Read Online Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris-Theo 2 by R. L. Lafevers, Yoko Tanaka - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: R. L. Lafevers, Yoko Tanaka
Tags: Fiction, General, Social Science, Juvenile Nonfiction, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Magic, Mummies, Animals, cats, Adventure and Adventurers, Great Britain, London (England), Families, Archaeology, Blessing and Cursing, Museums, London (England) - History - 20th Century, Great Britain - History - Edward VII; 1901-1910, Family Life - England
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come back in just a second." I slipped a wedjat eye into the pocket of his coveralls. "If you close your eyes, it makes the dots go away faster."
By this time two constables had reached the reporter and photographer and were none too gently escorting them out the front door. Weems rushed over to Stilton, clearly appalled. "Were you speaking with that ... that
reporter?
I've a mind to give you a formal reprimand."
Oh, honestly. What did he call this—an
in
formal reprimand?
"I-I thought he was with the police. I had no idea he was—"
"Just get the mummies back where they belong," Weems scoffed. "I'll deal with you later."
As Stilton ran after Sweeny and another porter, a loud bellow erupted from the back of the museum, followed by a rapid thumping.
After a moment of startled silence, we all raced toward the sound, Turnbull in the lead, trailed closely by Father and myself. That is, until Vicary Weems pushed past me and nearly sent me careening into the wall. Beast.
When we reached the loading area, we found a bald porter lying on the ground, grimacing in pain, his leg twisted at a horrid angle. Dolge was struggling to balance the mummy they'd been carrying between them. Stilton trundled down the stairs to help.
"He tripped," Dolge explained.
"Broken leg, it looks like," Turnbull announced.
"Someone pushed me," the man gasped. "I didn't trip down no ruddy stairs. I was pushed."
"Who could have pushed you?" Turnbull asked, looking around. "We all arrived after your fall. There was no one else here."
The man set his jaw. "I don't know, but I
was
pushed. I
felt
it."
Turnbull reached up and scratched his head. "Very well. Let's get this man a doctor. Biggs! You and your men go find anyone else here who wasn't in the foyer with the rest of us. We'll want them for questioning."
But of course, I knew they'd find no one. Or no corporeal body, anyway. No. I was very much afraid that the push had been of a supernatural variety.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Miss Chittle
W HILE EVERYONE WAS BUSY SEARCHING for someone who might have pushed the porter, I decided to slip away to the reading room in order to begin my research. But before I could take more than half a dozen steps, there was an imperious rapping at the museum door. Now what? We weren't open for visitation today, and surely we didn't need any more policemen. (Or any more mummies—but I was pretty sure they wouldn't have knocked.)
Since everyone else was still sorting out the mess with the broken-legged porter, I called out, "I'll get it." I straightened my frock and quickly wiped my face in case any errant dirt or cobwebs had found their way there, then opened the door.
Grandmother Throckmorton blinked, her scowl deepening. "What are you doing opening the door? Don't you have studies to attend to?"
"Yes, ma'am." I dropped a quick curtsy. Not Grandmother Throckmorton! This was three days in a row. I wasn't sure I could take much more. "We've had a bit of excitement this morning and everything is off schedule."
"Yes," a cheerful voice boomed from just behind Grandmother. "So we heard! We thought we'd come round and see if there was anything we could do to help."
"Admiral Sopcoate, how lovely to see you again." With any luck, he would temper Grandmother's horridness.
"Well, don't leave us standing out on the stoop like common tradesmen. Let us in!"
I jumped out of the way and they entered, which was when I discovered they had brought a young woman with them. It didn't take an overactive imagination to conclude that she was most likely my newest governess.
"If that's more blasted police, don't let them in, Theodosia!" Father shouted from the far end of the room.
And how was I supposed to keep them out? I started to tell him not to worry, that it was only Grandmother Throckmorton and Admiral Sopcoate come to check on us, but Grandmother interrupted me. "Alistair! Such language!"
"Oh, hello, Mother. Admiral."
"Police?" the young woman with them repeated, her right eye
By this time two constables had reached the reporter and photographer and were none too gently escorting them out the front door. Weems rushed over to Stilton, clearly appalled. "Were you speaking with that ... that
reporter?
I've a mind to give you a formal reprimand."
Oh, honestly. What did he call this—an
in
formal reprimand?
"I-I thought he was with the police. I had no idea he was—"
"Just get the mummies back where they belong," Weems scoffed. "I'll deal with you later."
As Stilton ran after Sweeny and another porter, a loud bellow erupted from the back of the museum, followed by a rapid thumping.
After a moment of startled silence, we all raced toward the sound, Turnbull in the lead, trailed closely by Father and myself. That is, until Vicary Weems pushed past me and nearly sent me careening into the wall. Beast.
When we reached the loading area, we found a bald porter lying on the ground, grimacing in pain, his leg twisted at a horrid angle. Dolge was struggling to balance the mummy they'd been carrying between them. Stilton trundled down the stairs to help.
"He tripped," Dolge explained.
"Broken leg, it looks like," Turnbull announced.
"Someone pushed me," the man gasped. "I didn't trip down no ruddy stairs. I was pushed."
"Who could have pushed you?" Turnbull asked, looking around. "We all arrived after your fall. There was no one else here."
The man set his jaw. "I don't know, but I
was
pushed. I
felt
it."
Turnbull reached up and scratched his head. "Very well. Let's get this man a doctor. Biggs! You and your men go find anyone else here who wasn't in the foyer with the rest of us. We'll want them for questioning."
But of course, I knew they'd find no one. Or no corporeal body, anyway. No. I was very much afraid that the push had been of a supernatural variety.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Miss Chittle
W HILE EVERYONE WAS BUSY SEARCHING for someone who might have pushed the porter, I decided to slip away to the reading room in order to begin my research. But before I could take more than half a dozen steps, there was an imperious rapping at the museum door. Now what? We weren't open for visitation today, and surely we didn't need any more policemen. (Or any more mummies—but I was pretty sure they wouldn't have knocked.)
Since everyone else was still sorting out the mess with the broken-legged porter, I called out, "I'll get it." I straightened my frock and quickly wiped my face in case any errant dirt or cobwebs had found their way there, then opened the door.
Grandmother Throckmorton blinked, her scowl deepening. "What are you doing opening the door? Don't you have studies to attend to?"
"Yes, ma'am." I dropped a quick curtsy. Not Grandmother Throckmorton! This was three days in a row. I wasn't sure I could take much more. "We've had a bit of excitement this morning and everything is off schedule."
"Yes," a cheerful voice boomed from just behind Grandmother. "So we heard! We thought we'd come round and see if there was anything we could do to help."
"Admiral Sopcoate, how lovely to see you again." With any luck, he would temper Grandmother's horridness.
"Well, don't leave us standing out on the stoop like common tradesmen. Let us in!"
I jumped out of the way and they entered, which was when I discovered they had brought a young woman with them. It didn't take an overactive imagination to conclude that she was most likely my newest governess.
"If that's more blasted police, don't let them in, Theodosia!" Father shouted from the far end of the room.
And how was I supposed to keep them out? I started to tell him not to worry, that it was only Grandmother Throckmorton and Admiral Sopcoate come to check on us, but Grandmother interrupted me. "Alistair! Such language!"
"Oh, hello, Mother. Admiral."
"Police?" the young woman with them repeated, her right eye
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