CHAPTER ONE

The sun shown. The day was not too hot or too cold. There was a soft breeze blowing. It was a perfect day for playing golf at The Greenway Golf Course.

A player teed up his golf ball on the fourth hole. He took a practice swing, and stared down the green, grassy fairway. He stepped up to the ball, swung, and blasted it off the tee.

Smiling, he watched as the ball rose up into the air heading for the distant green. At its highest peak, a slight breeze caught the ball, and it drifted off to the right and plopped into the tall, rough grass.

Detective Digger McDirt sprinted out of the way of the hard, white, ball exclaiming, "Dangerous! Dangerous! Another close call!"

Detective Digger McDirt was out of his usual territory. Being a mole, he had tiny eyes. He could barely see, even in the dark, dank tunnels underground where moles live. He used his sensitive nose and long, pink tail to guide himself through the soil. McDirt was always in danger when he traveled above ground, because he could not see in bright light.

With determination, Digger McDirt continued scurrying on his way in search of his assistant, and companion, Sergeant Shagpoat Shrewman.

Shagpoat Shrewman was a shrew, not a mole like Digger. Shrews look much like mice, but they are much smaller than mice and moles. They live mostly above ground. They can see a great deal better than moles.

Shagpoat was proud to be a Sergeant in the UPF, that stands for Underground Police Force, with Detective McDirt. McDirt had been a member of the UPF for many years, and he vigilantly watched over the safety of the mole colony. The mole colony made their home beneath the fairways of The Greenway Golf Course.

Sergeant Shagpoat was also proud of the fact that he could now drive Detective McDirt's Rooter Roadster. After long hours of McDirt's instruction, Shagpoat was able to drive the Rooter Roadster through the underground tunnels at high speeds, and drill new tunnels through the earth with the corkscrew front end of the Roadster's rooter.

Sergeant Shagpoat hopped up on a rock and spied Detective McDirt making his way through the grass toward him. Shagpoat called out, "Detective McDirt! I'm over here on the rock."

McDirt stopped to listen. Since he could barely see in the bright sunshine, he hollered back, "Come here, Shagpoat! I need you quickly. We must go to a meeting."

Shagpoat scrambled through the grass and stood in front of McDirt. "At your service, sir," Shagpoat said. "What's up, Detective?"

"We must go to a meeting with the colony in the center hall right away. You lead the way back, I can't see a thing in this sunlight, and I was almost killed by another golf ball," Digger said.

"What's the meeting all about, Detective?" Shagpoat asked. "Is the colonly still having trouble finding food?"

"Yes, Shag," Digger replied. "The shortage of worms, grubs, insects, roots, and everything in our food chain is disappearing. Word came from Tom Tellitall. He overheard a golfer talking to the Greenway groundskeeper, Turf Greenspan. The golfer told Turf the grass on the fairways was perfect. Turf told him, if you kill the grubs, you kill the moles. Turf is using more and more chemical sprays to kill the insects that we live on, as well as the weeds. We must do something now, before we all starve to death.

What will you do?" asked Shag, leading the way across the fine, green grass on the fourth hole.

Before McDirt could reply, Shag hollered, "Look out, golf ball dropping!"

Plop! The ball narrowly missed McDirt, who rushed over and stood near the hole with the flag pole sticking out.

"I'm safe here for now, Shag," he called. The balls hardly ever land near the flag."

Shag stood for a moment looking at the white golf ball.

"Wait, Detective. There is something I must do," said Shag. He scurried over to the golf ball, put his nose against it, and began pushing. He pushed the ball over the edge of the green It bumped and rolled down the hill into the sand trap below. Then he turned and rushed over to McDirt laughing all the way.

"Guess I fixed that ball," he said. "Now let's hurry. Follow me."

In the distance they could hear a golfer hollering. As they headed off the green, another ball plopped to the ground nearby, barely missing them.

