Karen's Treasure

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by Ann M. Martin


  “Cool!” I cried. Mommy threw me a Look. “I mean, thank you very much,” I said.

  Mommy, Seth, and Andrew gathered around as I tore open the wrapping paper. Inside was a book, The Basics of Coin Collecting. Underneath was a clear plastic holder with coins inside. One of the coins was the penny from 1861. It had been cleaned, so it looked new and shiny.

  “But, Henry,” I protested. “This is your coin.”

  “Not anymore,” he said. “I think it should belong to you.”

  I did not know what to say. (That is very unusual for me.) Now I had the beginning of a coin collection. And I had a book that told me all about coins. But I had even more than that. I had a brand-new hobby.

  Mommy and Seth asked Henry to stay for dinner, but he said he had to leave.

  “Why don’t you come another time?” said Mommy. “We would certainly love to have you.”

  “I would be honored,” said Henry.

  “How about this Saturday?” said Mommy.

  “That would be perfect,” I chimed in. “That is the night of Nancy’s ballet recital. After dinner, we could all go see her dance.”

  “That sounds lovely,” said Henry. “An evening of good food and culture.”

  “Saturday it is,” said Mommy.

  Henry was about to leave when I remembered something important.

  “Before you go,” I said, “come with me.”

  Henry followed me into the dining room.

  “Knock on the paneling,” I said. “Right here.”

  Henry rapped on the wood. Out fell the knot. He peered into the hole and pulled out the treasure map. (I had put it back there for safekeeping.) Henry unrolled it and looked at it long and hard, shaking his head.

  “You put a lot of thought into burying the coins,” I said.

  “Well,” he replied, “my father always told me, ‘A penny saved is a penny earned.’ ” Henry grinned. “And in this case,” he added, “one penny earned quite a bundle, didn’t it?”

  Nancy’s Recital

  On Saturday night, Mommy, Seth, Andrew and I made a great dinner. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a big green salad. Yum. The house smelled warm and chickeny. I danced around the kitchen while the chicken popped and sizzled in the oven.

  Ding dong!

  “Henry’s here!” I cried. I ran to the door to let him in.

  “My,” he said, “don’t you look beautiful.”

  I spun around to show off my dress. It had a lace collar and a pink sash.

  “I have to look beautiful,” I said. “We are going to Nancy’s recital.”

  Seth gave Henry the grand tour of the house. I followed along to help.

  “Dinner!” called Mommy.

  At the table, it was hard to talk quietly. So much was happening. I was very excited.

  “Do not talk with your mouth full,” Mommy reminded me.

  “Use your indoor voice,” said Seth.

  Soon it was time to drive to the recital. Henry followed us in his car. Seth bought the tickets at the door. The woman at the cash box gave him some coins as change. I asked Seth if I could see them.

  “From now on,” I announced, “I will check everyone’s coins before they put them in their pockets. Maybe some of the coins are old. Maybe I will need them for my collection.”

  “Good thinking,” said Henry.

  Nancy did very well in her recital. I was not sure what her ballet steps were supposed to look like exactly, but they looked very graceful to me. At the end of the dance, she stepped forward with the others to curtsy. She did it just the way I had shown her.

  “Yea, Nancy!” I yelled. I clapped so hard my hands hurt.

  Up onstage, Nancy ducked her head. She was probably blushing, but I did not care. I was very proud of the work she had done.

  After the performance, Nancy came out the stage door and into the audience. I introduced her to Henry.

  “I have been very busy while you have been rehearsing,” I told Nancy. “I became a detective and found a buried treasure. Henry buried it more than sixty years ago,” I said.

  “Really?” said Nancy. Her eyes grew round and wide.

  Henry complimented Nancy. He told her that she had done a beautiful job onstage. Then he had to leave. He had a long drive back to his house.

  We walked Henry to the parking lot. Nancy and I waved good-bye. Henry was my new friend, and Nancy was my old friend, tried and true.

  “You were a great ballerina,” I told Nancy. “But I am happy that your recital is over. Now you will be able to play with me again.”

  “I am happy, too,” said Nancy. “Maybe we could play detective.”

  “We could,” I said. “But I have a new hobby now. I am a coin collector.”

  “Really?” said Nancy.

  “Yes,” I said. “And I have a very valuable collection.”

  Nancy looked surprised.

  “Come on!” I said.

  I took her hand and we ran back inside the auditorium. I had so much to tell her.

  About the Author

  ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.

  Copyright © 1997 by Ann M. Martin

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

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  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First edition, 1997

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-06020-1

 

 

 


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