“I knew it,” said Nipper, looking up at the elephant-shaped neon sign. “You’re putting me back into a ball.”

“Well…yes,” said Samantha. “But I’m going with you this time.”

“You’re putting us back into a ball,” Nipper complained.

This was exactly why Samantha had decided not to tell Nipper exactly where they were headed.

A little more than a week ago, their very unpleasant neighbor, Missy Snoddgrass, had trapped Nipper inside a giant ball of yarn. He’d rolled away and ended up inside the kogelbaan, a huge, underground, person-sized marble machine. Monkeys and daredevils had chased him. A French detective had arrested him. A thief with rainbow hair had thrown metal boomerangs at him, too. Clearly it had been a rough experience. Every time her brother talked about it, the story grew more dramatic and dangerous, and took longer to tell.

Samantha was pretty sure her brother’s complaining wasn’t really about the kogelbaan. Nipper loved roller coasters. Sometimes he rode them until he barfed! He was actually just upset about the Yankees, and it was turning him into a major-league whiner about everything.

But the kogelbaan had definitely been an amazing discovery. And it was a super-secret way for them to travel to Michigan…and look for Uncle Paul.

Samantha spotted the hidden button on the side of the Elephant Car Wash.

“I’m doomed,” Nipper said quietly, staring at his shoes. “Everyone is doomed.”

“You have exceeded your maximum time limit for whining,” said Samantha. “Besides, we’re not riding this for long—we’re just taking the ball to the next station.”

He shook his head and seemed to snap out of it a little.

“Okay, Sam,” he said. “I’m ready for this ball game.”

“Good,” she said. “Now stand back.”

She reached out with her umbrella and tapped the button. A section of wall slid sideways. Water splashed around the entrance, but they stood far enough away to stay dry.

“Follow me,” she told Nipper.

Samantha slung the umbrella over her shoulder and glanced at her hand. A few stray salt crystals sparkled on her palm. She was pretty sure it was Uncle Paul who had put salt into the mitten before he’d left with the SNOW. But why?

In a spray of mist, she began to slide forward on the slick tile floor. As if balanced on an invisible surfboard, Samantha put her hands out and coasted down the long, wet passageway.

“Foul balls,” she heard Nipper mutter behind her as she slid into the secret underground lobby leading to the kogelbaan station.