“Reporters from the Sentinel,” he announced. “They want to take pictures.”
“Oh, good!” Princess jumped up. “I can tell them everything that happened, if you want me to.”
“Come back later,” the policeman barked, motioning the reporters toward the door. “We’re busy now.”
When at last he said they could all go home, Roddy could hardly believe it. He and Princess followed his mom and Mr. Glaubitz outside, and Jacob came, too.
“Why did you call the police?” Roddy whispered. “How did you know we were in the haunted house?”
“I didn’t call them,” Jacob whispered back. “Uncle Ring did. I heard him go downstairs, so I went after him to see what was up. He was calling nine-one-one.”
“But why?” Roddy repeated. “Why did he call?”
“It was Mrs. Mortimer,” Jacob explained. “He said someone was throwing pebbles at his window, and when he looked down, there she was. He said she was jumping up and down, she was so upset, and she kept pointing at the haunted house. He knew something bad must be happening. So he called.”
That was weird, Roddy decided, but no more weird than everything else that had happened that night.
“I thought I saw the dead man in the living room,” he said. Even now the memory made him feel cold. “Only he wasn’t dead. The policeman thinks he and the other one were taking turns staying there. To guard the—the loot.”
Jacob shook his head. “You know what, man? You could have been shot. Or stabbed. Or something.… Is that girl really going home tomorrow? Are you sure?”
Roddy yawned. “Her stepmom’s coming for her.”
“Well, if she doesn’t go, call me,” Jacob said, “so I can stay in the house all day. I never want to see her again. Not ever! Next time Mrs. Mortimer might not be around when we need her.”
14. Day Six
“I want to talk to you, Jane,” Roddy’s mom said, when Princess finally came into the kitchen the next morning. “Roddy and I have already discussed what happened. He knows how I feel. I’d like you to know, too.”
“I’m really sorry if we worried you,” Princess said quickly. She slid into a chair and reached for a piece of toast. “Why did you call me Jane?”
“Because this is a serious talk, and that’s your real name. It’s a perfectly nice name, you know. Someday you may write a book or climb a mountain or discover a cure for a terrible disease, and then everyone will know Jane Thornberry.”
Roddy looked at her in surprise. Did she really think Princess might do stuff like that?
“I thought you were going to yell at me,” Princess said. “Did you yell at Roddy? It wasn’t his fault as much as mine. It was my idea to catch the burglars.”
“I didn’t yell,” Roddy’s mom said. “And I have a pretty good idea of how this all happened. What I want to say is, you’re never going to do any of those special things when you grow up, Jane, if you don’t start using your brain now.”
Princess’s face turned red. “I do use my brain,” she protested. “All the time.”
“You sneaked out of a home where you were a trusted guest,” Roddy’s mom said. “You broke into someone else’s house. You put yourself in the worst kind of danger from those awful men.”
“But they were stealing tons of stuff from the Army of the United States of America,” Princess argued. “Aren’t you glad we caught them? I bet your husband—”
“That’s all I wanted to say,” Roddy’s mom said. “Now, you’d better eat your breakfast. I have a feeling this is going to be a full day.”
The doorbell rang, and Roddy ran to answer it, glad of the chance to get away. The reporters from the Sentinel waited on the porch. Behind them were other people with notebooks and cameras.
“Hi, kid, we’re back,” a freckled man said with a grin. “We’re here to interview a couple of young heroes.”
Roddy heard his mother sigh behind him. “We were expecting you,” she said. “You might as well come in and get it over with.”
She led the way into the living room, and they all trooped after her. Princess was already there, sitting in the big armchair, her hands folded on her knees. Roddy noticed for the first time that she was dressed up—crisp yellow shorts, a yellow and white top. Her shiny hair matched the shorts. Oh, yeah, he thought. Dear. Sweet.
A camera flashed, then another one. “Okay, Sunbeam,” said the man with the freckles. “Why don’t you tell us all about it?”
“You should have heard her,” Roddy told Jacob later. “Boy, did she tell them!” They were sitting on the Glaubitzes’ front porch licking frozen Milky Way bars.
