Secret of the Mask by Gertrude Chandler Warner Read Free Book Online

dishes, toys and clothes—every shelf, table, countertop, and floor space covered. A woman glared at them from behind the counter. “No eating in the store,” she said.
    Violet took her book out of the window display, excitedly flipping through the pages. “Here,” she said, pointing to a drawing of Prairie Girl Katrina holding a kachina doll.
    “You mustn’t touch the merchandise,” the woman snapped.
    “But you bought all of this from our yard sale,” said Violet.
    “Yes,” said the woman, “and now it is mine. If you want it, you must buy it.”
    Violet stared at the price sticker on her book. “Fifteen dollars? But … I sold it to you for twenty-five cents!”
    “That is why I am in business,” the woman took the book, “and you are in school. These books are very old and—except for milk and tuna-salad sandwiches—the older something is, the more valuable it becomes. Now, outside, all of you.”
    The children walked out to finish their ice cream, watching as the woman dusted the items in the window display.
    “Look,” Benny pointed, “that’s our can.”
    The Crispy Crackers can sat in the back of the display with old cans and tins and metal boxes. The children ran back inside. The woman glowered at them. “I thought I told you—”
    “That can belongs to us,” Jessie said.
    “Which one?”
    “That green one, way in back.”
    The woman folded her arms across her chest. “That could be anyone’s old can.”
    “No,” said Jessie. “We can prove it’s ours.”
    “It has black burn marks on the bottom,” said Violet. “When we lived in the boxcar, we’d fill the can with water from the stream and set it on hot stones to heat water for washing and cooking.”
    “And,” Henry said, “it’s full of money.”
    “ What? ”
    “Open it,” said Jessie. “You’ll see.”
    “It … it doesn’t open.” The woman’s face turned bright red. “I tried. It’s stuck shut.”
    “I can get it open,” said Henry. And before she could stop him, he climbed into the display window and took out the can. Sure enough, the bottom of the can was burnt black. Using the heel of his shoe and a nail left over from his rain stick, Henry hammered off the lid. Dollar bills and coins spilled out. Benny quickly scurried around, picking them up.
    “That can was just sitting out on a stump near that old boxcar,” snapped the woman.
    “Yes,” said Jessie, her voice angry, “it was sitting right next to the sign—the really BIG sign—that said ‘Donations for the Homeless Shelter.’”
    “There was no sign,” she said, “just a dog and cat running around.”
    The children glanced at each other. They remembered Watch chasing the cat around the yard, knocking things over. “I guess Watch could have knocked the sign down,” said Jessie. “Still, you shouldn’t have taken the can without asking.”
    “Well, you told me that only items on the tables were for sale, and it didn’t look like something that anyone would miss so I … I … I …” Tiny drops of sweat dotted the woman’s upper lip. She patted her forehead with a handkerchief. “This was a terrible misunderstanding. I … I … I,” she took a deep breath, “I apologize.”
    It seemed so hard for her to say that the children guessed she didn’t apologize very often.
    “Look!” cried Benny, pointing to an old wooden table piled high with dishes and silverware. He reached across the table and grabbed a silver candleholder from behind a stack of dishes. It was coated with orange and black wax. “That’s Grandma Belle’s candle-holder! The one she used on Halloween.”
    Violet grabbed Henry’s arm and pulled him to one side. “What if Grandma Belle’s nurse didn’t come here to buy something,” she whispered. “What if she came here to sell?”
    Henry thought this over. He took the candleholder from Benny and set it on the counter in front of the woman. “Where did you get this?” he asked.
    The woman blinked, then