"Dangerous! Dangerous!" McDirt exclaimed. "Hurry, Shag, before we're bonked on the brain."

They trotted through the grass and down the entrance to the tunnel that led to the underground home of the mole colony.

All the moles had gathered in the center hall, because this was a life or death meeting for the colony. They needed food.

Detective McDirt took his place on the mound at the front of the hall. He looked out over the crowd of his brother and sister moles. Shag stood beside McDirt wondering what would happen.

"Quiet! Quiet!" McDirt shouted. "We will begin the meeting now."

Silence fell over the colony as they waited for Detective McDirt to begin.

"My friends, we are faced with a difficult dilemma."

Shag interrupted McDirt saying, "Don't you mean difficult dilamma?"

"No, Shag," McDirt said, squinting his tiny, beady eyes at him. "That's not the way you pronounce dilemma. I'm correct about this."

The moles were used to the arguments between McDirt and Shag, but this time they were impatient. A mole called out from the crowd, "Get on with it, you two!"

"Yes, yes," McDirt said. "I have studied our food supply situation, and it is growing scrimpier by the day."

"Don't you mean skimpier?" Shag interrupted again.

"Get on with it!" the moles hollered.

"Never mind, Shag," McDirt said, glaring at him. "It means the same." Turning back to the colony, McDirt cleared his throat and said, "There is only one thing to do. The colony must move. We must move where there is a better food supply, and we are safe from Turf Greenspan's chemical sprays."

"Yes! Yes! We must move! Let's move!" came shouts of approval from the colony.

McDirt continued, "Sergeant Shagpoat and I will leave right after this meeting to search for a new home for all of us." Turning to Shag, McDirt said, "Sergeant, get my Rooter Roadster and drive to the main tunnel. I will meet you there in ten minutes."

Looking back at the colony, he announced, "We will return as qucikly as possible with news of our new home. Meanwhile, continue your search for food."

One must understand that moles have huge appetites. They eat continually to build the energy they need to find more food. Small, but mighty, moles never rest. They almost swim through the soil using their wide feet and long claws in a breast-stroke motion, pushing aside the dirt, constantly looking for food.

Detective McDirt met Shagpoat in the tunnel. Shag was seated in the back seat of the Rooter Roadster, where the steering wheel was located. McDirt hopped in the front seat, where he could operate the corkscrew nose of the Roadster. If they had to make new tunnels on their trip, the corkscrew nose would be used to jet them through the earth quicker than any mole could dig.

With a puff and a bang, McDirt and Shag were off, speeding through the tunnel in the Roadster.

"Head to your left, Shag," McDirt shouted.

Shag turned down a narrow tunnel that soon ended in a solid wall of dirt.

"Now what?" Shag asked, looking around. "We're at a dead end, Detective."

"Let's get out and burrow above ground. You can look around and tell me what you see." McDirt said.

Digging swiftly, the two soon popped up above ground. Shaking off dirt and leaves, Shag peered around.

"My, my," he said, "We are inside a fence and right in front of a sign."

"Read it! Read it!" McDirt said.

Shag squinted at the sign. "Hold on," he said, "I'm not too good at reading. Hmmm, let me see." Shag continued to squint.

"Come on, come on, Shag," McDirt urged. "Don't let me down now. I think I know where we are, if my memory serves me correctly. The sign should say something about a..."

Shag interrupted McDirt. "I've got it," he said, jumping up and down. Shrews are very, very excitable, nervous creatures. "It says, 'The Golden Glen cemetery...where everyone rests in peace.' That's what we need, Detective, peace."

"That's it!" McDirt proclaimed. "We have arrived at the new home for the colony. No more being bombed by golf balls. No more chemicals and fertilizers. We can live forever in peace in the Golden Glen cemetery."

"Shazam!" Shag shouted, using his favorite word for success. "Let's take some time out and eat, Detective."

"Yes, we will test out the food supply, Shag. That's most important."

