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this over with. Had to know if she was dead or alive. He found himself half running as they reached Main Street, and ran up the sidewalk to Oldakers’ where a small crowd had gathered. People seemed to be going in and out, so the boys went inside and through the store to the back. Therestood their father beside the police chief, a reporter, the older Mr. Oldaker, and several others.
    “What happened?” Wally skidded to a stop beside his dad.
    “Can't quite say,” the police chief told him. “Burglar alarm went off here at Oldakers', but there doesn't seem to be anything missing.”
    Wally went limp with relief. “Nobody hurt?” he asked.
    The police chief looked at him curiously. “No,” he said. “Why would there be?”
    “I think the burglar was frightened off by the alarm,” said Mr. Oldaker. “I figured nobody would break in the front door, because they'd have to break the glass. So I put the burglar alarm on the back, and when it goes off, you know it.”
    “And you're sure nothing is missing?” the police chief asked.
    “Not unless it was a book or two. We empty the cash register every night. Typewriter's still there. The adding machine … What else would a burglar want?”
    The reporter, however, was bending over the back door. He was scraping his ballpoint pen along the edge of the doorway.
    “Look here,” he said to the police chief.
    “What have you got?”
    Mr. Hatford and the police chief stooped down tosee. Wally edged closer to his father. The reporter was holding a tuft of light brown fur between his thumb and forefinger.
    When the newspaper came out the next day, there was a story on page one:
An apparent burglary was attempted and failed last night at Oldakers’ Bookstore on Main when the alarm went off as the back door was opened. No items were reported missing, but there was no explanation for a tuft of brown fur that seemed to have been caught as the door was closing….
    Mr. Hatford grinned a little when he read the story aloud at breakfast.
    “The abaguchie has stopped carrying off cats now, and is devouring books, perhaps?” he said.

Sixteen

Playing Bull
          T hings turned out even better than Caroline had dreamed. Mr. Oldaker had not caught her coming up out of his cellar because he'd already gone home; the boys had not succeeded in trapping her there for long; and somehow, in making her escape, she had accidentally started a whole new rumor about the abaguchie; the only thing it had cost her was a little tuft of fur from the hem of Beth's old jacket. Was life in Buckman wonderful or what?
    Eddie's thumb had recovered enough by the weekend that she wanted to practice her batting and pitching again, so once more the three girls made their way to the field behind the college. This time, however, they were not alone. The Hatford boys had got there first. Jake was pitching, Wally was catcher, Josh was up at bat, and Peter's job seemed to be to go after the ball wherever it went.
    “What do you want?” Jake yelled when he saw the girls. “Scram!”
    “We have as much right to be here as you do’ Beth said. “You don't own this field.”
    Just then Jake pitched, Josh swung his bat, and the ball came whizzing right over to where the girls were standing. Eddie simply put out one hand and caught it in her glove, as easily as if she were answering the phone.
    Caroline could see by the look on the boys’ faces that they were getting ready for an argument over the ball, when Eddie threw it back to Jake.
    Whoosh¡ Jake caught it, but barely. He blinked.
    Without a word he threw it to Josh again. This time Josh hit it hard and it went sailing out into center field. Peter ran and ran, and Josh could have gone around the diamond three times before the ball got back to Jake again.
    “So what do you want?” asked Wally, still staring at the girls.
    “I came over to practice’ said Eddie. “You want us to be your basemen?”
    “We don't need any girls,” Wally told