Wizard of Washington Square by Jane Yolen Read Free Book Online Page A

indignantly. “For a genuine sixteenth-century Italian marble statue? Over four hundred years old? Why, at that price it’s a steal!”
    “It sure is,” shouted David breathlessly. “And you stole it from me. That’s my dog. And he isn’t any four hundred years old. He’s seven and a half. And here is the twenty dollars you gave me for him.”
    With that, David grabbed D. Dog, threw the money down on the table, and raced out. Leilah was right behind him.
    “Stop, you little thief!” cried Pickwell. “Come back!”
    If David and Leilah heard him, they gave no sign, but ran down the block without looking right or left, straight into a great big blue stomach that was attached to a six-foot-three policeman.
    “Now hold on there, youngsters,” said the policeman. “And where are you going in such a hurry?”
    Just then Pickwell came out of his store, shouting. When he saw the patrolman with David and Leilah, he ran over and grabbed the statue from David’s hands. “Thank goodness you caught them, Sergeant. They were trying to steal this from my store.”
    “Is that true?” the policeman asked the children, but gently, for he had a son and daughter just their age at home.
    “It’s my dog,” said David tearfully. “He stole it from me first. I was just stealing it back.”
    “The boy must have this dog confused with some other,” said Pickwell smoothly. “I’m Joseph Pickwell of VIP Interiors,” he said, and insinuated his calling card into the policeman’s hand. “Why, this statue is one of my most priceless possessions. I even display it in my shop with some trepidation. What on earth would a boy like this be doing with a sixteenth-century dog by Bonetelli, the famous Florentine sculptor?” When he said “Bonetelli,” Mr. Pickwell’s eyeglasses popped from his nose and his waxed moustache quivered.
    “That’s not Bonetelli’s dog. That’s mine,” said David. “At least it was until the Wizard changed it into a statue this morning. And he can’t change it back unless I bring it to his warren.” When he saw the policeman looking bewildered, he added, “It’s the touching that counts.”
    The policeman smiled sympathetically at David while he patted him on the head, and winked at Mr. Pickwell. Then he took David and Leilah by the hand. “Now you two children had better go home. And don’t let me catch you around here again. If I do, I’m afraid I’ll have to take you to juvenile court. And I really wouldn’t like to do that.”
    “Thank you, Sergeant ,” said Mr. Pickwell, though he knew very well the policeman was only a patrolman. “I can see you are a man of discretion and understanding.” And with a tight little smile, he adjusted his eyeglasses on his nose again and hurried back into his shop.
    “But, officer,” David began. “It really is my dog, and—”
    “I’ll take him home, sir. And thanks for letting us go,” said Leilah, pulling David toward the subway.
    The policeman watched until they started down the subway stairs then went to his call box and complained that nothing interesting ever happened on his beat.
    As they went down the stairs David said, “You’re a traitor, Leilah. Why didn’t you back me up? You know it’s true.”
    “Of course it’s true,” said Leilah. “But you’ll never convince an adult of it. Especially a policeman. They have no imagination, adults. They don’t believe in magic. The only thing left to do is go back to the Wizard and see if he can help.”
    “Oh, great,” said David. “Some help he’s been so far. If it hadn’t been for his help in the first place, we wouldn’t need his help in the second place.”
    “Well, smarty, any other ideas?” asked Leilah.
    “None,” said David glumly, reaching into his pocket for his lunch dollar to pay the subway fare. “Hey, it’s gone!”
    “What’s gone?” asked Leilah.
    “My dollar. I must have given it to old Pickleface with the other money. We’ll have to go back and