McDirt disappeared underground where he found fat worms, grubs and all kinds of juicy insects. Shag rummaged around through leaves and grass and also found worms and a huge cricket that he struggled with and managed to add to his lunch.

"This is a perfect home for us," McDirt said. "The food supply is wonderful. Now, we must decide the best place for the colony to live. Climb up on that stone over there, Shag, and look around."

Shag hopped and struggled on the stone, then stopped.

"What are you doing?" McDirt asked.

"I'm looking at this rock," Shag said. "There is something written on it. Let me see. I think it's someone's name, Detective. Also, a bunch of numbers."

"If my memory serves me correctly, Shag, that is called a headstone. It marks the grave where someone is buried," McDirt said.

"Wow!" Shag exclaimed. "That's kind of creepy. You mean all these stones are here because someone died?"

"That's right, Shag. So, climb on up there and check out the area for me," McDirt said.

Shag again scrambled and slipped, finally reaching the top of the headstone. He shaded his eyes with a paw, and gazed out over the beautiful grounds of The Golden Glen cemetery.

"Hurry!" McDirt called. "I need a report."

"Well, Detective, over that way it's all green grass, big headstones, and little, stone houses," Shag called back, waving in an easterly direction. "But, over this way, there are old, crooked headstones, the grass is tall, and there are lots of weeds," Shag said.

"That's a good report, Shag. Climb down and we'll be on our way," McDirt said. "It's getting late and we must hurry."

Shag and McDirt returned to the Rooter Roadster. They decided the Roadster would be the quickest way to check out their new territory. Detective McDirt wanted to visit the green, grassy area of the cemetery first.

They set the direction finder in the Roadster, and headed east, making a new tunnel as they speeded along.

Then it happened. The earth all around them began to tremble and shake.

"What's happening?" Shag shouted from the back seat. "I can't control the Roadster."

"I don't know," McDirt shouted back. "It could be an earthquake. I've never been through anything like this."

Their tunnel was caving in, and the earth was coming down on top of them.

"Scrunch down in your seat," McDirt yelled. "Protect yourself from the earth-slide. I hear the terrible sound of an engine. Do you hear it, Shag?"

"Yes," Shag screamed. "We're being lifted up. Help! Help!"

"Hang on!" McDirt yelled, clutching the sides of his seat, and trying to duck his head under the dashboard.

Rocks and dirt, stones and pebbles began sliding away from the Roadster as it was scooped up out of the earth into the sunlight. They were being carried high in the air in the bucket of a front-loader digging machine. The bucket jerked and tipped as they were swung out over a deep hole. The bucket suddenly plunged forward, and they were roughly dropped into a huge pile of dirt.

As they landed, Shag and McDirt were nearly thrown out of the Roadster, but they held on with all their strength.
The Roadster rolled down the pile of dirt into the soft grass. Amazingly enough, they landed right side up.

"Are you okay?" McDirt spluttered. "I wonder where we are? I can't see a thing."

Shag rubbed a spot on his head where a pebble had bounced off, leaving a large lump. He looked around, feeling very dizzy from the shaking and rolling of the Roadster.

"We're not far from where we started," Shag said. "For some reason, that big machine is digging a gigantic hole. We're lucky we weren't completely destroyed."

"If my memory serves me correctly," McDirt began, "That large machine is digging a fresh grave for someone who died. That digging happens a lot in cemeteries."

Then, this isn't the place for the colony to settle, Detective," Shag said. "One or two scoops from that machine could pick up the whole colony, and we would all be destroyed. We're back to looking for another home."

"Not necessarily, my friend," McDirt said. "We need to look at the old part of the cemetery. There is no room for new graves in the old cemetery. We would never have to worry about this infernal machine tearing up our home."

"You're right, Detective," Shag said. "We should move on to the old cemetery, right away."

They returned to the Roadster. After a few pings and sputters, they slid below ground, set the direction finder, and headed for the old cemetery.

