Free The Jaguar's Jewel by Ron Roy Page A

cab lurched back into traffic.
    â€œWhere to?” the driver asked over her shoulder.
    â€œNumber three forty, West One Hundred and Tenth Street,” Uncle Warren said.
    He turned to the kids. “We’ll stop at the museum first,” he said. “I’m expecting a shipment from South America.”
    Dink sat up as the driver zigzagged her way up a wide avenue. With his nose to the glass, Dink watched thousands of cars, taxis, buses, bikes, and people dodge one another. Even through the closed taxi window, he could feel the throbbing pulse of the huge city.
    Twenty minutes later, the cab hurtled to a stop in front of a building made of white marble. “Here we are,” the driver said.
    Uncle Warren handed her a few bills. “Keep the change, please.”
    â€œThanks, mister!” the driver said, smiling into her rearview mirror.
    Uncle Warren and the kids piled out of the taxi.
    â€œThis is where I work,” Uncle Warren said. He pointed to a small brass sign next to a green door. The sign read THE PORTER MUSEUM .
    Dink noticed that it was a lot quieter here. Trees stood in front of the buildings, and a few kids were drawing chalk pictures on the sidewalk. From a window across the street came the sound of someone playing a piano.
    Suddenly, he heard a voice call out, “Warren! Hello!”
    Dink saw a smiling man and woman standing in front of a small restaurant next to the museum.
    Behind them, a sign above a wide window read LE PETIT BISTRO .
    â€œCome meet my friends,” UncleWarren said, heading toward the couple.

    He introduced the kids. “And this is Jean-Paul and his wife, Yvonne,” Uncle Warren said.
    Uncle Warren pointed to the sign. “These lovely people own the best French restaurant in New York!”
    â€œHello,” the man and woman said, smiling.
    â€œNice to meet you,” the kids said all together.
    Yvonne turned to Uncle Warren. “It came!” she said. “A big, heavy box. Four men carried it upstairs to your office.”
    Jean-Paul reached into his pocket. “I went up with them, then locked the door when they left,” he said, dropping a key on a brass ring into Uncle Warren’s hand.
    â€œWhat’s in the box?” Dink asked.
    Uncle Warren winked. “Nothing much,” he said. “Only priceless gold!”

The kids followed Uncle Warren through the green door. They climbed carpeted stairs to a door with a frosted-glass window. Uncle Warren unlocked it, and they walked into a spacious, dimly lit office.
    A wooden crate nearly as tall as Dink sat on the floor.
    Dink looked around the room. A desk and some chairs were arranged on an Oriental rug. A fish tank bubbledquietly near the desk. Against one wall stood a bookcase.
    Dink peeked through another door and saw a computer on a desk, a file cabinet, and some bookshelves.
    â€œMy assistant works in there,” Uncle Warren said. “He took the afternoon off. It’s his daughter’s birthday, and they’ve gone to the zoo.”
    â€œYou have a zoo?” Josh asked.
    â€œYes, right here in Manhattan we have the Central Park Zoo,” Uncle Warren said. “It’s pretty small, but there’s also the Bronx Zoo, which is enormous!”
    Uncle Warren flipped up three switches on the wall. Suddenly, a ceiling fan began whirring around. Music came from hidden speakers. Overhead lights beamed down on them.
    â€œThis is a cool office!” Dink said.
    â€œThank you,” his uncle said. Hepointed to the fish tank. “Who’d like to feed my little friends?”
    â€œI would!” Ruth Rose said.
    Uncle Warren handed her a container of fish food and showed her how much food to sprinkle on the water.
    â€œLook at this!” Josh said, lifting a shiny silver dagger off the desk. The blade was curved, and the handle was shaped like a soaring hawk.
    â€œCareful,” Uncle Warren said. “It’s sharp! I use it as