Free Missing on Superstition Mountain by Elise Broach

H ’s. Simon, Delilah, and Jack huddled over the page, scanning the columns of names.
    â€œIs it there?” Jack demanded.
    The names went from someone named Hipley to someone named Hiverton. Henry closed the book dejectedly.
    â€œSo now what?” he asked.
    â€œI have an idea,” Delilah said, twirling one braid.
    Simon shot her a skeptical look. “What?”
    â€œWhy don’t we look for that guy who was the president. Emmett something. Remember? You said his name, Henry. He’d probably have a copy of the book.”
    â€œEmmett Trask!” Henry exclaimed. He flipped quickly to the last chunk of pages, running his index finger down the list of T last names. “Trask! Here it is. And it has his address—44 Black Top Mesa.”
    â€œDad!” Simon yelled. “Do you have a map?”
    â€œA map of what?” Mr. Barker answered.
    â€œSuperstition! Superstition! Superstition!” Jack shouted. “We’re trying to find someplace. It’s important!”
    â€œIn the top desk drawer,” came their father’s faint reply.
    Simon spread the map across the desk and checked the index. “Okay, here it is,” he said finally, tracing his finger along a thin, curving black line. “This little crooked road past the cemetery.”
    â€œThat’s almost out of town,” Delilah said. “Can we ride there on our bikes?”
    â€œSure,” Simon scoffed. “This town is tiny. It’s not far.”
    Henry thought their mom might have a different opinion about the distance to the edge of town, but he said nothing. He wanted so badly to know what was on the missing page.
    They clambered back onto their bikes. Their father, still immersed in conversation, glanced their way. “Where are you off to now?” he asked.
    â€œWe’re—” Jack began.
    â€œJust riding around,” Simon interrupted. They raced off down the street before Mr. Barker could ask any more questions.
    *   *   *
    It took them almost half an hour to ride all the way to Black Top Mesa. Simon was right, the town was small, and it wasn’t long before they reached the outskirts. But Black Top Mesa, as it happened, was not a paved road. It was dirt and gravel, full of ruts, and it threw up clouds of brown dust as they rode. Jack’s front wheel kept twisting in potholes, causing him to tumble. Finally Henry hung back, riding in front of him to lead him safely around the worst ones. Superstition Mountain loomed ahead. Even in the daylight, it seemed menacing and full of shadows.
    The number 44 was painted on a metal mailbox toward the end of the road. A long gravel drive led to a small white house with a red pickup truck parked next to it. Simon rode his bike partway down the driveway and stopped, facing the front door. The others followed.
    â€œOkay, you guys, let me do the talking,” he instructed them.
    Delilah assessed the house. “I don’t know,” she said. “Do you think it’s okay? I mean, he’s a stranger.”
    Henry wavered. Their mother would certainly not think it was okay.
    â€œYou don’t have to come if you’re scared,” Simon said impatiently.
    â€œYeah, we’re not scared,” Jack said.
    Henry was a little scared. “I think it’s okay if we stay together,” he ventured. Before they could make up their minds, the door opened and a tall man wearing glasses stepped onto the porch.
    â€œYou guys need something?” he called to them. He looked at them more closely. “You’re pretty far from the library.”
    â€œOh!” Henry cried. “It’s that guy! The one with the computer.”

    â€œHe’s not a stranger,” Jack announced, promptly pedaling right up to the porch steps. Henry hesitated, then followed him, with Simon and Delilah close behind.
    â€œAre you Emmett Trask?” Simon asked, as their four bikes skidded to a