Backyard Bandit Mystery

by Beverly Lewis

  Jason rolled his eyes and backed away. “Whoa, don’t look at me!” he said. “I like to cook breakfast in my pajamas.”

  “Why don’t you use a frying pan? Isn’t that kinda messy?” Eric said.

  Now they were all laughing.

  Even Jason.

  Stacy glanced up the street. “Hey, look,” she said.

  The kids turned to see where she was pointing.

  “Mr. Tressler’s got pajamas,” she said. “I can see them from here.”

  The striped pj’s were hanging on the clothesline.

  “I wonder if Mr. Tressler wants to donate something,” Dunkum said.

  “Let’s go find out,” Jason said.

  Stacy and Dunkum looked at each other.

  “Why don’t you ask him?” they said to Jason.

  Jason shook his head. “This wasn’t my idea.”

  “OK, I’ll go,” Dee Dee said.

  She started down the sidewalk. Then she turned back.

  “What am I supposed to say?” she asked.

  Stacy sighed. “C’mon. I’ll go with you.”

  And she did.

  FIVE

  It was right after lunch. Time for the yard sale.

  The sun was hot.

  Stacy made lemonade for everyone.

  Dunkum brought a folding table.

  Eric borrowed his mother’s old tablecloth.

  Jason brought a long electric cord. It was to plug in Dunkum’s radio.

  “Music always livens things up,” Jason said.

  Everyone agreed.

  Dee Dee sat in the grass and made a sale sign. She drew the letters carefully.

  Dunkum watched. “The e’s are inside out,” he told her.

  Stacy went over to look. “Who cares?” she said. “We’re just kids, right?”

  Dee Dee smiled up at Stacy. “You’re nice,” Dee Dee said.

  Stacy picked up the sign. “You did an excellent job.”

  Dee Dee got up and stuck the sign on the tablecloth.

  “We need some nickels, dimes, and pennies,” Dunkum said.

  “What for?” Jason asked.

  “To make money, we have to start with some,” Dunkum explained. “We might need to make change.”

  “What about the two dollars and fiftythree cents in our club fund?” asked Stacy.

  “Good thinking,” Dunkum said. He dashed out the backyard gate.

  Together, Dee Dee and Stacy arranged the sale table.

  They displayed Mr. Tressler’s striped pj top. Stacy put it beside her grandpa’s green pajama top.

  “Now we’ve got two tops and no bottoms,” Dee Dee said.

  Stacy and Dee Dee giggled about it. They had fun sorting everything.

  Stacy stepped back for a look. “This is really a good idea,” she said.

  Dee Dee grinned. “If you must say so yourself!”

  “Well, it’s my idea,” said Stacy.

  “That’s just what I mean,” Dee Dee said.

  Jason came over and turned up the radio. He danced around. Then he said, “Let someone else toot your horn, Stacy.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Stacy muttered. She felt silly about bragging.

  Real silly.

  The Cul-de-sac Kids posted signs all over Blossom Hill Lane.

  They told their parents. And their friends.

  Now they were ready for customers. Lots of them.

  Stacy could almost see the flags flying. Seven beautiful flags for Flag Day.

  The Cul-de-sac Kids waited.

  And waited.

  The sun got hotter.

  And hotter.

  They poured glasses of lemonade. One after another.

  “We oughta charge ourselves for the drinks,” Dee Dee said.

  Dunkum nodded. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Stacy agreed. “It would be one way to make money.”

  “Yeah, because nobody’s showin’ up,” Dee Dee said.

  Eric wiped his forehead. “It’s too hot, that’s why.”

  “We need some shade,” Dunkum said.

  Stacy remembered something in the attic. “I might have just what we need.” She darted into the house.

  Upstairs, she crawled on her knees. She looked under the little attic bed.

  There it was.

  She stretched her arm as far as she could.

  The old striped canvas wasn’t very big, but it might work.

  Now she needed some tools.

  She called for Grandpa. “I need a little help.”

  Grandpa came to the attic in his undershirt and some red shorts. He was very round in certain places.