“I’ll bet,” Jacob said. “Did she tell them you only went along to try to keep her out of trouble?”
“She said I was a good helper.”
“Huh!” Jacob made a face.
“She said another little boy helped her, too,” Roddy added slyly. “Your name is going to be in the paper.”
“Little boy!” Jacob groaned. “My folks don’t even know I had anything to do with this. Uncle Ring’s going to chew my ear off when he finds out.” He took a big bite of his Milky Way. “Has she gone yet? I hope.”
“Not yet,” Roddy replied. “My mom helped pack her stuff, and now they’re making more chocolate chip cookies. Princess wants fresh ones for her dad.”
They sat quietly for a while. Roddy felt trickles of sweat run down between his shoulders. This week had been like one long storm, he thought. Now it was over.
“Hey, take a look at that!” Jacob pointed at a sleek blue convertible that had come over the top of the hill. A pretty woman with long blonde hair was driving. They watched the car roll down the street and glide to a stop in front of Roddy’s house.
“Gotta go,” Roddy said. “I’m supposed to be there to say good-bye. See you later.”
“Right,” Jacob said. “Wouldn’t you know she’d go home in a convertible?”
When Roddy went into his house, Princess was already describing their adventures to her stepmother. She was doing the tiptoe thing again—whirling around as she talked.
“My picture’s going to be in the paper, and I’ll be on TV news tonight! Isn’t that great?”
Linda rolled her eyes. “Well, you certainly were a fun guest, weren’t you?” she said with a sideways grin at Roddy’s mom. “Your father is going to be shocked.”
Princess stopped in the middle of a twirl. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “He’s going to be happy—he likes it when I do things. When will he be home—tomorrow?”
Linda’s grin faded. “You can call him tomorrow if you want to,” she said. “He’s still in Switzerland.”
“But I want to tell him here,” Princess whined. “Not on the phone. Here!”
“Well, you can’t,” Linda told her. “Not for a while. Something has come up.” She took a deep breath. “He’ll be home for Thanksgiving, for sure. After you go back to boarding school, I’m going to fly to Switzerland to meet him for some skiing. I can take the newspaper story with me, if you want me to. And maybe we can tape the television news for him tonight.”
Princess sat down hard. Her eyes glittered, and Roddy wondered if she was going to cry. Couldn’t be, he decided. Princess would never cry.
“All right, we’d better get going,” Linda continued briskly. She thanked Roddy’s mom for her help, and then they all walked out to the car. Roddy said good-bye, and Princess wiggled her fingers at him. She hugged his mom before she slumped into the passenger seat.
“I’m very glad we had a chance to meet, Princess,” Roddy’s mom said. “I mean that. You are a remarkable person.”
“I know,” Princess said in a small voice. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”
And then they were gone.
When the car turned the corner at the foot of the hill, Roddy’s mom threw her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Do you know how very sad that was, Roddy?” she asked. “Do you understand?”
“I guess,” R
oddy said. But he wasn’t sure.
“I can see now that this whole dangerous business was supposed to be a huge surprise for her father,” she said. “To impress him—like the chocolate chip cookies, only much bigger.”
Roddy looked up the hill. Jacob was giving a thumbs-up as the convertible disappeared.
“It’s not so sad,” he argued. “She can still surprise her dad, can’t she? Just not right away.”
His mom nodded. “Not right away,” she repeated. “I don’t think he’s in any great hurry to come home, do you? That’s the sad part.”
15. Day Six
(continued)
After lunch Roddy went to his room to put things back in the dresser drawer where they belonged—his flashlight and his two best video games, the jeans with the holes in the knees that he liked better than the new pair, and the Good Citizen medal he’d won the last day at his old school. When he finished, the room looked the way it was supposed to again, only neater.
He was poking around in the closet to make sure Princess hadn’t left any girl stuff behind, when he heard the doorbell ring. Then, after a moment, he heard his mom say “Oh!” That was all, just a funny little “Oh!” For some reason Roddy didn’t understand, it sent a shiver down his spine.
He ran to the top of the stairs. The front door was open and his mom was standing there with her back to him, staring down at something he couldn’t see. When she turned around, he saw that she was crying and laughing at the same time.
