“Yow!” Samantha cried, and spun around.

She almost fell down. Her leg felt like it was on fire.

A clown in a checkered body suit stood in the doorway, grinning at her and Nipper. He wore a leather cap and goggles, and the same red nose as all the other SUN clowns. Rainbow suspenders held a silver tank to his back. A long, black, uninflated balloon dangled from his hand.

“So,” he said. “New York Ci-teeeeee.”

He spoke in a high squeal, like a chipmunk. He stretched the balloon, pulling one end over his shoulder.

“I have your super weapon, boy,” he said.

Samantha and Nipper shot each other confused looks.

“And now I know where to find your weeeeeeeeeeird uncle,” he squeaked.

He aimed the other end of his balloon at Samantha’s face.

“Now hand over your umbrella,” he said slowly, “and no one gets hurt.”

Samantha stepped between Nipper and the clown.

“Who are you?” she asked. “And why are you bothering us?”

Nipper pulled a granola bar from his sweatshirt pocket. He looked at it longingly, closed his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

“Wruf! Wruf! Wruf!” barked Dennis from the small square chamber outside the map room. Maybe he saw a moment for greatness. Maybe he wanted to save his friends. Or maybe it was just that he heard the sound of a fresh granola bar hitting the floor.

He bolted through the doorway, ignoring the strange clown who blocked his path, and sped toward Nipper and the dropped snack. The balloon clown blocked the doorway. Dennis aimed straight for the space between the clown’s legs, but his plastic cone was too big. Instead of going through the clown’s legs, he knocked him off his feet. The clown went flying and landed hard on his rear. The silver tank clanged on the stone floor.

Samantha pulled the umbrella from her shoulder and whacked the man on the hand.

“Eeeeeek!” the clown squealed, and dropped the balloon.

He sneered up at Samantha. Then he tucked his legs in and rolled out of the room.

Nipper started to run after him, but Samantha grabbed him by both shoulders.

She heard a hissing sound—louder than a Komodo dragon but quieter than a water rocket. Cautiously, Samantha stepped forward, Nipper at her back, and peered into the square room. Nothing.

Samantha inched across the little room and peeked beyond to the terrace. The clown was gone!

“Up there!” shouted Nipper, pointing to the sky.

The clown was floating high above them. In each fist, he grasped the strings of a dozen colorful balloons.

“I know your seeeeee-crets,” his piercing, squeaky voice rang out.

They watched him rise higher and higher, until he vanished over the Andes Mountains.

Samantha’s leg still stung. A lot.

“You are very noble,” she told Nipper.

“Huh?” he asked.

“You sacrificed your granola bar to save me.”

“Sure,” he replied. “Of course, I knew I still had one bar left.”

He reached his hands into the front pocket of his Yankees sweatshirt.

“Clowns can hurt you,” Nipper added. “But hunger can— Wait. No, no, no!”

He looked at her helplessly.

“Sam! I lost my last granola bar.”