Free The Perilous Journey by Trenton Lee Stewart Page B

“Something to get them out long enough for us to slip in and grab it.”
    “Any ideas?” Reynie asked.
    Sticky began to look around the room as if seeking inspiration. Everything he saw was familiar to him already: the open wardrobe with its array of yellow clothing; the basket of sewing materials and stacks of science journals by the bed (Number Two scarcely slept — seldom more than an hour or two — and filled her long night hours with quiet activity); the tidy writing desk with its bouquet of pencils in a cup; and of course the well-stocked cupboard full of snacks (for though she required little sleep, Number Two had to eat almost constantly or else grow irritable and faint).
    “I wish we hadn’t come in here,” Sticky muttered, depressed by so many reminders of their missing friend. He went to the window to give himself something different to look at.
    Different, though, hardly described what Sticky saw through the window. Indeed, it was one of the strangest spectacles he’d ever witnessed. In the courtyard below, the three police officers were spinning round and round with their legs flying out behind them, as if they were the spokes of a wheel. They were all trying to hold onto whatever it was that was spinning them; they had all lost their caps; and one had even lost his toupee, which lay on the ground nearby like a stunned ferret. At the same time, on the sidewalk beyond the fence, the unpleasant Mr. Bane appeared to have just attempted an unsuccessful headstand, for he lay on his back staring confusedly at the sky. And as if all this weren’t enough to make Sticky suspect he was dreaming, no sooner had his brain registered the bizarre scene than a large bird swooped down into it, snatched the policeman’s toupee, and flew up into the eaves of the house.
    Sticky rubbed his eyes, stared out again, and suddenly understood. “I think we have our distraction — Moocho Brazos just arrived.”
    The others rushed to the window (Sticky gave Constance a boost so she could see) and quickly made sense of the commotion below: Moocho had come to see Kate for some reason; Mr. Bane had rudely refused to admit him, which had got him tossed over the fence; and the police officers had then felt compelled to restrain the huge man, which they did first by grabbing him, then by clinging desperately as he tried to spin them off on his way to the front door.
    A buzzer rang somewhere in the house below, followed by the sound of doors banging open and people rushing down hallways and stairs. The guards were swarming to the exits, and everyone else was hurrying to windows to see what was the matter.
    “Sticky’s right!” said Reynie. “Now’s our chance!”
    And whirling around as fast as he could, he discovered the bedroom door wide open and Kate Wetherall already gone.

    They found Kate coming up the stairs just as they were starting down. In her arms was a massive old dictionary, and her blue eyes twinkled with excitement. She pointed back the way they’d come. Everyone turned and headed straight to Constance’s room, where Kate locked the door and went to the window.
    “Good,” she said, peeking out, “Rhonda’s down there trying to clear things up. That buys us time.” She clucked her tongue. “Poor Moocho. I’ll bet he got her telegram and was worried out of his head.”
    “You weren’t seen?” Sticky asked.
    Kate shrugged. “Nope.”
    Even knowing her as they did, the others stared at Kate, flatly amazed. In a matter of seconds — in the time it took the rest of them just to reach the stairway — she had flown down the stairs into the study, found the dictionary, and come out again without being spotted. It seemed impossible.
    Kate noticed their expressions. “What?” She bent to look at herself in Constance’s wall mirror. “Do I have something on my face?”
    “Just show us the stupid dictionary,” said Constance resentfully. (
She
still had trouble tying her
shoes.
)
    Kate laid the thick book