The Great Trouble Read Online Free PDF Page B

jerked her head in alarm.
    “Slow down, Eel!” Florrie panted, trying to keep up and dragging Bernie behind her. “What’s put you in such a bad temper? We’re supposed to be having fun!”
    I scowled and pulled them off into a side street. It was quieter here. I let out my breath and felt the tension drain away a little. Fisheye could have pickpockets at work in busy crowds most anywhere, but we would be safe in this neighborhood.
    Florrie sent the little ones ahead. “So what’s wrong?” she wanted to know. “Has something happened at the Lion?”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Well, for one thing, it’s the middle of the day and you’re not at work,” Florrie pointed out. “And for another, you’re as bristly as the needles on one of Annie’s pincushions.”
    “Mr. John Huggins thinks I’m a thief,” I admitted.
    “Was it Hugzie who got you in trouble?”
    I nodded. “He snuck into my things, took my money, and tried to convince his uncle I’d stolen it. Now I’ve probably lost my place.”
    I stopped, not wanting to spill the whole story of my secret box. “How did you guess Hugzie had something to do with it?”
    Florrie snorted. “You’ve never tried to hide that you’re smarter than him. He’s the nephew of the owners, after all.”
    “I thought you’d be on my side.”
    “I am. I’m just saying, those of us on the bottom got to be careful.” Florrie touched me gently on the shoulder. “Have you asked Mr. Griggs to help? He must know Mr. Huggins.”
    I hesitated. “Mr. Griggs … wasn’t feeling well enough to see me.” I almost told her everything—that the tailor most likely had been struck with the blue death. But this wasn’t the time, what with Betsy and Bernie so close. Besides, maybe if I put it off, it wouldn’t be true.
    Florrie was silent a moment. Then she said, as if the idea had just come into her mind, “Eel, you told me Hugzie took your money. What money? What have you been saving money for?”
    I shrugged. “Nothing much.”
    “You know, sometimes when I ask you things, it’s like you don’t want to answer.” Florrie fixed me with her clear, honest gaze. “And when you do, it’s like you’re trying to sell me fish that’s gone off a bit and you think I can’t smell it.”
    Then she sprinted ahead to pick up Bernie, who’d fallen down again. I was left to walk alone and think about her words.
    By the time we got to Sackville Street, with its clean stone town houses all lined up in a neat row, Annie, Bernie, and Betsy were wide-eyed. “It’s so quiet. Almost like bein’ in St. Luke’s,” Betsy breathed.
    “Nice, ain’t it? This is where the swells live,” Florrie explained. To me she said, “I’ll be working in a fine house like this soon.”
    “Dr. Snow lives in Number Eighteen,” I said, pointing to a house with a large door and with four windows on all three floors. I still couldn’t quite believe that someone as important as Dr. Snow trusted me—a mudlark—to look after his animals.
    “Your doctor has this
whole
house to himself?” asked Betsy, craning her neck to see the upper floors.
    I nodded proudly. “ ’Course he does. Dr. John Snow is quite a gentleman. So be on your best conduct in his yard or there won’t be any ices on the way home.”
    I jerked my head. “Now follow me. We need to go around the back way, through the alley. Mrs. Jane Weatherburn, Dr. Snow’s housekeeper, leaves newspapers and food scraps out there for me to use.”
    “How did you meet Dr. Snow?” Florrie asked.
    “In Covent Garden. He came to the market to buy a guinea pig,” I said. “You know how busy and noisy it is there. Just as Dr. Snow was putting the guinea pig into a little box to take it home, a horse spooked behind him, toppling a cart of vegetables and making a terrible racket. Well, the guinea pig got such a fright it squirmed out of Dr. Snow’s grasp. Luckily, I happened to be standing right there to catch it.”
    They were