Free Great Detective Race by Gertrude Chandler Warner

CHAPTER 1
Ready … Set … Go!
    “It just hit me!” cried six-year-old Benny. He snapped his fingers. “I know the perfect gift!”
    Ten-year-old Violet looked over at her little brother. “What’s that, Benny?” she asked.
    “A book about codes and clues!”
    “Oh, Benny!” Jessie, who was twelve, couldn’t help laughing. “That’s a perfect gift for us. ”
    “We’re supposed to be looking for something for Mrs. McGregor,” Henry pointed out.
    Henry was fourteen. He was the oldest of the Aldens.
    “Not everybody likes mysteries as much as we do, Benny,” Violet said. In fact, the Aldens loved mysteries. And together, they’d managed to solve quite a few.
    “Mrs. McGregor loves cooking,” Jessie reminded Benny.
    The four Alden children—Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny—were standing in the Rat Cellar, a bookstore in Greenfield. They were shopping for a birthday present for their housekeeper.
    “Yes,” said Benny. “Mrs. McGregor’s the best cook in the whole world.”
    “Yes,” Jessie said thoughtfully. “Maybe we should be looking at cookbooks.”
    “That’s a great idea,” agreed Henry. Benny nodded.
    But Violet wasn’t so sure. “Mrs. McGregor already has so many cookbooks. Don’t you think we should get her something really special, Jessie?”
    Jessie wasn’t listening. Something had caught her eye. The others followed her gaze to a poster on the wall.
    “The ballet’s performing Swan Lake at the Greenfield Theater,” Jessie said. “And Mrs. McGregor loves ballet!”
    “Oh, Jessie!” Violet clapped her hands. “That really would be the perfect gift!”
    There was no stopping Benny. The youngest Alden raced over to the checkout. “We’d like to buy a ticket to Swan Lake, please,” he told the salesclerk.
    The other Aldens smiled. They could always count on Benny to act fast.
    The young woman behind the counter shook her head. “I’m afraid we don’t sell them here. Why don’t you try the ticket outlet in the Greenfield Mall,” she suggested.
    “Thanks,” said Henry. “We will.”
    As they turned to go, a smartly dressed woman, her hair streaked with gray, suddenly stormed through the door.
    “Not a single copy!” she almost shouted. “I don’t see a single copy of The Art of Good Manners in sight.” The woman glared at the sales clerk. “You promised to display my books in your store window.”
    “Oh!” The young woman behind the counter blinked in surprise. “You must be the author—Amber Madison.”
    “Well, who else would I be? I came all the way from Boston to promote my book. But it looks like I made the trip for nothing!”
    “I’m so sorry, Miss Madison,” the salesclerk apologized. “We’ve been rather busy around—”
    “I’m not interested in your excuses!” the author snapped, cutting her short. “Do your job—or else!” With that, Amber Madison walked out.
    The sales clerk let out a sigh as the door closed. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she told the Aldens. “I have work to do.”
    “No problem,” said Henry. “Thanks for your help.”
    As they stepped outside, Jessie shook her head. “I think Amber Madison should read her own book on manners.”
    Benny frowned. “She wasn’t very nice.”
    “I guess she was disappointed,” said Violet, who always liked to think the best of people. “About her books, I mean.”
    “That doesn’t excuse her for being rude,” Jessie insisted, as they headed for the mall.
    “One thing’s for sure,” put in Henry, “a book on manners is the very last thing Mrs. McGregor needs.”
    “Mrs. McGregor’s always polite,” agreed Benny.
    “We’re lucky to have her in our lives,” Violet said with a nod.
    After their parents died, the four Alden children had run away. For a while, their home was an empty boxcar in the woods. But then their grandfather, James Alden, found them, and he brought them to live with him in his big white house in Connecticut. Even the boxcar was given a special