Ancient Spirits (Daisy Gumm Majesty Books) Read Online Free PDF Page B

The Chessmen of Mars has just come out, and I have that here behind the desk.” She handed me the book. It had a rip-snorting cover, and I was sure Pa would love it.
    “Thank you. You’re very nice to do this for us.”
    “It’s my pleasure, Daisy. I just love it when an entire family enjoys reading.”
    “We sure do,” I said, wishing the conversation was over.
    It wasn’t. “And here. I’ve got something for you, too. Captain Blood.” She glanced around furtively. “It’s a very romantic adventure. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.”
    “Thank you. I probably will. I like romantic adventure stories. Um . . . do you have any mysteries.”
    This time her smile seemed perkier. “Oh, my, yes. I’ve saved you The Red House Mystery, by A.A. Milne—”
    “I’ve never heard of him.”
    “I believe this is his first book. He’s written articles for Punch, which is a British magazine, and I believe he writes plays, too.” She giggled softly. “Anyhow, as the title says, this book is a mystery story, and I enjoyed it very much. And I also saved you The Man Who Knew too Much and The Adventures of Sally.”
    G.K. Chesterton and P.G. Wodehouse. Add those writers to A.A. Milne, and one would think a person had to use only his initials in order to get a book published those days. “Thank you very much,” I said again. “I truly appreciate your help.” I hesitated for a second or two and then added, “Especially now.”
    Miss Petrie’s eyes filled with tears, and I felt like a brute. But I’d meant my words sincerely.
    I was beginning to feel as though I couldn’t do anything right.
     
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
    The feeling didn’t last. The moment I pulled up to the huge wrought-iron gate in front of the Pinkerton estate, Jackson, Mrs. Pinkerton’s gate keeper, said, “Good to see you again, Miss Daisy. The missus has been feeling right poorly of late.”
    Jackson hadn’t come to Billy’s funeral, although I’d have been glad to have him there. But he was a colored gentleman, and I suppose he’d have felt out of place amongst all the white folk in attendance. He did send me a note, though, and I cherished it along with all the other cards and notes I’d received from friends and family.
    As the huge gate creaked open, aided, I’m sure, by Jackson having pushed a button from inside his gatehouse, I said, “I’m sorry to hear it, Jackson. She told me Stacy’s started acting up again.”
    He shook his head. “That girl needs a switch, is what she needs.”
    “I’m afraid it’s too late for that now. She needed a switch when she was five or six. Now I think she needs a bullet.”
    Good Lord! I don’t think I’d ever uttered so ruthless a comment aloud—although I’d thought that and worse more than once.
    But good old Jackson only grinned, his white teeth a sparkling contrast to his dark face. “You got that right, Miss Daisy.”
    The gate was open, and I drove on through, waving back at Jackson and feeling minimally better that at least somebody agreed with me about the Stacy Kincaid situation. Well . . . Billy had, too, but he was dead.
    There went my mood, crashing through the floorboards of our Chevrolet. I cursed myself for thinking about Billy just then.
    A surprise awaited me when I parked the car in the circular drive in front of the Pinkertons’ massive front porch. Featherstone, who had been Mrs. Pinkerton’s butler for as long as I’d known her, had the door open and was waiting for me even before I climbed the porch steps. This boded ill, in my opinion. Featherstone, the most correct and erect butler I’d ever seen, and who had appeared to me to be the epitome of the butlerine arts for decades, never did anything that might be considered unusual. The fact that he’d anticipated my arrival and had actually opened the door before I’d rung the bell worried me.
    “Good heavens, Featherstone, has the sky fallen?” I asked. For some reason, I always joked with