The girls reached the library just as Mrs. Baker was unlocking the front door.  “Gracious!” the librarian said, surveying the panting trio.  “Are you playing hooky today?”  The library was on Main Street, in the center of town near the post office, the town hall, and shops and businesses—but several blocks from the elementary school.

“Oh, no,” Susan assured her.  “We brought books to donate!”

“We were going to come yesterday evening, but we ran out of time before the brown-out started,” Molly explained.

“I’m glad you didn’t try to come after dark,” Mrs. Baker told them.  “I’ll be glad when we can leave safety lights on again.”

“We’re not too late, though, are we?” Linda asked anxiously. 

Mrs. Baker smiled.  “You made it in the nick of time!  Here, I’ll take those books.  Quickly, now!  You girls need to scoot to school!”

Molly grinned at her friends.  “I’ll race you!” She bolted down the library steps and took off. 

“No fair, Molly!”  Susan called.  “You got a head start!”

Molly could hear the slap-slap of her friends’ shoes against the sidewalk right behind her, and managed an extra burst of speed.  Just when she’d pulled ahead, though, a siren split the morning.

The girls skidded to a halt as a police car turned a corner onto Main Street.  The car pulled over and parked in front of the telephone company building just ahead of them.  Two police officers jumped from the car and hurried into the building.

“There’s been some kind of trouble!” Susan gasped.  “We should get out of here!”

“Hold on,” Linda objected.  “I want to see what happens!”

Molly hesitated, feeling some of both Susan’s nervousness and Linda’s curiosity.  Before the girls could move, the front door of the telephone company opened again.  The two policemen emerged with a third man held firmly between them.  The prisoner was tall and thin.  He wore a blue-and-brown plaid jacket.  His close-cropped hair was startlingly red—almost orange, really.  None of those details fit Molly’s image of a robber or gangster.

Then she caught a glimpse of the man’s face.  He looked mad at the world.  As the policemen marched him to the curb, the red-haired man tried to pull from their grasp.

“Cut that out, Fletcher!” one of the police officers barked.  “You slugged somebody, so now you’re going to jail.  Simple as that.”

Fletcher tried again to break free.  “I might as well have bought the farm, for all that anybody – ”

“Save it for the judge!” the second officer said.  The officers shoved Fletcher into the police car’s back seat, slammed the door, and got in the front.  A moment later the car disappeared down the street.

“Gosh,” Linda breathed.  “I’ve never seen anyone get arrested before.

Molly crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling cold.  She wished she hadn’t gotten such a good look at the man called Fletcher.





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Clues in the Shadows

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