The Complete Screech Owls, Volume 3 - Softcover

Roy MacGregor

4.65

23 ratings by Goodreads

9780771054891: The Complete Screech Owls, Volume 3

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0771054890 ISBN 13: 9780771054891

Publisher: McClelland & Stewart, 2006

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Celebrating ten years and more than one million books in print!

The third four-in-one edition to celebrate ten years of an award-winning, bestselling series.

#9: Nightmare in Nagano
The Screech Owls can't believe their good luck! They are flying thousands of miles to Nagano, Japan, the host city for the 1998 Winter Olympic Games - and they'll be playing in Big Hat, the Olympic arena. The attractions of Japan are quickly forgotten, however, when the mayor of Nagano is murdered at the tournament's opening-night banquet. Who would want such a nice man dead? And what has it got to do with the Screech Owls? . . . And what is the source of Nish's new superhuman powers?

#10: Danger in Dinosaur Valley
Summer has come early to the town of Drumheller, Alberta. Drumheller is the "Dinosaur Capital of Canada," home of the fierce Albertosaurus - cousin to Tyrannosaurus rex - whose ancient bones were discovered here more than one hundred years ago. One day when Nish returns from mountain biking, he claims he almost became breakfast for a living, breathing Albertosaurus! Of course his friends don't believe him, but when Travis, Sarah, and their teammates go for their own ride in the hills, they come back with a monstrous story that makes international headlines.

#11: The Ghost of the Stanley Cup
The Screech Owls have come to Ottawa to play in the Little Stanley Cup peewee tournament. Mr. Dillinger is also taking them to visit some of the region's famous ghosts: the ghost of a dead prime minister; the ghost of a man hanged for murder; the ghost of the famous painter Tom Thomson. At first the Owls thought this was Mr. Dillinger's best idea ever, until Travis and his friends begin to suspect that one of these ghosts could be for real.

#12: The West Coast Murders
The Screech Owls' journey to Vancouver had begun as an innocent hockey road trip. They had come to play in the new "Three-on-three" shinny tournament. But when the team headed out to sea to watch the first whales of the season return to the West Coast, the dream trip turned into a horrifying adventure. Two bodies - one a dolphin, one a man - bobbing in the tide. And when Nish stared down at the floating, twisting body of the man and announced "We know him!" the Screech Owls also knew they were in the middle of a baffling mystery.
Screech Owls books have won the Our Choice Award and the Manitoba Young Reader’s Choice Award. They have been endorsed by the Canadian Toy Testing Council and shortlisted for the Silver Birch Award, the Red Cedar Award, the Arthur Ellis Award, the Ottawa-Carleton Award, and the Palmar�s de Communication-Jeunesse.

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About the Author:

Roy MacGregor has been involved in hockey all his life. Growing up in Huntsville, Ontario, he competed for several years against a kid named Bobby Orr, who was playing nearby Parry Sound. He later returned to the game when he and his family settled in Ottawa, where he worked for the Ottawa Citizen and became the Southam National Sports Columnist. He still plays old-timers hockey and has been a minor-hockey coach for more than a decade.

Roy MacGregor is the author of several classics in the literature of hockey. Home Game (written with Ken Dryden) and The Home Team were both No. 1 national bestsellers. He has also written the game’s best-known novel, The Last Season. His other books include Road Games, The Seven A.M. Practice, and, most recently, A Life in the Bush, a memoir of his father. He has also written books about native leaders and the Ottawa Valley.

Roy MacGregor is now a senior columnist for the National Post. He and his wife, Ellen, live in Kanata, Ontario. They have four children, Kerry, Christine, Jocelyn, and Gordon.

Travis would have to find an elevator. There was no other way to get Nish up to the next floor to the Great Hall where they kept all the nhl trophies, including the Stanley Cup.

He asked one of the custodians for directions. There was an elevator at the rear, she told him. It was for the staff to come and go from their offices on the third and fourth floors, but it was also available for the use of anyone in need — and his friend in the wheelchair was certainly in need.

Travis pushed Nish down a long corridor, at the end of which were sliding doors and a single button. Travis pushed the button and the doors opened on an empty elevator.

“Lingerie, please.” Nish announced, as if he were addressing an elevator operator in a department store.

“You’re sick,” Travis said.

Nish grinned: “And proud of it.”

They rose to the second floor and the doors began to open.

Suddenly, both were blinded by a flash of light!

At first Travis �couldn’t see, but as the flash faded from his eyes he could make out two bulky figures, one with a camera half-hidden in his opened coat.

The men seemed caught off guard. The man taking the pictures — dark, surly, with a scar down the side of his face as if he’d run into a skate — seemed to be trying to hide the camera. The other �— tall, balding, but with a ponytail tied behind his head — seemed nervous.

“How ya doin’, boys?” the tall man asked.

“Okay,” Travis answered, unsure.

“We’re just taking some shots for a few renovations,” the man explained.

Travis pushed Nish past. It �didn’t make any sense. The Hockey Hall of Fame was almost brand new. Why would it need fixing up already?

“What the heck’s with them?” Nish asked as they moved further down the corridor.

“I have no idea,” said Travis.

When they got to the Great Hall where the trophies were — a dazzle of lights on silver and glass, the Norris, the Calder, the Lady Byng, the Hart, the Vezina — several of the Screech Owls were already positioned in the designated area for taking their own photographs.

The scene made Travis even more suspicious of the men. If they had come in here with a camera, surely it was for this. Why would they want to take a picture of an elevator?

“There’s the Stanley Cup!” Nish shouted, pointing.

Derek and Willie were already there. The cup looked glorious. So shining, so rich, so remarkably familiar, even though none of them had ever seen it in real life before this moment.

“This �isn’t the real one,” said Willie, who knew everything.

“Whadya mean?” Nish scowled, disbelieving.

Willie pointed back over his shoulder. “The real one, the original one that Lord Stanley gave back in 1893, is back over there in the vault. This building used to be a bank, you know. They keep it back there because it’s considered too fragile to present to the players, so they present this one — which in a way makes this one the real Stanley Cup as well.”

Travis looked to see what Willie was talking about. He could see another room back behind huge steel doors — “lord stanley’s vault,” the sign overhead said. There were more lights in there and what appeared to be another, smaller trophy.

And the two men were there, too!

The shorter, dark one had his camera out again. He was flashing pictures as fast as he could. But not of the cup, of everything else: the walls, the vault doors, the base the trophy stood on.

What were they up to?

“Wait here,” Travis said to Nish.

Nish turned back, hardly caring. He could get Data to push him if necessary. But anyway he �wasn’t much interested in leaving the cup he was planning to carry around Maple Leaf Gardens.

Travis circled wide around the other trophies so he could come up on the entrance to the smaller room without being seen.

There was no one in the vault but the two men, still taking photographs. It made no sense.

Travis kept close to the wall and edged to the doorway. He could hear the taller man talking.

“It’s perfect,” he kept saying. “Perfect.”

“No one can see from any of the other areas. There’s only the one surveillance camera, the main alarm, and a secondary alarm on the display case. We plan it right and we can be in and out of here in less than thirty minutes.”

The man with the camera stopped and turned, scowling.

“Keep it down. You wanna tell the whole country?”

The tall one laughed. “The whole country will know soon enough — and they’ll pay whatever it takes to get this baby back, believe me.”

Travis could feel his legs shaking, and it �wasn’t from the CN Tower run.

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