the boys, picked up the car keys, and grabbed Alfie's camera.
"Hey! that's mine," Alfie exclaimed. "Give it back."
Keith Raynor caught up with Noah. "Give him back his camera, Noah," he said quietly. "I'll take care of this."
"You'd better!" Noah scowled as he returned the camera to Alfie.
Keith Raynor looked from Leonard to Alfie. "I asked you boys in a nice way to go. Now I'll have to do something drastic. I'll have to speak to your parents."
Alfie and Leonard looked at each other, and then up at Keith Raynor.
"Our
parent
, you mean," Leonard said. "We've only got one."
Alfie said nothing. He knew that in a case like this, one parent was drastic enough.
Mrs. Booth was just opening the screen door as Alfie, Leonard, Watson, and Keith Raynor came up the porch steps.
"Mrs. Booth?" Keith asked.
"Yes?" Marsha Booth glanced quickly at Alfie and Leonard. They were staring down at their sneakers. Even Watson had a guilty look. She looked back at the stranger.
"I'm Keith Raynor. I live in the old lighthouse on the beach."
The boys' mother hesitated. "Won't you come in?" she asked.
"Thank you," Keith replied. "But I'm afraid this isn't a social call. You see, I found your boys filming at the lighthouse—or planning to, that is. It isn't safe around there. There've been rock slides recently."
"Oh," Marsha Booth looked relieved. "Then all you have to do is to tell Alfie to keep away and he'll keep away."
Keith Raynor shook his head. "I tried that. It didn't work. I wouldn't want to suggest anything since we've just met, but maybe the boys need more supervision — if you know what I mean."
"Yes, I'm afraid I do," the boys' mother replied. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Raynor. I'll make sure they won't bother you again."
"Thank you. Good-bye, Mrs. Booth." Keith got up and started for the door.
"Mr. Raynor!" Leonard hurried after him and tugged at Keith's sleeve. He lowered his voice. "We can still light the fireworks, can't we?"
Keith hesitated. He looked at Leonard's eager face. "Oh, I guess so… before you leave."
Leonard beamed. "Good-bye, Mr. Raynor. We'll see you Labor Day."
But when Leonard went back in the house, his smile faded. A very serious-looking parent faced her two sons.
"I know I depend on you boys a lot to take care of yourselves," she began, looking from Alfie to Leonard. "Maybe too much. But you know I can't be with you all day."
Alfie and Leonard for the second time that morning looked down at their sneakers. And Watson turned his back on everybody, as though the whole scene was too much for him.
"So," Mrs. Booth continued, "since you can't seem to take care of yourselves, I'll just have to find someone to help." She picked up the local newspaper and turned to the want ads.
Alfie made a long face.
"You needn't look that way," his mother said. "You brought this on yourself. Anyway, an older playmate will be good for you."
"Playmate! You mean baby-sitter!" Alfie said.
Marsha Booth grinned. "That's what I mean," she answered cheerfully.
She looked back at the newspaper. "Hmm! Here's a possibility — Jean Wyndham, sixteen, experienced dog-walker, piano teacher, surfboard sander, mother's helper, baby-sitter. Fifty cents an hour, 203 Main Street." She circled the ad.
"She sure can do a lot of things," Leonard said.
"But nothing we can use," Alfie added quickly, at the same time giving Leonard a nudge in the ribs.
"Why not?" Marsha Booth said. "A mother's helper is just what I'm looking for. Let's go, boys."
"Wyndham," Alfie muttered. "That's the sheriff's name. This Jean person probably belongs to his family. And she's probably a jailer-type."
"Maybe she's only a distant relative," Leonard said hopefully.
But hope faded when the Booths and Watson arrived at 203 Main Street. The man mowing the small front lawn was none other than the sheriff himself. Alfie looked alarmed. "Mom, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Certainly, I'm sure," his mother answered, and proceeded
"Hey! that's mine," Alfie exclaimed. "Give it back."
Keith Raynor caught up with Noah. "Give him back his camera, Noah," he said quietly. "I'll take care of this."
"You'd better!" Noah scowled as he returned the camera to Alfie.
Keith Raynor looked from Leonard to Alfie. "I asked you boys in a nice way to go. Now I'll have to do something drastic. I'll have to speak to your parents."
Alfie and Leonard looked at each other, and then up at Keith Raynor.
"Our
parent
, you mean," Leonard said. "We've only got one."
Alfie said nothing. He knew that in a case like this, one parent was drastic enough.
Mrs. Booth was just opening the screen door as Alfie, Leonard, Watson, and Keith Raynor came up the porch steps.
"Mrs. Booth?" Keith asked.
"Yes?" Marsha Booth glanced quickly at Alfie and Leonard. They were staring down at their sneakers. Even Watson had a guilty look. She looked back at the stranger.
"I'm Keith Raynor. I live in the old lighthouse on the beach."
The boys' mother hesitated. "Won't you come in?" she asked.
"Thank you," Keith replied. "But I'm afraid this isn't a social call. You see, I found your boys filming at the lighthouse—or planning to, that is. It isn't safe around there. There've been rock slides recently."
"Oh," Marsha Booth looked relieved. "Then all you have to do is to tell Alfie to keep away and he'll keep away."
Keith Raynor shook his head. "I tried that. It didn't work. I wouldn't want to suggest anything since we've just met, but maybe the boys need more supervision — if you know what I mean."
"Yes, I'm afraid I do," the boys' mother replied. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Raynor. I'll make sure they won't bother you again."
"Thank you. Good-bye, Mrs. Booth." Keith got up and started for the door.
"Mr. Raynor!" Leonard hurried after him and tugged at Keith's sleeve. He lowered his voice. "We can still light the fireworks, can't we?"
Keith hesitated. He looked at Leonard's eager face. "Oh, I guess so… before you leave."
Leonard beamed. "Good-bye, Mr. Raynor. We'll see you Labor Day."
But when Leonard went back in the house, his smile faded. A very serious-looking parent faced her two sons.
"I know I depend on you boys a lot to take care of yourselves," she began, looking from Alfie to Leonard. "Maybe too much. But you know I can't be with you all day."
Alfie and Leonard for the second time that morning looked down at their sneakers. And Watson turned his back on everybody, as though the whole scene was too much for him.
"So," Mrs. Booth continued, "since you can't seem to take care of yourselves, I'll just have to find someone to help." She picked up the local newspaper and turned to the want ads.
Alfie made a long face.
"You needn't look that way," his mother said. "You brought this on yourself. Anyway, an older playmate will be good for you."
"Playmate! You mean baby-sitter!" Alfie said.
Marsha Booth grinned. "That's what I mean," she answered cheerfully.
She looked back at the newspaper. "Hmm! Here's a possibility — Jean Wyndham, sixteen, experienced dog-walker, piano teacher, surfboard sander, mother's helper, baby-sitter. Fifty cents an hour, 203 Main Street." She circled the ad.
"She sure can do a lot of things," Leonard said.
"But nothing we can use," Alfie added quickly, at the same time giving Leonard a nudge in the ribs.
"Why not?" Marsha Booth said. "A mother's helper is just what I'm looking for. Let's go, boys."
"Wyndham," Alfie muttered. "That's the sheriff's name. This Jean person probably belongs to his family. And she's probably a jailer-type."
"Maybe she's only a distant relative," Leonard said hopefully.
But hope faded when the Booths and Watson arrived at 203 Main Street. The man mowing the small front lawn was none other than the sheriff himself. Alfie looked alarmed. "Mom, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Certainly, I'm sure," his mother answered, and proceeded
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