“Not one letter, Roddy,” she said in a shaky voice. “Three of them! The mail carrier was so excited he made a special trip to bring them first. Come on down—we’ll read them together!”
Roddy threw one leg over the banister and slid to the bottom. His mom had told him not to do that because he might fall off or get slivers you-know-where, but this time she was too excited to notice. She was already sitting on the couch ripping open one of the envelopes.
She had left the front door open. As Roddy leaned out to pull the screen shut, he saw someone passing Jacob’s house. It was a tall man, walking fast. He might have been wearing a uniform—it was hard to tell in the glare of the sun. Roddy watched until he disappeared over the top of the hill.
“Come on, Roddy!” His mom was laughing out loud. “You have to hear this!”
Roddy closed the door. He wondered if he’d just seen Uncle Ring’s tall fella in a uniform. It could be, or maybe it was the mail carrier hurrying to make up for lost time. He guessed he’d never know, but either way, they had the letters.
16. Day Seven
The first letter was Roddy’s favorite. His mom let him take part of it to read to Jacob, as long as he promised to bring it right back.
He found Jacob in the backyard weeding peas and onions. Uncle Ring was asleep on the picnic table.
“Hey, we got letters,” Roddy said, trying to sound calm. “Three of ’em.”
Jacob handed Roddy a fat pea pod and picked one for himself. “I know.” He grinned. “My mom’s been smiling and singing hymns ever since your mother called.”
“I brought one along in case you’d like to hear it,” Roddy said.
Jacob looked surprised. “Okay,” he said. He wiped his sweaty face with his sleeve and rocked back on his heels to listen.
“‘Sorry about the long time between letters,’” Roddy read. “‘I’ve been on special assignment and there was no way to get in touch. But I thought about you all the time and tried real hard to imagine what you might be doing.’”
“There now! Didn’t I tell you?” Uncle Ring said, not asleep after all. “Just like I said.”
Roddy turned the page. “Listen to this,” he said. “This is the best part.” He read louder, so that Uncle Ring would hear every word:
“‘We found a dog, a scrawny little puppy, and we brought her back with us to the place where we’re staying. I never realized before how much a dog can help when you’re feeling down, which I was. If I can’t bring Princess with me when I come home, I’ll find somebody here to take good care of her. Whatever happens, we’re going to have a dog of our own some day. That’s a promise.’”
Uncle Ring chuckled.
Jacob fell back on the grass. “Princess!” he exclaimed. “Does it really say that he calls his dog Princess?”
Roddy nodded. “That’s what it says.”
“Maybe you could change her name to something else,” Jacob said. “I bet your dad wouldn’t care.”
Roddy had thought about that in bed the night before and had made up his mind.
“Princess is okay with me,” he said. “But we might as well take that old doghouse back where we found it, right? If we have a dog called Princess, you know she’s going to want to sleep in my bed.”
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2006 by Betty Ren Wright
Illustrations copyright © 2006 by Jacqueline Rogers
Cover design by Connie Gabbert
ISBN: 978-1-5040-1329-1
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BETTY REN WRIGHT
FROM HOLIDAY HOUSE
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In Holiday House: The First Sixty-Five Years (2000), Russell Freedman and Barbara Elleman describe the early days of the publishing house, which was founded in New York City:
In 1935, a new firm called Holiday House set up three desks in the corner of a printing plant and prepared to publish its first list of books. “The event was unique in at least one respect,” Publishers Weekly would say. “The new company was the first American publishing house ever founded with the purpose of publishing nothing but children’s books.”
The first of its kind, then—a specialized publisher with a unique program and a diminutive catalog, small enough to fit in a child’s palm. The catalog announced five books, three nursery rhyme broadsides, and the publisher’s intentions: “… Its editorial policy embraces only such books as are worthy of inclusion in a child’s permanent library.”
And so began our history. Holiday House “has changed over the years, sometimes by design and sometimes not. And it will continue to evolve and adapt. Yet in many ways it remains the same old place: relatively small, very independent, and completely devoted to its authors and illustrators.”
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