TBC 112: The Ghost in the First Row by Gertrude Chandler Warner

Author:Gertrude Chandler Warner [Warner, Gertrude Chandler]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453229019
Publisher: Albert Whitman & Company
Published: 2011-03-19T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

Uh-oh!

When the Aldens came downstairs the next morning, a pancake breakfast was waiting for them. Aunt Jane was having a cup of coffee and reading the paper. She looked up as the children came into the room.

“You’re not going to believe what’s in the paper,” she said, shaking her head.

The Aldens were instantly curious. As they crowded around, Aunt Jane read the headline aloud: IS THE TRAP-DOOR THEATER HAUNTED?

“Oh, no!” Violet cried.

Over breakfast, Aunt Jane read the article to them. It was all about the strange things that had been happening at the theater. It finished with the story of the spilled popcorn—and the spotlight shining on the first row.

“I don’t get it.” Henry lifted a sausage onto his plate. “We cleared all the popcorn away before anybody saw it. How did the newspaper find out?”

“I suppose somebody leaked it to them,” said Aunt Jane.

“But we were the only ones who knew about it,” Benny insisted, pouring syrup over his stack of pancakes.

“You’re forgetting about Ray,” Henry reminded them.

“Oh, right.” Benny licked a drop of syrup from the back of his hand.

“You think Ray told the paper?” Violet wondered.

Henry nodded. “That’d be my guess. After all, he said they wouldn’t do a write-up on the theater—unless it was sure to grab the readers’ attention.”

“But … will people still will buy tickets?” Benny wanted to know.

Aunt Jane sighed. “It could go either way.”

“Either way?” Benny repeated, not understanding.

“The Trap-Door Theater just made front-page news,” said Aunt Jane.

Henry understood what she meant. “Some people might think this is good publicity.”

Aunt Jane nodded. “Only time will tell if it brings folks into the theater or—”

“Scares them away,” finished Violet.

Everyone was unusually quiet as they ate breakfast. They were lost in thought about the mystery. It wasn’t until they stepped outside that Benny spoke up.

“Come on!” he said, breaking into a run. “Come and see what I made.”

Henry, Jessie, and Violet hurried across the yard behind Benny. They came to a stop outside the shed.

“It’s a mold of the prowler’s footprint,” Benny told them proudly.

Sure enough, a shoeprint in the dirt had been filled with plaster.

“So that’s what you were up to yesterday!” Jessie realized.

Benny nodded, beaming. “Now we can figure out who stole the box of tapes.”

“That’s good detective work, Benny,” Henry said, taking a closer look at the mold. “There’s only one problem … a prowler didn’t make this footprint.”

“How can you be sure?” Jessie asked.

Henry pulled off his sneaker. “Take a look at the tread on the bottom of my shoe.”

“Oh!” cried Violet. “It matches the markings in the plaster.”

Benny’s jaw dropped. “But …”

“I stepped in the mud yesterday,” Henry explained, “when I came out to get Alice’s appointment book for Aunt Jane.”

“That can’t be your shoeprint, Henry,” Benny insisted. “See? The mold’s too small for your shoe.”

“Benny’s right,” Violet said.

“There’s a reason for that,” Henry said. “The footprint was made when the ground was still wet from the rain. Remember what Ray told us? A footprint shrinks when the sun dries up the mud.

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