Gabe stuck two fingers in his mouth and let loose a high, piercing whistle that echoed across the pond.

“Yo, Freddy!” he shouted. “Come out and play!”

“You’re asking him to come out and play?” Sammy said incredulously. “He’s an alligator, not a cocker spaniel. You want him to do tricks, too?”

The rest of the Orioles laughed. It was such a mild, sunny day that they had all decided to walk back to the hotel after practice. As they passed the muddy home of Freddy the Gator, they’d been drawn by loud, mysterious splashing sounds that died down as soon as they stopped to investigate.

Now they were all leaning against the chain-link fence, staring at the dark expanse of junglelike foliage and coffee-brown water.

Despite the warm sunshine, Corey felt a chill run through him. The whole place looked even spookier than the last time they were here. He could imagine all manner of creatures slithering and creeping and crawling through the trees and brush.

Not to mention the twelve-foot killing machine silently skimming somewhere through the murky water, huge jaws ratcheting in and out, razor-sharp teeth fixed in a crooked, scary smile as it stalked its next meal.

Or maybe it was simply sunning itself on one of the far banks, lying still as a rotting log, until it could snatch and devour some poor, unsuspecting woodland creature that ventured hesitantly into the swamplike ooze for a drink of water.

“Okay, I’m going to say something that might be very controversial,” Ethan began.

“You and controversial,” Katelyn said with a sneer. “Those are two words that absolutely don’t go together. When I think of you, nerd, the first word that comes to mind is, oh, boring.”

Ethan ignored her and kept staring at the pond. “I don’t think there’s a big gator in there,” he said finally. “In fact, I would be willing to bet all the money I have, which is seven dollars and forty-nine cents, that there isn’t.”

The rest of the Orioles turned to look at him.

“I don’t think there’s anything in that pond but a bunch of fish,” he said, nodding with conviction. “And maybe some turtles and frogs.”

“Oh?” Gabe said. “And what leads you to this stunning conclusion?”

“A few things,” Ethan answered. “If there was a huge man-eating alligator in there, wouldn’t there be signs all over the place?”

“Signs?” Sammy said.

“Warning signs,” Ethan said. “Big signs that scream ‘Danger! Killer Alligator on Premises! Do Not Approach!’ Or something like that. You see any signs?”

“Dude, there’s a fence around the place,” Gabe said. “What’s that for? To protect us from your killer fish and turtles and frogs?”

Ethan snorted and shook his head. “Look how low this fence is,” he said. “Anyone could climb over it in five seconds. A six-year-old could hop this thing in a minute.”

The Orioles looked at one another dubiously.

“Think about this, too,” Ethan said. “How many teams are in this tournament? Thirty, right? How many kids is that?”

“You’re looking at me?” Gabe said. “What am I, a human calculator?”

“Let’s say it’s more than three hundred kids,” Ethan went on. “And they have ten or twelve tournaments here every year. How could they have all those kids walking around with a killer alligator lurking on the grounds?”

“He’s not ‘lurking on the grounds,’” Justin said anxiously. “He’s lurking in that pond.”

“No, he’s not,” Ethan said. “If there was a gator around here, the people who run this tournament would be opening themselves up to all sorts of liability issues.”

“Liability issues,” Gabe repeated, looking at the others.

“Let’s go over a few,” Ethan said. “Failure to keep grounds safely maintained—I think an alligator on the loose would qualify as unsafe, don’t you? Failure to warn tournament participants of any hidden dangers. Inadequate supervision of a hazardous area. I could go on and on.”

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” Sammy said. “Let me guess. Your dad’s a lawyer, right?”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Sammy said, rolling his eyes.

“With all due respect, counselor,” Gabe said, “you’re out of your mind. Look at this place! You don’t think there’s an alligator in there somewhere?”

Ethan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled his gear bag from around his shoulders and dramatically tossed it aside. He took off his cap and flung that aside, too.

Then he began climbing the fence.

“Not only don’t I think there’s an alligator in there,” he said, “I know there’s not. And I’ll prove it.”

The rest of the Orioles watched with stunned expressions. But before he could get halfway up, Katelyn tackled him and wrestled him to the ground.

“No, you don’t!” she said. “I don’t care how dumb you are. You’re not committing suicide while I’m around. What, you get eaten by a crocodile, and I’m supposed to live with that the rest of my life? Or he just chomps off one of your legs and that’s on my conscience forever? Uh-uh. Not gonna happen.”

“Let me go!” Ethan yelled, struggling to free himself. “It’s not suicide! There’s nothing in there!”

“Shhhh, you’re just having a little outbreak of stupidity,” Katelyn said in a soothing voice while sitting on his chest and pinning his shoulders to the ground. “It should go away in a minute or two.”

Just then they heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel. A battered station wagon was coming down the road. When it skidded to a stop not far from them, a frail-looking old man in white overalls got out.

He nodded politely to the Orioles and opened the back door on the driver’s side. Out jumped a little white terrier, wagging its tail and sniffing cautiously at the air.

The old man started walking around the fence, the little dog following happily. When the two got to the far side, the old man appeared to pull out a key and fumble with a padlock until a gate finally swung open.

“He’s going in there!” Corey said in a hushed voice. “How can he go in there?”

“Because there’s nothing in there!” Ethan squeaked from underneath Katelyn.

But the others ignored him.

“Maybe he’s a professional gator wrestler,” Mickey said. “I saw a show about those guys last month. They’re crazy!”

Gabe shot him a look. “The man’s like a hundred years old. He couldn’t wrestle that little dog, never mind a gator.”

“Whatever he is,” said Katelyn, standing and pulling a disheveled Ethan to his feet, “that little dog will be Freddy’s appetizer. And the old guy will be the entrée.”

They watched the old man close the gate. Then he and the dog disappeared from sight behind a stand of high grass and cypress trees.

“If we hear a bloodcurdling scream,” Justin said with a shiver, “I am so going to freak out.”

Five minutes went by, then ten. Still there was no sign of the old man and his dog. Suddenly they heard a loud thump and saw a splash at the far end of the pond. Almost immediately, they heard the frenzied, high-pitched barking of the little dog.

The Orioles gasped and looked at one another.

“That’s it, Freddy got the old man!” Justin cried. “And the dog is crazy with grief! Because he’s lost his master, his best friend! Snatched by a monster that dates back to prehistoric times and pulled to a watery grave in those powerful jaws.”

The others—all except Ethan—nodded solemnly.

Except…now they could see the old man and the little dog returning along the same path.

The old man was whistling as he closed and locked the gate. He picked up a stick and threw it ahead of him, and the little dog chased it.

When they neared the station wagon, the old man noticed the Orioles gaping at him.

“Something the matter, folks?” he asked.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Mickey blurted.

The man looked surprised. “Afraid of what, son?” he said.

“Of the gator, of course!” Mickey said. “Freddy the Gator?”

“Oh, they got you with that story, too.” The old man chuckled. “Yeah, at least a few teams always fall for that one. There’s no gator in there, folks. We keep this area locked so no one wanders in. I’m just here to make sure the drainpipe isn’t clogged. But the only creatures in that pond are a few trout and a few turtles. Far as I know, they can’t kill you.”

With that, the old man lifted the dog into the car and they drove off.

“I don’t know,” Justin said, staring after them. “Maybe turtles and trout can’t kill you. But they could definitely mess you up.”

Ethan picked up his gear bag and walked to the front of the group with a triumphant look.

“Hate to say I told you so,” he said, “but I told you so. Now, I think all of you owe me an apology.…”

Katelyn walked up and punched him hard in the shoulder. “Shut it, nerd,” she said. “No one likes a know-it-all.”