  Stacy tried not to stare.

  It was too hot for Grandpa to care.

  “Here we are.” He found just what they needed: a hammer and nails.

  Grandpa headed for the kitchen door.

  Stacy stopped. “Uh, are you going outside?” she asked.

  Grandpa curled the canopy under one arm. “Show me where you want this thing,” he said.

  Stacy took a deep breath. Grandpa was going out dressed like that!

  She held the door open for him. And she carried the hammer and nails outside.

  Grandpa called, “Hey, kids!”

  Everyone turned to look.

  “Gonna have yourselves some shade,” he told them.

  The Cul-de-sac Kids cheered.

  “Hoo-ray for Stacy’s grandpa,” Jason said.

  Stacy put on a smile. She tried not to think about Grandpa’s undershirt. And not his red jogging shorts.

  Dee Dee whispered, “Isn’t that his underwear?”

  Stacy heard it and glanced at her plump grandpa. “Those are jogging shorts,” she told Dee Dee. “Red summer shorts.”

  “Oh,” said Dee Dee. “Looks like—”

  “Nevermind,” Stacy said. “Let’s help.”

  The girls found a ladder in the garage.

  Dunkum and Eric carried it to the sale table.

  Grandpa stepped on the bottom rung. He shook it around. The shaking made his stomach jiggle. Some of the other chunky places did, too.

  Eric steadied the ladder.

  Grandpa laughed. “How old’s this thing, anyway?”

  “Be careful,” Stacy warned him. Then she handed the hammer up.

  The boys helped Grandpa with the canvas. They stretched it over some boards and hammered away.

  Jason and Dee Dee handed up the nails. One by one.

  Stacy held her breath till the job was done.

  “Awesome idea!” Jason said, looking at it.

  “It’s like an awning,” Stacy said. “Thanks, Grandpa.”

  “Any old time,” he said.

  Then he went inside the house.

  The kids hollered their “thank-you’s.”

  Now they could have their super sale.

  Shady and fine.

  Grandpa’s real cool, thought Stacy.

  SIX

  It was the middle of the afternoon.

  “We’re running out of lemonade,” Jason said.

  “I’ll make some more,” said Stacy. She hurried to the house.

  Grandpa was sitting near the kitchen fan. “Any customers yet?” he asked.

  “It’s too hot, but they’ll come,” Stacy said.

  Granny came in the room. “Who’s coming to what?” she asked.

  Stacy explained about the yard sale. “Go out and have a look,” she said.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Granny said.

  But Grandpa was waving his hands at Stacy. He was trying to signal her.

  Stacy finally caught on. “Oh . . . uh,” she started to say.

  Too late. Granny was already heading for her purse.

  “Sorry about that,” Stacy told Grandpa. “I forgot.”

  He shook his head. “Who knows, maybe she won’t spot my old things.”

  Stacy laughed. “Granny’s real sharp. She’ll notice, all right.”

  Soon, Granny came back with her cane and her purse
. “I’m gonna have me some fun,” she said.

  Out she went.

  Grandpa went to the window. He stood there fussing.

  Stacy stirred sugar into the lemonade. “Wanna taste?” she asked.

  Grandpa came over. “Sure do,” he said and sipped a little.

  Then he frowned and thought about it. “Well, I don’t know. Give me a little more.”

  Stacy poured more lemonade.

  Grandpa drank all of it.

  Then he thought and frowned. “I think it’s still too sour.”

  Stacy added a pinch more sugar. “Now try it.”

  Grandpa held out his glass. “Give me plenty,” he said.

  Then Stacy began to giggle. “You don’t fool me, Grandpa. Why didn’t you ask for a full glass to start with?”

  Grandpa chuckled and winked at her.

  “My friends are dying of thirst,” Stacy said. “I’d better get back outside.” She carried the tall pitcher carefully.

  Granny passed her on the garden path.

  But Stacy was too busy to look. She didn’t notice if Granny had made any purchases.

  Stacy set the pitcher down on the sale table.

  The kids came running.

