Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes Read Free Book Online

and not the minister, Rachel saw in the doorway of the church when she was being a minister in the pulpit."
    He decided that at the next street corner where there was a good bright light they would wait and let the coward get past them. He wanted to tell Rachel they were being followed, but she would probably get so scared she'd yell, and then he wouldn't ever see what the person looked like. Jerry didn't know why he was so certain that the person behind them was the same person that wanted his puppy, too. But he was. His heart pounded. The fellow
better not try and take this dog away from him that he had bought just a little while ago from Mrs. Speedy for one dollar, that he and Rachel and Uncle Bennie had earned dusting the pews for tall Sam Doody. He better not.
    When they reached the brightly lighted corner of Spruce and Second Avenue, Jerry stopped suddenly, grabbing Rachel's arm to make her stop short in her tracks, too. As clear as thunder they heard the footsteps and then they heard them stop short, too.
    Still Rachel said nothing. She was not going to be told she was hearing things. But Jerry said, "You hear that?"
    "Yes," said Rachel.
    "Somebody's been following us."
    "Yes. All the way from Gramma's."
    "Yes. And I think this person was at Speedys' barn when we were there and probably followed us to Gramma's. And hung around there until we left. He's after my dog, that's what."
    "Hung around in the dark," said Rachel, her spine prickling a little, to tell the truth, though here they were in their own town of Cranbury where they knew every street and lane and practically all the people. Moreover, here they were now, under a huge
purple streetlight and outside the house of Judge Ball whose pew they had just dusted, though he didn't know it. And who could do them any harm or snatch their dog away? No one. Pooh!
    "We'll just sit here on the curb under this bright light until whoever it is comes along. When he does come we can run up on Judge Ball's front porch. He wouldn't mind. And if he doesn't come, and is just waiting for us to get going again so he can follow us some more, we just won't move. We won't move until somebody else comes by that we can walk along with and be safe."
    This was a very sensible plan and the two children sat down on the curb to wait. Jerry put his sleepy puppy inside his blouse because the evenings were getting cooler and he didn't want his puppy ever catching cold or anything. It felt wonderful having the warm little animal against his heart. He could even feel the puppy's fast little heartbeat against his.
    Jiminy crickets,
he thought.
I got a real dog now.
    While they were sitting still on the curb, they heard nothing—no footsteps, no stifled coughs or sneezes as in mystery stories, nothing. They wanted to get home. Maybe they had both been imagining things.

    "Oh, come on," said Jerry impatiently. "Let's go."
    They left the bright streetlight and they started down the dark tree-rustling street. No one was around for it was suppertime. They could smell different cooking smells as they passed each house. In one they were having pork chops, and in others they heard the clatter of dishes being washed in the kitchen.
    "Do you hear them now, the footsteps?" whispered Rachel.
    "Sh-sh-sh. No," said Jerry.
    They began to run and they made so much noise clattering up the sidewalk they couldn't hear anything but themselves anymore. They ran for a whole block and now there were just two long blocks to their home on Beam's Place. They stopped to catch their breath. They listened, trying to hear footsteps
above their panting. They did hear them. It was spooky.
    "Jiminy crickets," gulped Jerry.
    Then they had another piece of luck. Sam Doody, with a big suit box in his hand, came striding up the street, on his way home from town. He had got off the new Second Avenue trolley car. This was the second time in one day that Sam Doody had saved them; first—the dollar for dusting the pews that enabled