Read Online The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper by Julie Campbell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Campbell
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oven!”
“No thanks to me,” Trixie said with a grin, then turned to speak to her father. “We stopped by Town Hall after school, Dad,” she told her father.
“Oh?” Peter Belden buttered a hot roll. “Have they found the weather vane yet?” he asked.
“Not a sign of it,” Brian answered.
“I’m sure it must have been stolen,” Trixie said seriously.
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Stolen?”
Trixie nodded. “If the wind just blew Hoppy off the roof, someone would have found him by now. The wind surely wasn’t strong enough to blow him very far away from Town Hall.”
“That’s true,” her father agreed. “But why would anyone steal a weather vane, Trixie?”
“That weather vane is an antique,” Mrs. Belden pointed out. “It might be worth quite a bit of money. But I don’t think that anyone in Sleepyside would steal it. Maybe it was just broken to pieces when it fell.”
“There were no pieces found, either,” Trixie persisted. “Hoppy just vanished.”
Trixie and her brothers were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner when Mr. Belden yelled for them to come to the living room in a hurry. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Trixie followed her brothers. The radio in the living room was on, and Trixie’s father gestured for them to pay attention to what the announcer was saying.
“... and the weather vane, made in the shape of a grasshopper, has been missing all day. The weather vane was apparently blown down by the storm, but the area around Town Hall has been searched thoroughly, and no trace of it has been found.
“The weather vane is about three feet long and weighs sixty pounds. It is over two hundred years old and believed to be one of the grasshopper vanes made by Shem Drowne, a Colonial coppersmith who crafted the famous grasshopper for Faneuil Hall in Boston. Authorities consider the Sleepyside weather vane to be very valuable, and it’s feared that it has been stolen.”
“There!” Trixie gasped. “See what I mean?”
Her father hushed her.
“…a word from Sergeant Molinson of the Sleepyside Police,” the newscaster continued.
“Good evening.” Sergeant Molinson s familiar gruff voice came from the radio. “We must now assume that the antique weather vane from the top of our Town Hall has been stolen. The police department asks that all citizens of Sleepyside be on the alert. Any information concerning the possible whereabouts of the weather vane should be reported to the police at once. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Well, now it’s official,” Trixie said.
“You were right, young lady,” her father conceded. “You know, it’s funny—I must have looked at that weather vane a million times over the years, and I never gave a thought to the possibility that it might be valuable.”
“I never did either,” Mrs. Belden agreed. “Maybe it should have been on display in the museum, locked up in a case. But it’s always seemed so-so natural for it to be up there on top of Town Hall.”
Trixie slumped in a chair. “And we were going to announce our walk-a-thon on WSTH tomorrow,” she said.
“Yeah,” Brian added, “but there’s no sense in trying to raise the money for recoppering the weather vane now.”
“I hate to say this, Trixie,” Mart mumbled. “But I think Hoppy’s luck just ran out.”
Bob-Whites on the Air • 10
HONEY TELEPHONED early the next morning. “Don t take the bus this morning, Trixie,” she said excitedly. “Jim and I will come by for all of you in the station wagon.”
“Okay,” Trixie said. “What’s up?”
“I don’t have time to tell you now,” Honey said. “See you in a few minutes.”
Trixie told her brothers that Jim would be driving them to school.
“How come?” Mart inquired.
“I don’t know,” Trixie said, “but Honey was excited about something. I guess shell tell us on the way to school.”
Bobby stood with them near the back door as they waited for the station wagon. “I kinda
“No thanks to me,” Trixie said with a grin, then turned to speak to her father. “We stopped by Town Hall after school, Dad,” she told her father.
“Oh?” Peter Belden buttered a hot roll. “Have they found the weather vane yet?” he asked.
“Not a sign of it,” Brian answered.
“I’m sure it must have been stolen,” Trixie said seriously.
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Stolen?”
Trixie nodded. “If the wind just blew Hoppy off the roof, someone would have found him by now. The wind surely wasn’t strong enough to blow him very far away from Town Hall.”
“That’s true,” her father agreed. “But why would anyone steal a weather vane, Trixie?”
“That weather vane is an antique,” Mrs. Belden pointed out. “It might be worth quite a bit of money. But I don’t think that anyone in Sleepyside would steal it. Maybe it was just broken to pieces when it fell.”
“There were no pieces found, either,” Trixie persisted. “Hoppy just vanished.”
Trixie and her brothers were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner when Mr. Belden yelled for them to come to the living room in a hurry. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Trixie followed her brothers. The radio in the living room was on, and Trixie’s father gestured for them to pay attention to what the announcer was saying.
“... and the weather vane, made in the shape of a grasshopper, has been missing all day. The weather vane was apparently blown down by the storm, but the area around Town Hall has been searched thoroughly, and no trace of it has been found.
“The weather vane is about three feet long and weighs sixty pounds. It is over two hundred years old and believed to be one of the grasshopper vanes made by Shem Drowne, a Colonial coppersmith who crafted the famous grasshopper for Faneuil Hall in Boston. Authorities consider the Sleepyside weather vane to be very valuable, and it’s feared that it has been stolen.”
“There!” Trixie gasped. “See what I mean?”
Her father hushed her.
“…a word from Sergeant Molinson of the Sleepyside Police,” the newscaster continued.
“Good evening.” Sergeant Molinson s familiar gruff voice came from the radio. “We must now assume that the antique weather vane from the top of our Town Hall has been stolen. The police department asks that all citizens of Sleepyside be on the alert. Any information concerning the possible whereabouts of the weather vane should be reported to the police at once. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Well, now it’s official,” Trixie said.
“You were right, young lady,” her father conceded. “You know, it’s funny—I must have looked at that weather vane a million times over the years, and I never gave a thought to the possibility that it might be valuable.”
“I never did either,” Mrs. Belden agreed. “Maybe it should have been on display in the museum, locked up in a case. But it’s always seemed so-so natural for it to be up there on top of Town Hall.”
Trixie slumped in a chair. “And we were going to announce our walk-a-thon on WSTH tomorrow,” she said.
“Yeah,” Brian added, “but there’s no sense in trying to raise the money for recoppering the weather vane now.”
“I hate to say this, Trixie,” Mart mumbled. “But I think Hoppy’s luck just ran out.”
Bob-Whites on the Air • 10
HONEY TELEPHONED early the next morning. “Don t take the bus this morning, Trixie,” she said excitedly. “Jim and I will come by for all of you in the station wagon.”
“Okay,” Trixie said. “What’s up?”
“I don’t have time to tell you now,” Honey said. “See you in a few minutes.”
Trixie told her brothers that Jim would be driving them to school.
“How come?” Mart inquired.
“I don’t know,” Trixie said, “but Honey was excited about something. I guess shell tell us on the way to school.”
Bobby stood with them near the back door as they waited for the station wagon. “I kinda
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