  She poured one glass after another. Then she sat under the table and fanned herself. “Maybe it’s just too hot for a yard sale.”

  “No way!” Dee Dee said. “It’s a totally cool idea!”

  “Yep,” said Jason. “And we just made some bucks.”

  Stacy couldn’t believe it. “We did?”

  Dunkum filled her in. “Your granny bought several things. She’s a big spender.”

  Stacy laughed. “Let me guess,” she said. “A half pair of pj’s?”

  “You got it,” Eric chimed in. “And some smelly perfume, too.”

  “Anything else?” asked Stacy.

  Eric was smiling. “I bought your beanbag angel. For fifty cents!” He pushed the angel into his pocket. Its halo stuck out. “Do ya think Abby will like it?”

  Stacy gulped. “Did you say ‘Abby’?” she squeaked.

  “Yeah. It’s gonna be her birthday present from me,” Eric said.

  “You’re giving my angel to Abby?” said Stacy.

  Eric nodded his head. “Tomorrow, when she gets back from camping,” he said.

  Dee Dee wrinkled her nose and stared at Stacy.

  Stacy looked at Dee Dee and made another gulp.

  They’d sold the present Abby had given to her. And Eric was using it for a birthday gift.

  I have to get it back, she thought.

  But how?

  SEVEN

  It was supper time. The kids went home to eat. They left the yard sale table all alone.

  “See ya,” Jason shouted.

  “’Bye,” said Stacy.

  “Have a good supper,” Eric called.

  The angel stuck out of his pocket.

  What’ll I do? Stacy worried.

  Then her mother called, “Ready to eat?”

  “I’m coming,” Stacy said. She clunked into the house.

  She smelled fried chicken. But she didn’t feel hungry.

  Sniff. Something else smelled good.

  Granny grinned. “Such a nice backyard sale,” she said.

  “Glad you liked it,” Stacy told her.

  Grandpa winked. He smelled just like the yard sale cologne.

  Stacy wondered about the pajama top. But she didn’t say a word. Not a single one.

  Poor Grandpa. Now he’d have to wear his pj top for sure.

  Stacy thought and thought. Wearing pajama tops or bottoms wasn’t a problem. But something else was.

  Eric was going to give Abby the beanbag angel. That was a problem. A BIG one.

  I have to stop him, Stacy decided.

  Determined, she gave him a call.

  “I need my angel back,” she said.

  “Why?” Eric asked.

  “I shouldn’t have sold it,” she said. “That’s why.”

  “Well, you did. And now I have to eat supper,” he said.

  Eric hung up.

  Stacy wanted to run across the street. Right to his house—right this minute!

  After supper, Stacy took an old sheet outside. She wanted to cover up the sale stuff. She wanted to make sure everything was safe.

  But something seemed strange.

  She looked all around the table. “This is weird,” she whispered to herself.

  The table seemed empty. Very empty.

  She thought of all the cool sale items. Dunkum’s and Eric’s things. Dee Dee’s stuff.

  “Where is everything?” she said out loud.

  Then she glanced around, feeling worried. Had a thief come during supper?

  Carefully, she inspected the table.

  Two of Dunkum’s baseball gloves were missing. So was his radio.

  Dee Dee’s cat collar was gone. The bee stuffed animal and guitar records were missing. And a bunch of other things.

  “I don’t remember selling any of those,” she said.

  Stacy searched everywhere.

  Where could they be? she wondered.

  Then an idea struck.

  Maybe the kids had taken some of the things home. For safekeeping. Maybe that’s what had happened.

  Stacy thought hard.

  Nope, the kids wouldn’t do that. Not without telling her.

  So Granny was the one to talk to. Maybe she had bought all those things.

  Maybe . . .

  Stacy checked around for the money box. Gone.

  Dunkum probably had it. He was in charge of the club fund.

  She hurried back inside.

  “We’re ready for dessert,” said her mother.

  “Where’s Granny?” Stacy asked.

  “Down the hall,” her mother said.

  Stacy found Granny in the bedroom. She asked about the missing sale items.

