Mystery of the Secret Message Read Online Free PDF

Greenfield square,” Henry said. It was strange that no one saw the vandal.
    “The culprit is probably miles away,” said Grandfather.
    Benny wasn’t so sure. But there was a way to find out.
    Red paint was hard to clean off. At home last night, he had to scrub a long time to remove the red paint from under his fingernails. The person who painted the statue must have red fingernails, too.
    “Do you want us to look for whoever did it?” he asked his grandfather.
    “Thanks, Benny. But I think we should work on the festival. I’ll fix the address numbers right now.”
    “We’ll unload the decorations,” Henry offered.
    The Aldens walked over to the car. Grandfather fetched a small toolbox and went back to Sylvia’s shop. The children gathered armloads of greenery. They heaped the decorations at the base of Josiah Wade.
    “Something strange is going on,” Jessie remarked as she straightened an evergreen garland. “Who would paint the statue?”
    “Or switch the address numbers?” Henry wondered. “Why mess up the square when the festival is just days away?”
    Benny carefully placed holly branches on the brick pavement. “Maybe somebody doesn’t want the festival.”
    “Who wouldn’t want a fun celebration?” asked Violet. “And for such a good cause, too.”
    “I guess everyone doesn’t feel the way we do about our town,” Henry said, glancing at Cooke’s Drugstore. “I’d like to ask Mr. Kirby what he did with our paint cans.”
    When the last wreath was stacked neatly beside the statue, Grandfather came over.
    “Since we’ve been working extra hard today, let’s have lunch in the drugstore,” he suggested.
    “I sure could use a piece of Mrs. Turner’s apple pie.” Benny had eaten all the crackers Mrs. McGregor packed in his knapsack.
    Jessie laughed. “Well, you’ll have to last long enough to eat a sandwich first.”
    Inside the drugstore, Henry said to Jessie, “Could you order me a tuna sandwich? I want to talk to Mr. Kirby.”
    “I’m coming, too,” Violet said.
    Mr. Kirby didn’t look happy to see them. “What can I do for you?” he asked Henry.
    “Yesterday we left some paint supplies,” Henry said. “We asked you to keep them for us overnight. You said to leave them outside and you would bring them in.”
    “Right,” Mr. Kirby said. “When I locked up last night, I didn’t see any paint cans. I thought you had taken them home after all.”
    Returning to their stools, Henry whispered to Violet, “Somebody took the paint cans! Then that person came back after everyone was gone and painted the statue.”
    “But who?” asked Violet.
    After apple pie with cinnamon sauce, Mrs. Turner’s new creation, the Aldens returned to the square.
    “Where are the people who are supposed to help decorate?” Jessie asked Grandfather. She flipped through her festival notebook. “Dawn Wellington, Rick Bass, Sylvia Pepper, Mr. Ames the hardware store owner, and Ms. Reit from the jewelry store are on the committee.”
    Grandfather checked his watch. “They were supposed to meet here at two-thirty. Maybe they forgot. I have a meeting, but first I’ll pop into the shops and remind everyone.”
    “We’ll do that, Grandfather,” Violet said. She was afraid her grandfather was working too hard on this festival.
    Henry took off his jacket and left it at the base of the statue. The chilly morning had warmed up.
    “We’ll leave our things here. We won’t be gone that long,” he said.

    Jessie glanced around the empty square. She could look through any shop window and see the statue. Her bag should be safe here for a few minutes.
    The children walked around, reminding the members of the decorating committee. Only Rick Bass wasn’t available. He wasn’t in the museum in the basement of the town hall. No one had seen him all day.
    When they were on their way back to the statue, Jessie noticed something odd. Her tote bag was lying in a different spot from where she had left it. She ran