儿童英语读物 The Mystery of the Secret Message CHAPTER 7 The Greenfield Spy

Violet! What is it?” Henry cried, next to her.



But Violet was frozen in the darkness. She was afraid to move. The dark shape did not move, either.



“Wait, I’ll get the light.” Rick pulled the chain of an overhead light.



When she saw the “monster,” Violet giggled 1 nervously 2. It was a black wool cape 3 thrown over a coatrack.



“I thought it was a person,” she said.



“That’s Mr. Phineas T. Goodbody’s opera cape,” Rick said. “He donated it to the historical society many years ago. I haven’t found a place for it yet.”



Jessie could see why. Every square inch of the cramped 4 space was crowded with objects. Hats topped towers of books. Papers overflowed 5 from a huge wooden desk. Unpacked 6 boxes and bags sat on the floor.



“Wow!” Benny exclaimed. “Look at all these neat things!”



“And I have to sort every piece of it,” Rick said, riffling through a stack of papers. “Here’s what I wanted you guys to see.”



Carefully he smoothed an old yellowed sheet. It was a drawing. Faint writing had been scribbled 7 above the figure of a soldier.



“That’s the Minuteman statue,” Jessie said.



Rick nodded. “This is Franklin Bond’s original sketch 8 for the statue. Can you read what he wrote at the top?”



Benny tilted 9 his head. “I can read some, but this writing is too squiggly.”



Rick laughed. “Yes, old script is hard to read. Franklin says that Josiah Wade 10 was a teenage spy during the Revolutionary War. Josiah carried secret messages in the hollow buttons of his coat!”



“A spy!” Benny cried. “So there was a spy in Greenfield!”



“That was a long time ago,” Henry said meaningfully. He knew Benny was thinking about the person who sent the message photograph. Now that the photograph had been stolen, they should be suspicious of everyone, including Rick Bass 11.



“You were right,” Violet said to Rick. “Josiah wasn’t a soldier. But why did Franklin Bond make a soldier statue?”



“I think it was his little joke on the town,” replied Rick. “Franklin wanted to be a great artist. He accepted the statue job because he needed money.”



“I thought Mr. Bond liked Josiah Wade,” Jessie remarked.



“He did,” Rick agreed. “They were great friends, despite their age difference. According to the notes on this drawing, Josiah gave Franklin a gift when he was a boy.”



“What was it?” Benny asked.



Rick shook his head. “Franklin doesn’t say. I think he liked keeping secrets. But I believe I can find the present.”



“Where?” asked Violet, glancing around the cluttered 12 room. How could anyone find anything in this mess?



Rick tapped the drawing. “See that little box penciled lightly near the statue?”



Violet bent 13 closer. Now she could read the old-fashioned handwriting. “ ‘The Statue’s Secret,’ ” she read aloud. “What does that mean?”



Benny felt a current of air hit his face. Had someone opened the outer door?



Rick grinned broadly. “I’ll bet a piece of Mrs. Turner’s apple pie that Josiah’s gift is hidden inside the statue! That little box is a secret compartment 14!”



Before Benny could say anything, Dawn Wellington and Sylvia Pepper came into the museum. Benny wondered if they had heard Rick talking about the statue’s secret.



Rick jumped with surprise. “Ladies,” he said. “What can I do for you?”



“We’re looking for Mr. Alden,” Dawn replied. “Is he here?”



“No,” Henry said. “Grandfather is still trying to find a construction crew.”



“That’s what I wanted to see him about,” Sylvia said in her bossy 15 tone. “I heard the original contractors 16 backed out, so I hired another crew. They’ll be here tomorrow.”



Jessie was amazed. Sylvia Pepper didn’t seem like the type to help Grandfather with the festival.



“And I wanted to tell Mr. Alden that we can salvage 17 most of the decorations,” Dawn said. “We’ll just make the garlands shorter. Sylvia and I can fix the wreaths.”



“This is terrific,” Rick said. He walked over to them, leaving the drawing on the table. “Mr. Alden will be pleased. He’s worked so hard on the festival.”



Rick and Dawn began talking about the vandalism of the past few days. Sylvia moved over to the table.



Jessie watched her. There was something odd about that woman.



Just then Sylvia dropped her purse. Its contents spilled all over the table.



