Greenglass House Read Online Free PDF Page B

supposed to be pointing north.
    He turned the page so that the arrow pointed up, but that didn’t make the waterway any more familiar. He turned it again and again, trying to find the orientation that would transform it into something recognizable: the Skidwrack River, or the Magothy Bay it emptied into, or one of the Skidwrack’s inland tributaries. But no matter which way he held the map, it didn’t look like any river or bay Milo knew of.
    Then, outside in the pavilion, he heard a voice muttering curses. He put his eye to the crack between the door and its frame. A person wrapped in a heavy coat crossed Milo’s view, head hunched low into the collar. A short, sharp breeze kicked up, swirling snow around the figure. It wasn’t his mother or father, but between the snow and the twinkling lights, he couldn’t quite work out which of the guests it was.
    The person strode out of view and back in again, making a circuit of the pavilion, then hopped down onto the tracks inside it. Milo heard footsteps crunching over the stones between the steel rails.
    He or she had to be looking for the leather wallet Milo had just found. The logical thing to do would be to step out and announce that he’d found it. It was, after all, the property of one of the guests, and at some point, he was going to have to give it back. Still, when the dark shadow swung itself back up off the tracks, something made Milo edge deeper into the shed and tuck himself as far behind the winch as he could.
    He held his breath and waited. Long minutes passed without any sound from outside. At last, Milo tiptoed back over to the door and put his eye up to the crack again. The unknown person was gone.
    As quietly as he could, he refolded the map and tucked it into the leather wallet. He slipped it into his other back pocket, making certain it was hidden by his coat. Then, when he was sure, absolutely sure, that he was alone in the pavilion again, he crept out of the shed. Whoever it had been, he or she had left footprints, but already the swirling snow was busy erasing them.
    Inside, the inn was basically just as he’d left it: his mom was at the dining room table; in the living room, Georgie Moselle was on the couch with her cigar box and Clem Candler sat on the rag rug, stretching her taped-up legs.
    Mrs. Pine looked up from her book. “Milo, where’d you go?”
    Milo yanked off his hat and looked around as he unwound his scarf, sure he must be missing someone. “Someone went outside after me. Who was it?”
    Now Georgie and Clem looked up. “Nobody else came through this room,” Georgie said. “We didn’t see anybody.” She looked at Clem. “Right? Or was I just not paying attention?”
    â€œI didn’t notice anyone leave. Not this way, anyhow.” The redheaded girl stood and stretched. “Well, that’s it for me, folks. See you in the morning.” Then, silently, she ran up the stairs two at a time.
    â€œWhat about Dad?” Milo asked, even though he was certain that whoever he’d seen, it hadn’t been his father. “He was outside, right?”
    â€œHe came in right after you went out. He’s upstairs now.” Mrs. Pine frowned. “What’s wrong?”
    Milo opened his mouth, then shut it again. “Nothing,” he said at last, taking off his coat and boots and sliding onto the bench across from his mother. “Somebody was walking outside, that’s all. Thought they must’ve come in this way.”
    â€œGood grief.” Milo’s mother slid off the bench and headed toward the foyer to put on her own cold-weather gear. “Guess I’d better make sure nobody’s gonna freeze out there.”
    â€œNobody’s gonna freeze,” Milo protested. “It’s not like you can miss the house.” But the door was already swinging shut behind Mrs. Pine, leaving Milo alone with Georgie Moselle.
    For a few