Escape to the World's Fair Read Online Free PDF Page A

“IT’S
MOSES
McGEE,” he shouted. Or at least that’s what it sounded like to Frances. “MOSES McGEE AT THE TEMPLE OF PROMISES!”
    â€œThe Temple of . . . THE TEMPLE OF PROMISES?”
What kind of place is that?
    The young man nodded. “YEP!”
    Frances had no idea what
that
meant either. “Moses McGee at the Temple of Promises.” It sounded odd, but it was easy enough to remember.
    Zogby put the motorcar in gear. “SO LONG,” he called. “THANK YOU AND GOOD LUCK!” A cloud of fine dust rose as the young man steered the car into a quick half circle and then drove off in the same direction he’d come in. He turned a corner and was gone.
    Jack turned to Frances. “I could’ve sworn he said the fellow’s name was
Mice
McGee,” he said. “Not Moses.”
    Eli shrugged. “Nah, it sounded like ‘Moses’ to me,” he said. “Just like my pop’s name.”
    Frances hadn’t been certain about the name either, but Eli sounded sure enough. Yet something still didn’t seem right about all this. “What about the ‘Temple of Promises’?” she asked. “If you ask me, that sounded even weirder.”
    Alexander spoke up. “But didn’t you hear him talking about all the bizarre things at the Fair? Ostrich farms, golden chariots . . .”
    â€œI suppose you’re right,” Frances said. Nonetheless, she couldn’t stop thinking that
everything
was bizarre right now, not just the Fair. After all, one moment they’d been walking alongside some railroad tracks, and now here they were on their way to St. Louis with at least twenty dollars in their pockets.
    Jack and Eli and Alexander started to head down the street Zogby had pointed out, but it wasn’t until Harold tugged on her sleeve that Frances realized she hadn’t moved.
    â€œAren’t you coming, Frances?” he asked.
    â€œYes, but . . .” She started walking. “Doesn’t anyone else think that everything that just happened was . . . was really
strange
?”
    Jack looked at her. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI mean this fellow was simply sitting there in his fancy motorcar in the middle of nowhere! Not even on the road! What was he doing, anyway? And what was he planning on doing before we showed up?”
    â€œAre you saying you think he was up to no good or something?” Eli asked.
    â€œI don’t know!” Frances sighed. “It seems a little fishy, that’s all. And we’re expected to take him at his word and get on a train to—”
    â€œA train!” Harold interrupted, his face crumpling up with worry. “I thought we weren’t going to get on another train, Frannie!”
    Frances turned to Jack and Eli. “Well, we
weren’t,
until we met this Zogby character and all agreed to this half-baked plan. And Harold’s right. When we left the Careys’ we decided it was too risky to take a train. Who knows—Miss DeHaven might have folks on all the trains looking for us by now.”
    She got a sick feeling whenever she thought about the cruel woman from the Society for Children’s Aid and Relief. Miss Lillian DeHaven had been the chaperone on the orphan train she and Harold and Jack had taken. But she was also the sister of Mrs. Pratcherd, and she’d seen to it that the orphan train children were sent to the Pratcherd Ranch to work long days in the fields.
    â€œIsn’t that Miss DeHaven the one who came out to Reverend Carey’s farm to check on you?” Eli asked.
    â€œThat was her, all right,” Jack said. “She
said
she was making sure we were all right. But she had other plans for us. . . .”
    â€œWe’d caught her talking about them,” Frances continued. She remembered the sound of Miss DeHaven’s beautiful but cold voice that day in the Kansas City