“I’m so clumsy,” she muttered. As she picked up lipsticks 18 and coins, she stared intently at the drawing. The woman’s eyes grew round.



She acts like she’s seen that drawing before, Jessie thought.



But how was that possible? Rick Bass had only discovered Franklin Bond’s papers yesterday. How could Sylvia Pepper have seen that drawing before?



And how, she wondered, did Sylvia know the construction crew had canceled?



“Now we have two mysteries to solve,” Benny said. “The one about the message photograph. And now the mystery of the statue.”



Jessie tied a ribbon around a bag of oatmeal cookies. “Don’t forget the strange things happening in the town square lately,” she said.



“Okay. Three mysteries.” Benny took a fistful of cookies from the large tin on the kitchen table. He put three in a small plastic sack, then ate one.



“Benny Alden!” Violet scolded, laughing. “We can’t sell a bag with a cookie missing. People want to buy a full bag.”



“Mrs. McGregor’s oatmeal cookies are worth more than four for a quarter,” Henry said. “But Violet’s right, Benny. Make sure four cookies go in each sack.”



“And no more in your stomach,” Jessie added.



The Aldens had been working since dinner, helping 19 Mrs. McGregor make her famous oatmeal-raisin cookies to sell at the refreshment 20 booth at the Winter Festival.



The housekeeper 21 retired 22 to her room when the children volunteered to bag the cookies.



“I hope we make lots of money from Mrs. McGregor’s cookies,” Benny said.



“And from the pictures Violet will take,” Henry added. “There should be enough money to fix the statue’s base.”



“Do you think the town will vote to move the statue?” Violet asked.



“Who knows?” Henry shrugged 23. “Grandfather will bring the ballot 24 box home and count the votes himself tomorrow night. And on Saturday, he’ll announce the result.”



“Grandfather is working awfully 25 hard on the festival,” Benny said. “We haven’t seen him much all day.”



“That’s because he’s busy talking to people,” Henry explained. “It’s a big job, putting on this festival.”



“I’m glad we’re able to help,” said Violet. She plopped another bag in the carton on the floor.



“He’s been gone since dinner,” Jessie said, glancing at the clock. “I hope he doesn’t get home too late tonight.”



“You’ve kept Grandfather organized,” Henry said to her.



“Well, I write everything down,” Jessie said modestly. “And put it in the notebook.” Suddenly she clapped her hand over her mouth.



Violet looked at her in concern. “What is it, Jess? What’s wrong?”



“The festival notebook,” she whispered. “I left it in town!”



“It’ll be okay,” Henry assured her. “We’ll get it tomorrow.”



Jessie shook her head. “No. I can’t leave it there, Henry. The person who’s been wrecking 26 the square might find it. He could use it to do more damage.”



Violet stared at Henry. “Jessie’s right. We can’t take that chance.”



“Let’s go get it,” Henry suggested.



“Grandfather’s not home yet,” Jessie said. “I hate to cause him more trouble.”



“I didn’t mean in the car,” Henry said. “You and I can ride our bikes. It won’t take long. Benny and Violet, you should stay here and let Mrs. McGregor know that we’ll be right back.”



Quickly, Henry and Jessie scrambled 27 into their jackets and slipped out the back door.



Jessie was glad when they reached the lane leading into the town square. She parked her bike next to Henry’s.



“Where did you leave the notebook?” asked Henry.



“Behind the bench by the town hall,” Jessie replied, pulling her jacket tighter. A sharp wind had sprung up. “I put it there when Benny found Violet’s camera. Then, with all that talk about the hidden compartment in the statue, I forgot about it.”



“We’ll get it now and hurry home,” Henry said, heading across the pavement.



“It’s so quiet out here,” Jessie said, listening to the soft thud of her sneakers on the bricks.



The town square was lit by lampposts at all four corners. The tall, dark Minuteman statue was illuminated 28 by a spotlight 29.



Then another, stronger light slashed 30 across the square.



Henry stopped. “Someone’s there!” he whispered. “He has a flashlight!”



The light switched off abruptly 31, leaving the square shadowy.



Jessie saw the figure run away from the statue. It was a small person, with a flowing ponytail.



It looked like Dawn Wellington.