Samantha and Uncle Paul entered through the side door.

“Wruf!” barked Dennis.

The pug’s plastic cone clattered on the kitchen floor as he scampered up to them.

Samantha thought he was going to lick her hand, the way he usually greeted people. Instead, he darted behind her uncle, as if hiding from something.

“I am one hundred percent glad to see both of you two,” said her father.

George Spinner wore a headband with a glowing lamp on the front, about the size and shape of a quarter. It was bright, but not as bright as some of the lightbulbs he often brought home from work at the American Institute of Lamps. He sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by charts, maps, a pad of graph paper, and his professional set of 256 colored markers. An unidentifiable electric gadget blinked in one of his hands.

Samantha decided that it really was a good thing she and her uncle had come back from New York to help. Her dad was a genius with electronics and math, but she doubted he could find Nipper if he were in the next room.

Samantha heard a tapping sound. She looked at Dennis. The pug pawed at his cone. His claws rattled on the plastic.

“When you take care of your loved ones, sometimes you have to do things that seem ridiculous,” said Uncle Paul.

Samantha wasn’t sure if he was talking about the dog’s cone, her father’s gadgets, or maybe something else. He had relaxed and switched back to normal during their ride home, but she didn’t ask him any more questions for the rest of the trip. She didn’t want to set him off again.

Bzzt. Zzt-zzt.

Her uncle froze. His eyes shifted left and right. Something had set him off again.

Bzzt. Zzt-zzt.

The sound was coming from…Samantha looked down. Her dad wore blue shoes she had never seen before.

Bzzt. Zzt-zzt.

And they buzzed.

They looked, just a little, like traditional Dutch wooden shoes: clogs. She had learned about them years ago when her class studied the Netherlands. But these were made of blue plastic and had tiny lightbulbs pointing forward. Wires and miniature electronic parts clung to the sides and top. Each shoe had a small video panel above the heel. Samantha suspected these were the “dog clogs.”

Bzzt. Zzt-zzt.

The shoes buzzed again. Uncle Paul shook his head, as if he were trying to clear out marbles that were rolling around in his brain.

“Why, George?” he asked Samantha’s dad. “We’re missing a kid, not a dog.”

“I’ve adjusted the frequency,” said Mr. Spinner. “They should be able to pick up the sounds of any coins or toys or other items if they fall out of Nipper’s pockets.”

He looked at Samantha.

“That sort of thing happens a lot, you know,” he said.

She nodded.

Samantha watched as her father stood up, reached down with a tiny screwdriver, and tapped at one of the clogs.

“Really, Dad?” asked Samantha. “Electronic shoes?”

“Electricity and magnetism can produce all kinds of interesting effects,” said her father, turning a small screw in both directions.

“You’re not kidding,” said Uncle Paul, pulling at one of his ears.

The sound from the dog clogs seemed to really bother him. Samantha didn’t like the buzzing sound, either, but it wasn’t as bad as Uncle Paul made it seem. As she watched him, he tugged at his ear two more times.

“Are these shoes really helping you find Nipper, Dad?” she asked.

“Well…I haven’t had any luck so far,” he said, and twisted another small screw back and forth.

Her father stood up, turned, and grabbed something from the table. It was Nipper’s hand lens. Her father closed one eye and stared at her through the glass.

“Maybe the clues are already here and I just don’t know where to look,” he said.

The beam of his headlamp glowed through the magnifier toward Samantha’s face, forcing her to squint.

“Can I hold the hand lens for now?” asked Samantha.

Her dad looked confused.

“That’s what some people call a magnifying glass,” she added.

“Oh. Of course,” said Mr. Spinner, passing it to her.

Samantha dropped the lens into her purse. If she was going to use the Plans to help find Nipper, she’d need it for sure.

“I’ve been racking my brain,” said Mr. Spinner. “Maybe someone other than Nipper himself is responsible for his disappearance.”

He walked over to the table, picked up a notepad, and tapped at it.

“Is there anyone in our neighborhood who has a history of making threats or saying aggressive and violent things to Nipper?” he asked.

Samantha smiled. She could think of someone.

“The tiniest detail could be a clue,” said Mr. Spinner. “Maybe there’s someone who addresses him by his full name instead of the nickname we all use.”

Samantha smiled a little more. Someone definitely came to mind.

“Okay, Dad,” she said. “Take off that headlamp.”

She waited for him to remove the light. Then she headed across the room.

“Follow me,” she said, and opened the side door.