Free Mississippi River Blues by Tony Abbott Page A

before.
    â€œOh, my gosh!” Frankie hissed. “It’s—him!”
    We all knew it was true. This tall Spanish guy was merely disguised as a tall Spanish guy. He was in reality a tall, stinky guy named Joe. In other words, Stinky Joe!
    â€œWe’ll do the robbery, then we’ll head for Texas with all the money,” snarled Joe. “But first, there’s some revenge that I’m planning.”
    â€œRevenge?” whispered Tom.
    â€œOn us!” whispered Huck.
    â€œLet’s bury this sack of money deep and come back after the job,” said Joe. From under his poncho he pulled a knife with a blade as big as a surfboard and started hacking away at the ground near the foot of the stairs.
    Suddenly, his knife struck something.
    â€œWhat is it?” Dirt Guy asked.
    â€œA box!” said Joe. “Grab those shovels and help me.”
    Mr. Unclean took hold of our shovels and plunged one of them deep into the ground. Joe took the other and did the same. In no time, they pulled up a strongbox. With a sharp whack of the shovel, the lid flew open.
    â€œThere’s thousands of dollars here!” said Joe.
    I gasped.
    But not at the dollars.
    There was something else in the box, too.
    Frankie and I saw it at the same time and grabbed each other’s arms. We stared at the box. We stared at each other, then back at the box.
    â€œThe lost page!” she whispered.
    It was exactly that. The lost page of Mrs. Figglehopper’s classic copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer was sitting right there with the gold and silver coins in the box. I could even see the dark scrawl of the author, Mark Twain, at the bottom of the page.
    Stinky Joe shut the box with a loud clunk. “We’ll take this and hide it in our secret place—you know, number two, under the cross.”
    We all looked at one another, puzzled.
    â€œNumber two under the cross?” I whispered. “Where is that?”
    â€œWait a minute,” said Joe, staring at the shovels they had used to dig up the box. “Where did these tools come from?”
    â€œUh-oh,” whispered Frankie.
    Dirt Man stood up. “People brought them?”
    â€œPeople … who might still be here?” said Joe, peering up at the ceiling. “People who might be … upstairs?”
    I nearly had a heart attack. Forget nearly—I did have a heart attack!
    Stinky Joe grabbed that huge battle knife of his and started up the stairs.
    â€œWe’re goners!” whispered Tom. “Joe will find us and take that knife and …”
    CR-CR-CRASH! There was a horrible crackling of rotten wood as Stinky Joe tumbled to the ground amid the ruins of the stairs.
    â€œYes!” I shouted. To myself.
    â€œOhhhh, never mind this!” groaned Joe, clambering to his feet and rubbing his shoulder. “We’ll take our treasure and be gone before anyone sees us, anyhow!”
    A few minutes later, the two bandits slipped out of the house and rushed away with their precious box of gold and silver.
    And the even-more-precious lost page of our book.

Chapter 15
    â€œWe have to get it back!” I said to Frankie as we shot back to Aunt Polly’s house.
    â€œNo kidding,” she said. “If we don’t get it, we might get stuck in this book forever and never make it back home. Tom, you’ve got to help us get that treasure box!”
    But the minute we hit Aunt Polly’s house, the word treasure faded from Tom’s mind.
    It was replaced by another word.
    Picnic .
    â€œI just remembered!” Tom gasped. “Becky’s having her picnic today. I gotta go to that!”
    Frankie gave me a look. “Oh, man, not again with the Becky business? We’ve got treasure to find!”
    But Tom was too excited about the picnic to think about the treasure right then. “We’ll go up the river to McDougal’s meadow. It’s the best spot for a picnic. Then we can go exploring