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Had it been ten minutes yet? Winston had only spoken with two people. Maybe they shouldn’t have split up in the first place. He looked around for Mal and Jake and didn’t see either of them. Winston could swear the town green was lengthening before his eyes, as if two giants had grabbed it from either end and were stretching it out.

He heard someone call his name and spun around. He was glad to see it was Brendan Root, who was practically skipping toward him. Winston grinned. He’d have to figure out a way to get in touch with Brendan when this was all over. They would have a lot to talk about, if Winston was able to get a word in edgewise.

“Winston!” Brendan said again. “You caught up!”

“Have you guys finished?” Winston asked, dreading the answer.

He was relieved when Brendan only shook his head. “I think we’re almost done with this puzzle. I’m looking for a”—he gave Winston a look like a kid caught stealing cookies. “I can’t tell you what I’m looking for, can I?”

“Probably you shouldn’t.”

Brendan rubbed his hands together hard, as if not blurting things out required a real and true effort on his part. “Are you almost there, too?” he asked.

“We just got here a few minutes ago, so it looks like you guys are still pretty far ahead.”

Brendan couldn’t hide his satisfaction. “I thought maybe we weren’t winning anymore,” Brendan said. “We got hung up at the police station. We lost a lot of time there.”

“Oh?” Winston thought of the cheater. Had he struck again? “What happened?”

Brendan said, “We spent forever staring at those signs, and we didn’t think to move closer to examine the prison or the prisoners. So we didn’t see the numbers on those uniforms for a long, long time. Man, were we stuck. Mr. Lester was going crazy.”

Winston nodded in understanding. “My teacher has had some crazy moments today, too.”

As if responding to his cue, Winston heard his name bellowed from across the park. Winston saw Mr. Garvey, back where they were supposed to meet, waving his hands in the universal gesture of Come on, already!

“I gotta go,” he told Brendan.

“All right. I’ll see you back at the potato chip factory! Good luck!” He was standing less than two feet away, but he waved happily. This was someone having a mighty good time.

When Winston arrived back at the park bench, Mr. Garvey was frowning and tapping his foot impatiently. Mal and Jake had already returned. “Let’s have the report. These people had riddles for you, right?”

“Yeah,” said Winston. “Although nothing I could answer.”

“Me neither,” Mal said. “I kept waiting for ‘Why did the man throw the clock out the window?’ but it never came up.”

Jake said, “I think I know what’s going on, though.”

“Me, too,” Winston said.

“It’s clear what’s going on,” Mr. Garvey said curtly. His state of agitation was on the rise again. “The answers to the riddles are on the backs of these shirts. We need to collect all the riddles and write down all these pictures. Then we can sit quietly and match them up. That’s the cleanest, most straightforward way of attacking this problem.” He withdrew his memo pad and a pen. “Okay, give me the riddles you’ve heard so far.”

Winston recited the two riddles he had heard.

“Only two?” Mr. Garvey said.

“That’s all I had time for before you called me back.”

Mr. Garvey grunted and turned to Mal. “All right, go ahead.”

Mal recited three riddles in his most serious tone. He saw that Mr. Garvey was in no mood for fooling around.

“Jake?”

“Uh . . . I can only remember two,” Jake said. He recited his two riddles.

Mr. Garvey said, “We need them all, Jake. What were the others?”

Jake looked off in the distance as if hoping the riddles had been written on the side of the town hall. He tapped his forehead, looking frustrated.

Mr. Garvey sighed. “Too many knocks in the head playing football, I’d imagine,” he said.

Jake was offended. “I don’t play football. I play baseball.”

Mr. Garvey rolled his eyes as if the distinction between various sports was so small that it was hardly worth arguing about. “Baseball, football. It doesn