1 The Underhanded Stitch by Marjory Sorrell Rockwell Read Free Book Online Page A

chipping away on a marble replica of that old hornswoggler as a replacement.”
    “Guilty as charged.”
    “Now tell me about the ring.” She tossed it onto the coffee table with a ka-thunk !
    “I wondered what happened to that. It wasn’t inside the bronze bust when Chief Purdue hauled it back to the Town Hall.”
    “No, because I took it. But the question is, how did you come to have it? Cookie says that Ferdinand Jinks stole it back in the eighteen hundreds, his revenge for being kicked out of the town he helped found.”
    “Well, he did burn down the Town Hall,” her husband pointed out.
    “Don’t evade the question.”
    “Sorry. I bought it from Tall Paul. You know he was a descendant of Jinks. The ring had been passed down father to son.”
    “I thought he was related on his mother’s side.”
    “True. They had to make an exception there. His mother was an only child, no brothers to get the ring.”
    “Why did you hide the ring inside the bust?”
    “Stashing it away. I was planning on donating it to the Historical Society when the new statue got erected.”
    Maddy sighed. “Tell me this, how much did you pay Tall Paul for the ring?”
    “A thousand dollars.”
    “I’m afraid you got gypped, Pooh Bear. This ring is a fake.”
     
     
     

 
Chapter Twelve
     
     
History’s Mystery
     
     
    T he next day was Tuesday, the regularly scheduled meeting of the Quilter’s Club. It was a tossup as to whether Agnes was more excited over starting on her quilt or reporting on their sleuthing.
    “Hi, Aggie,” waved Cookie.
    “Ready to start on your quilt now that you’ve done so much practicing on your stitches?” asked Lizzie.
    “Sure.”
    “After that, maybe you can solve another mystery,” teased Bootsie. She’d seen the picture in the Gazette – her husband and Maddy, Aggie and that cute little dog.
    “Grammy did most of the work solving the case,” Agnes beamed at her grandmother.
    Maddy waved away the praise. “My husband turned himself in,” she insisted. “Confessed everything to Jim Purdue.”
    “Yes, after you confronted him.” Bootsie pointed out. Being married to the police chief, she had an inside track on such matters.
    “I wanna work on my quilt,” said Agnes, not very interested in the finer points of who did what to whom.
    “Come over to the table here with the pieces of fabric you picked out. I’m going to show you how to measure and cut out your squares so that they will all be exactly the same size,” volunteered Lizzie.
    “Do I use the lines on this plastic matt?”
    “That’s right, honey. This is a measuring and cutting mat. Use the inch marks on the mat to lay out your fabric. Then use this ruler and tailor’s chalk to draw your cutting lines. Let’s make each square six inches on each side. This will be easier to finish and you can hang this on a wall in your bedroom when you’re done.”
    “Neat-o.”
    “Are you angry with Beau?” Bootsie asked her friend. Unable to let the subject go.
    “Not really. Beau’s intentions were good, but he got carried away.”
    “So you’re going to forgive and forget?”
    “He was just trying to aggrandize that stupid old ancestor of his,” Maddy shrugged off her friend’s concern. “No big deal.”
    “Yes, but he committed a crime. Not to mention that he lied to you!”
    “Your husband is overlooking the crime, so why shouldn’t I forgive the lie?”
    “Jim and Beau are buds.”
    “Well, Beau and I are a bit more than that.”
    That was logic Bootsie couldn’t refute. She zipped her lip and concentrated on stitching a straight seam. Easier said than done.
    Cookie was still curious about the details. “How did you know the Colonel’s ring was a fake?” she asked.
    “Grammy took it to a jeweler,” Agnes spoke up. “He told her the ruby was really a piece of red glass.”
    “Gems Galore on North Main,” amplified Maddy. “I was simply hoping he could confirm that it was old, from the eighteen