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

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3
    Back at the diner, Maggie, Mr. Pin, and the taxi driver named Gus were all trying to explain to Smiling Sally what had happened when the two detectives had gone to buy diner stools from Uncle Otis.
    â€œFirst it was spooky,” said Maggie. “Then it got really spooky. Then Uncle Otis showed up.”
    â€œDid he help you find some nice stools for the diner, dear?” asked Smiling Sally, passing around fresh cinnamon rolls.
    â€œHe didn’t have a chance,” said Maggie. “You see, that was when we found the gargoyle.”
    â€œI don’t think I really want a gargoyle,” said Sally.
    â€œAnyway, it was broken,” said Maggie.
    â€œOh dear,” said Sally. “Was it valuable?”
    â€œCould be,” said Mr. Pin. “We don’t know yet. But that was when we heard footsteps.”
    â€œFootsteps?”
    â€œRight,” said Maggie. “At first I thought it was a ghost. But it was really the thief who escaped in the elevator and took over a bus.”
    â€œIt might be a thief,” corrected Mr. Pin.
    â€œA ghost took over the bus?” asked Sally.
    â€œNo, the gargoyle smasher,” said Maggie.
    Mr. Pin was about to talk, but his beak was full of cinnamon roll.
    â€œThat’s where I came in,” said Gus.
    â€œOn the bus?” asked Sally.
    â€œNo,” said Maggie. “Gus helped us follow the bus to the river. But the bridge went up and the thief got away.”
    â€œMightfft mbe a thmief,” said Mr. Pin. He tried to explain, but the cinnamon roll was making his beak stick together.
    Suddenly the diner door swung open. It looked like the whole defensive line of the Chicago Bears had just walked in. But it was just Sergeant O’Malley, a large policeman who liked to eat in the diner.
    â€œPin,” he roared. “We’re going to need your help.” He strode over to a tray of cinnamon rolls and ate while he talked.
    â€œThree gargoyles have fallen from buildings in this city, and the police are baffled.”
    â€œBaffled?” asked Mr. Pin, dabbing his beak with a napkin.
    â€œBaffled,” repeated O’Malley. “These gargoyles didn’t fall by themselves. So far, no one has gotten hurt. But it could be dangerous.”
    â€œHmmmm,” said Mr. Pin. “Someone in Chicago must not like gargoyles.”
    â€œHow’s that?”
    â€œSomeone broke a gargoyle today in my uncle’s warehouse,” put in Maggie.
    â€œIs that right?” said O’Malley.
    â€œLooks like there’s a gargoyle problem in this city,” said Gus.
    Mr. Pin nodded.
    â€œOne more thing,” said O’Malley. “We found a chocolate box near the scene of one of the crimes. Thought you might be interested.”
    â€œChocolate is always interesting,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œThe chocolate box was empty, and there were no fingerprints. Here, take a look.”
    â€œToo bad about the chocolate,” said Mr. Pin as he took the box with one wing.
    â€œWe’re on the case,” said Maggie.
    â€œThanks,” said O’Malley.
    The sergeant left as suddenly as he had come in. Gus said he had to get back to his cab. That left Maggie to do her homework while Sally watched the diner. Mr. Pin went into his back room with the empty box of chocolate.
    The penguin detective looked at the box closely. He held it up to his beak. Then, very carefully using tweezers, he removed what looked like a small speck of chocolate. He set the speck on a small glass slide and put it under a microscope. Cocking his head to one side, he adjusted the focus, then peered through the lens. Much to his surprise, he saw a secret message written in brown ink!

4
    It was foggy again the next morning, and Mr. Pin had to think. He sat alone on a stool in Smiling Sally’s with a plate of chocolate-chip pancakes.
    Someone was going around the city smashing gargoyles. But why? And why was there