Mystery of the Secret Message Read Online Free PDF Page A

branches into the trunk of their car.
    “Ouch!” Henry cried. “The points on this holly are going right through my gloves.”
    “Be careful,” Grandfather warned. “Let’s load the wreaths next.”
    The Aldens stacked pine wreaths on the backseat. A bushel of pine cones was placed on the floor.
    “The town square is going to look so pretty,” Jessie said as they all squeezed into the car.
    They drove from the nursery to town. Today Grandfather had special permission to drive up the lane into the square. Once they were in the square, everyone hopped out of the car.
    “Let’s pile the greens next to the statue,” Grandfather directed, unlocking the trunk. “The rest of my decorating committee should be here soon.”
    Benny was staring at the statue. His mouth fell open. “Look!” he cried.
    Jessie gasped.
    “Oh, no!” Violet exclaimed.
    The Minuteman had been painted a bright, cheery red. Red paint coated the statue, from his bronze toes to the top of his musket.
    “Oh, my,” Grandfather remarked.
    Dawn Wellington rushed into the square. “Mr. Alden,” she said breathlessly. “I tried to call you, but your housekeeper said you were out. Isn’t it awful?”
    “A terrible prank,” Grandfather agreed.
    Just then, Mrs. Turner came out of the drugstore. “Mr. Alden! When I got to work this morning, that’s what I saw!”
    Violet noticed a red-smeared can in one of the trash cans.
    “Here are the paint cans,” she said.
    Henry turned to the waitress. “We asked Mr. Kirby if he could store the cans for us until today. He told us to leave them outside and he would put them away.”
    “I left early yesterday,” said Mrs. Turner. “I remember seeing your paint things by the door.”
    “That’s where we left them.” Henry touched one of the statue’s red-painted boots. “It’s still sticky. It wasn’t painted that long ago.”
    “Probably early this morning,” Grandfather said. “Good thing it’s water-based paint. Since it’s not dry yet, it should wash off.”
    “I’ll get some soap and water,” Dawn offered, and dashed across the square to her studio. She returned with two buckets filled with hot, soapy water and several scrub brushes.
    The Aldens got right to work. With Dawn and Grandfather’s help, the statue soon went from tomato red to its normal bronze color.
    “Did you see anyone this morning?” Henry asked Dawn when they were finished. “Anybody who looked suspicious?”
    She shook her blond ponytail. “No one. I came in early because I wanted to get started on the souvenir booklet. I planned to take shots of the square in the morning light. What a shock to see this bright red statue!”
    “Well, it’s over and done with,” Grand-father said. “Let’s get on with the festival preparations.”
    But before anyone could move, Sylvia Pepper flew out from her shop. “Do you see that?” she demanded, pointing to her doorway with its address numbers.
    Benny realized immediately what was wrong. “The numbers are backward,” he said. “It should be two-one-one, not one-one-two.”
    “Exactly!” Sylvia screeched. “When I got to work this morning, someone had switched the address numbers. Everyone’s addresses are wrong!”
    Sure enough, the brass numbers over every shop door were out of order. Dawn’s shop, number 209, was now 902. All around the square, the address numbers were mixed up.
    “I don’t understand,” said Dawn. “I thought Greenfield was a nice, quiet town. That’s why I moved here.”
    “It is a nice place,” Violet said, defending her town. “These things have never happened before.”
    “Well, it doesn’t seem very nice now,” said Sylvia. “When my lease is up, I might look for another location for Sylvia’s Blooms.”
    James Alden put out a calming hand. “Let’s not panic,” he said. “This is just a practical joke.”
    Dawn looked uneasy. “But the person did all this without being seen. It’s like a phantom.”
    “The phantom of