to her friends. “Let’s check out the rest of the salon.”
    â€œGood idea,” Bess said. George nodded.
    Leaving Chip to play with a couple of other Labs, the girls began walking around the salon.
    They saw the Shampooch Room. Rex was demonstrating his new line of bathing products on a really wet golden retriever.
    They saw the Doggie Den, where a bunch of dogs were sitting on an overstuffed couch. They were watching cartoons about dogs chasing cats.
    The Dashing Dog also had an outsidearea. In it were a covered run, kennels, and a big patch of dirt. Petra’s dog, Prince Fabian, was chasing a couple of other terriers up and down the run.
    After a while the girls went back inside. The crowd had thinned somewhat. Nancy headed over to the counter so she could pick up the collar. Hannah would be arriving in just a few minutes.
    Nancy got to the counter—and gasped. The black velvet cushion was there. But the collar was gone!

3

On the Case
    Nancy glanced around the salon. The collar was nowhere to be seen.
    Bess and George were standing nearby, checking out a display of doggie sweaters. “Bess! George!” she cried out.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” George asked her.
    Nancy pointed to the velvet cushion. “The collar is gone!” she announced.
    â€œWhat!” Bess gasped.
    Rex Rumford happened to pass by at that moment. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands were still wet with shampoo and dogfur. “Hi, ladies. Are you enjoying yourselves?” he called out cheerfully.
    â€œMr. Rumford, have you seen my Stella Sipowitz collar?” Nancy asked him. “I left it here, and now it’s gone.”
    Rex stopped in his tracks and frowned. “There must be some mistake.”
    â€œNo, it’s definitely gone,” Nancy insisted.
    â€œHmm, well, maybe someone picked it up by mistake and set it down somewhere,” Rex said.
    The four of them searched the area around the counter. There was no sign of the collar. Then they searched every inch of the salon. Chip trailed along, sniffing like a bloodhound.
    But the four of them—plus Chip—had no luck finding the collar. It was definitely gone.
    Nancy glanced around the salon, trying to figure out who might have seen the collar. But a lot of the guests had left, including Petra, Mrs. Vanderpool, and Lucas.
    Alice Cahill stopped Nancy near thedoorway of the Doggie Lounge. Her green pen was poised over her notepad.
    â€œExcuse me, but did I hear you say that your collar is missing?” she said eagerly. “I’m Alice Cahill. I write the ’Pet Corner’ column for the
River Heights Gazette.
I’d
love
to have a quote from you for my column.”
    â€œA quote?” Nancy asked her.
    Alice nodded. “Yes. As in, what do you think happened to your collar? Do you think there’s a thief on the loose? Is River Heights being hit by a wave of doggie-collar crime? Do