Free The Bell Bandit by Jacqueline Davies

against.
    The boys set to work on the frog's jumping legs. Jeff grabbed the left leg and started to wrap the thread from one of the spools around it. Mike did the same with the right leg and the other spool. Jessie started to see a picture in her head, a picture of how the spools would turn, how the strings would get tighter, how the legs of the frog would stretch and stretch and stretch until...
    Out of the corner of her eye, Jessie saw Maxwell press his other hand over his mouth. The sounds from his mouth were coming out faster and louder. Jessie felt like she was deep underwater—everywhere heaviness pressed on her. Her legs felt heavy. Her arms felt heavy. Her mouth felt sealed shut, as if a big hand had clamped down on it. She couldn't move. She couldn't think.
    Jeff began to turn the spool on the left as Mike turned the one on the right. The frog began to kick furiously, but soon the kicks became little quivers as the strings pulled in all directions. And then the quivering stopped. The frog couldn't move. All four legs were stretched as far as they could go. Only the soft green belly of the frog moved, vibrating in and out, as if its heart would beat right out of its chest. And the frog's mouth opened and closed, in what looked to Jessie like a silent scream.
    Suddenly, there
was
a scream, and Jessie had the strange thought that it came from the frog! It was a cry like Jessie had never heard before. She turned and saw Maxwell screaming wildly as he kicked at the snow, looking for something buried underneath. When he found what he wanted—a rock the size of his fist—he picked it up and hurled it through the window. The glass smashed to pieces, and Jessie jumped back. Maxwell continued to scream as if he were being skinned alive.
    And then he bolted, running back over the bridge, leaving Jessie in the dark with the two Sinclair boys staring right at her through the hole in the shattered glass.

Chapter 12
A Fair Fight
    Evan ran toward the bridge, stumbling in the deepening darkness. On the other side, he could see someone running toward him, but the light was so dim, he couldn't tell who it was. The person was running as if a wild animal were chasing it, arms clawing madly at the air, legs galloping down the hill toward the bridge. Evan had to stop abruptly at the bridge to prevent a collision.
    That's when he saw it was Maxwell. But Maxwell was supposed to be with Jessie. Where was Jessie? Who had screamed? What broke the glass?
    "Maxwell, what happened?" Evan shouted, but Maxwell wasn't stopping. He barreled over the bridge, running past Evan as if Evan didn't even exist.
    "Stop! Stop!" Evan yelled, but it seemed like Maxwell never heard him. He ran up the hill and into the woods, and then he was out of sight.
    Evan turned and raced over the bridge and up the hill where Maxwell had come from. There was a house up here, the old Jansen house. He saw that the lights were on, so he headed for the porch but then stopped. He heard voices. Coming from behind the barn. And one of them was Jessie's.
    When Evan rounded the back corner of the barn, he practically ran over his little sister. She was standing with her legs apart, buried halfway up to her knees in the deep snow, with both arms crooked at the elbow. In each hand, she held a rock the size of a baseball.
    In front of her were two boys. It took Evan just a split second to size them up. The bigger one looked to be just about Evan's size; the other one wasn't much smaller. When Jessie saw Evan, she took three quick steps backwards but kept the rocks held tightly in her fists. She'd been holding her own against the boys—that was Jessie!—but Evan could tell she was scared.
    "Hey!" Evan shouted, and took a step toward the boys.
    "Is this your brother?" shouted the older boy at Jessie. "He's not so big! We could beat him up with our hands tied behind our backs." The younger boy laughed and said, "Yeah!"
    "Come on, then," said Evan. He made a move toward