his bike. “Want me to hold the box while you lock your bike?”
“Now he offers.” Amos handed him the box. “I’ll be happy to get rid of this thing. I didn’t know doing the right thing was so much work.”
“You’ll be glad you did it when this is allover.” Dunc held the door to Stephenson’s open for him.
The inside of Stephenson’s looked more like an expensive hotel than a sporting goods store. The carpet was plush, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
A saleslady dressed like she was attending the opera headed for them. She looked Amos over for a few seconds. “May I help you, young man?”
Amos dropped the box on the counter. “Yeah. You can give me a refund for all the stuff in this box.”
The woman opened the box like she expected a snake to jump out. “Do you have a receipt for this merchandise?”
Amos shook his head. “No. But everything has the name of the store right on it, so I know it came from here.”
“Please wait here while I get the manager.” The woman turned abruptly and walked to the back of the store. The boys could see her talking to a tall, thin man in a black suit.
“I hope this doesn’t take too long.” Dunc sat down on a long couch. “I need to put thefinishing touches on my pretend marriage budget. It’s due tomorrow.”
Amos joined him on the couch. “Mrs. Wormwood said she had a bonus for the couple that did the best job. I wonder what it is?”
“I don’t care, as long as I get Bertha Abercromby out of my life forever.”
The man and woman walked back to the sales counter together. The man twisted his handlebar moustache. “Would you gentlemen be so kind as to tell me where you obtained this merchandise?”
Dunc stood up. “It was a gift. Is there a problem?”
“That depends. You see, this merchandise did in fact come from this store. But these things just happen to be the exact same items that were stolen from us yesterday.”
“Stolen?” Amos jumped off the couch.
“I’m afraid so.” The man moved around the counter. “Perhaps you could help us find the thief. Who gave these things to you?”
“There has to be some other explanation. Melissa’s not a thief.” Amos folded his arms and sat on Dunc’s bed.
Dunc looked up from the book he was reading. “What other explanation could there be? The saleslady said she remembered a girl with long blond hair in the store yesterday. She said the girl was sweet but left without buying anything.”
“So? There must be hundreds of sweet girls in this town with long blond hair. It could have been any one of them.”
Dunc leaned back in his chair. “It’s a good thing that salesman believed your story about finding that Rollerblade stuffwrapped in a box by your front door. Otherwise, Melissa would be in jail by now.”
Amos stuck his lip out. “She didn’t do it!”
A thoughtful look came over Dunc. “Amos, did you happen to notice Melissa’s fingertips when you were at her house earlier?”
Amos cocked his head. “Her fingertips?”
“Yeah. They weren’t black or anything, were they?”
“Now that you mention it, I did notice some black smudges on them. I thought maybe she’d been working in the garden or something.” Amos sat up. “Wait a minute. You don’t think Melissa is the school thief, too, do you?”
“I wonder …” Dunc thumbed through his book on psychiatric abnormalities. He flipped through the pages and stopped at the section on head injuries. “Hmmm. That’s interesting.”
“Are you going to let me in on it?”
“It says here that people who suffer head injuries often do things completely opposite from what they normally would do.”
“Like ripping off expensive stores and taking things out of people’s lockers?”
Dunc nodded.
Amos sank down on the bed. “What are we going to do? We can’t let her go to jail.”
“The book says there are only two ways to help her. The safest is to let it wear off gradually.”
“What’s the second