The Roadster moved quickly through the earth. Despite the beating it had taken, it ran perfectly.

"Let's surface about here, Shag," McDirt shouted.

"I hear you, sir," Shag hollered.

They shot above ground not far from a crooked headstone. As they stepped out of the Roadster, they saw a fat bird pulling a long, slimy worm from the ground with it's beak. He gobbled it down with great pleasure. Turning, he noticed McDirt and Shag watching him.

"Shazam!" Shag said. "Did you see the size of that worm, Detective?"

"I certainly did. A jumbo, if ever there was one. Made me hungry," McDirt said.

"Hello, Hello, gentlemen," the large bird chirped. "Welcome to the old Golden Glen Cemetery. I'm known as Hoppin' Robin, among my friends."

"Greetings," McDirt called back. "We have just arrived from the Greenway Golf Course. We are looking for a new home for our colony of moles. Our food supply is almost gone because of the chemicals used on the golf course."

"Poison! Poison!" Hoppin' Robin said. "We don't go there to eat anymore. You must be hungry, Please, let me share a worm or two with you."

He hopped around, cocked his head one way then the other, and stabbed his strong beak into the ground. Yanking and pulling, he produced another jumbo worm. He laid it out in front of McDirt and Shag. They began feasting on the jumbo worms Robin shared with them and became friends.

"How long have you lived in the cemetery?" McDirt asked.

"About two years," Hoppin' Robin said. "It's beautiful here, very quiet and peaceful. This part of the cemetery is quite old, and since people rarely visit here, they don't mow the grass often, or care for it like the new cemetery."

"How about the food supply?" Shag asked. "Would there be enough worms and insects to feed a colony of moles?"

"Bountiful, bountiful!" Hoppin' Robin said. "You will never run out of food. But there is one thing." Robin hesitated, and looked at them with his shiny, black eyes. "Remember, you'll be living in a cemetery."

"What about living in a cemetery?" McDirt asked. "Couldn't be as dangerous as the golf course, with those balls bonking us."

"No golf balls here, but there are other THINGS, especially at night, when the moon is full." Robin said.

"We would be below ground most of the time," McDirt said. Neither a full moon, nor the dark of night would bother us."

"Of course, that's true, sir," Robin said. "However, there are lots of THINGS, even below the ground, in a cemetery. It's hard to explain, but I imagine you will all get used to it."

"Detective, we must be getting back to the colony," Shag said, jumping about and trembling, as only a shrew can do.

"Yes, we'll leave right away," McDirt said. Turning to Hoppin' Robin, he continued. "Thank you for the feast and advice. If no one objects, we'll be arriving sometime tomorrow with the colony. It will be a slow move for us with the children and old moles along. We will get an early start."

"Good, good. We'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Goodbye, and have a safe journey," Robin said, and flew off over the Golden Glen Cemetery.

"Detective...wwwwhat...wwhy...I...I..." Shag nervously stuttered.

"What's wrong, Shag? Why are you so upset?" McDirt asked.

"Something wierd, sir. What did Hoppin' Robin mean by THINGS underground? This makes me nervous. What does night, and the full moon have to do with our living here?" Shag asked, shivering like it was a cold winter day.

"Get in the Roadster, and don't be so skitterish. Everything looks perfect to me. The colony will love it here."

"Don't you mean skatterish, Detective?" Shag said.

"No, I mean skitterish. Don't start arguing with me now. We must hurry back."

They climbed into the Rooter Roadster and were soon shooting through the earth toward the golf course.

High in a tree, a very large Owl had been watching Shag and Detective McDirt.

"Hoo! Hoo!" he said. "There are a couple of plump, little critters. I'll have to keep my eyes on them. Hoo! Hoo!"

END OF PART ONE

What THINGS will Detective Digger McDirt, Sergeant Shagpoat Shrewman, and the colony find in the Old Glen Cemetery on a moonlight night?
Read on to Chapter2 of Digger McDirt.

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