Free The Spy Who Came North from the Pole by Mary Elise Monsell Page A

Otis!” shouted Maggie. “I’m glad to see you. Any minute now I was sure I was going to see a ghost.”
    â€œHasn’t been one here for a few months,” said Uncle Otis. Only half of his mouth turned up in a smile.

    â€œThis is Mr. Pin,” said Maggie.
    â€œDetective Pin. Reasonable rates,” said the rock hopper penguin, tipping his checked cap.
    Crash!!
    â€œWhat was that?” asked Otis.
    â€œA ghost!” cried Maggie.
    â€œNo,” said Mr. Pin, darting between columns. “Someone dropped a gargoyle.”
    â€œA thief?” asked Otis.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œI thought I heard breathing before, and it wasn’t ours,” said Maggie.
    Maggie and Otis rushed over to where Mr. Pin was examining an odd-shaped stone face that had been broken into several pieces.
    â€œWhat is it?” asked Maggie.
    â€œIt used to be a gargoyle,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œSo where’s the thief now?” asked Otis.
    â€œA thief is only one possibility,” corrected Mr. Pin.
    But just then they heard running footsteps. A dark figure stepped into the elevator.
    â€œOver there!” said Mr. Pin, pointing with his wing. They ran to the elevator, but it was too late. The door had squeaked shut.
    â€œWe’ll take the stairs,” directed Mr. Pin. The two detectives raced down the steep stairs, followed more slowly by Uncle Otis. They made it to the first floor just in time to see someone very short step through the fog and onto a waiting bus. Maggie and Mr. Pin watched as the driver, who was wearing a trench coat, pulled the bus away from the curb.
    He was getting away!
    Mr. Pin held up his wing to signal for a cab speeding around the corner. The cab screeched to a stop. Mr. Pin and Maggie climbed in.
    â€œFollow that bus,” said Mr. Pin to the driver.
    â€œSure, mister. No problem.”
    â€œI’ve never seen a bus driver wearing a trench coat,” said Maggie.
    â€œInteresting,” said Mr. Pin. “Not only that, but I think the driver was actually waiting for whoever it was who smashed the gargoyle.”
    The bus zigzagged north, then east toward the lake.
    â€œStrange bus route,” said the driver.
    â€œStrange,” said Maggie. “I think that bus has only one passenger.”
    â€œThat is a strange bus,” said Mr. Pin. “But we’d better hurry. It’s headed toward the bridge.”
    â€œSure,” said the cabdriver.
    The taxi stayed close, but the bus was fast and the fog was thick.
    â€œThe drawbridge is going up!” shouted Maggie as they reached the Chicago River.
    â€œI might just make it,” said the driver.
    â€œNot necessary,” said Mr. Pin. And the taxi squealed to a stop just short of the rising bridge. The bus had made it over just in time.
    â€œWhew! Thank goodness we stopped,” said Maggie.
    â€œSay, mister …,” said the driver.
    â€œMr. Pin,” corrected the rock hopper.
    â€œAnd I’m Maggie.”
    â€œI’m Gus,” said the driver. “Glad to meet you. Say, when the bridge comes down, do you want me to keep going, or can I take you somewhere else?”
    â€œSomewhere else, please. We’ve lost the bus,” said Mr. Pin. “Smiling Sally’s Diner on Monroe.”
    â€œI know the place. Food’s good, and you meet interesting people,” said Gus.
    â€œI live there,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œYou do? Say, you must be the famous rock hopper penguin detective Mister … uh … Pen.”

    â€œPin.”
    â€œIs Pen short for pencil?”
    â€œNo,” said Mr. Pin. “Pin is just short, Gus.”
    â€œLike penguins, Mr. Pen?”
    â€œPin.”
    â€œRight. Well,” Gus went on, “I guess this ride is on me. No charge. Just like Smiling Sally always says, no reason why big cities can’t have big hearts. Right, Pen?”
    â€œRight. And thanks,