  “I bought two things,” Granny said. She held up two fingers. “Nothing else.”

  Stacy didn’t need to be told what they were.

  “Are we ready for dessert?” her mother called.

  Stacy hurried back to the kitchen. She picked up the wall phone. “First, I have to call Dunkum,” she said. “It’s very important.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “What’s more important than strawberry shortcake?” he teased.

  “A backyard bandit,” Stacy said. “I think someone’s stealing our sale stuff.”

  Grandpa scratched his head. “What a horrible thing. Can’t kids have any fun these days?”

  “I’m gonna find out what happened,” Stacy told him.

  He got up and peered out the back door. “Who’d want to do such a thing?”

  “That’s what I wanna know,” Stacy said.

  She punched the phone numbers.

  Dunkum answered. “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s Stacy. I think someone’s ripping us off!” She explained about the missing things.

  “Maybe you should do some spying,” he suggested. “Maybe the thief will come back.”

  “Good idea!” she said. “I’ll spy tonight . . . after dark.”

  “Be careful,” Dunkum warned.

  “I will,” she said. “I promise.”

  Stacy hung up and ate her dessert.

  Then she headed outside.

  But she could only think of one thing. The yellow beanbag angel. A gift from her very best friend.

  EIGHT

  The moon was full. Too bright for spying.

  Stacy crept outside anyway.

  She found an empty trash can. But it was too far from the sale table. So she dragged it across the backyard.

  She thought, good idea. And crawled inside the smelly garbage can.

  For a few minutes, she pinched her nose shut. But breathing through her mouth was horrible.

  Who knows what might fly in! she thought.

  Wicked worms and bugs and things. All of them might be crawling inside the trash can.

  Icksville! Stacy sh
ivered.

  She let her nose do the breathing.

  But . . .

  Pee-uu-wee! What a sick smell.

  Quickly, she lifted the lid for some fresh air.

  She saw two shadows. Kid-sized ones.

  Who were they?

  Stacy inched the lid off the trash can. She leaned forward and listened.

  The shadows were whispering.

  Were they inspecting the sale stuff? Plotting to steal?

  She perked up her ears. The voices were familiar.

  Dee Dee and Eric! And they were discussing something.

  Stacy listened hard. She leaned and watched.

  “I’ll trade my parrot for your leather coin case,” a voice said.

  It was a tiny voice. A Dee Dee Winters voice!

  Had Stacy heard right? Did Dee Dee want to trade something?

  Stacy kept listening. She couldn’t believe her ears.

  Now the boy shadow was talking. Sounded like Eric Hagel.

  Stacy couldn’t hear everything he was saying. But it was about Dee Dee’s stuffed animal. Her parrot—all blue, green, and orange.

  What’s going on? Stacy wondered.

  She watched closely.

  Now Dee Dee was holding her cat up to the table. “Did ya ever see such a cool backyard sale?” she said.

  Mew, replied Mister Whiskers.

  Dee Dee giggled. “You know a good sale when ya see it,” she said.

  Eric laughed. He held up his hamster. “Fran the Ham says there oughta be free lettuce to munch.” He made his voice sound twittery. Like a hamster.

  Dee Dee and Eric went on and on. They were talking back and forth, pretending.

  At last, Eric spoke in his regular voice. “Won’t our flags look great for Flag Day?” he said.

  “Stacy’s idea was real cool,” Dee Dee answered.

  Stacy felt a kink in her leg. She tried to stretch inside the trash can.

  I have to get out of here, she decided.

  But . . .

  She leaned too hard.

  Bang-a clank!

  The trash can fell over, and Stacy tumbled out.

  Eric and Dee Dee screamed and ran away.

  Stacy crawled out of the trash can. “So much for spying,” she muttered.

  She stood there alone in the moonlight.

  Rats!

  She brushed herself off. No more icky insects crawling on her!

  Silently, she ran to the house.

  She felt terribly upset. And she smelled like a trash heap.

  So she took a bath and went to bed.

  Later, in the darkness, she reached for her beanbag angel.