Moon Over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool Page A

the shell man. “Is there a problem here?”
    The man grimaced. “Nope.” He pulled the silver dollar from his pocket and shoved it across the counter. JudgeCarlson picked it up. “May I?” he asked Ned. He held up the coin, studying the woman’s profile, with her wavy hair and crown. “Lady Liberty. She’s a beauty.” He flipped it into the air to Ned. “Don’t spend her all in one place.”
    The judge moved on and Ned and Jinx walked away from the scowling man and his monkey.
    “I never took my eyes off that shell. I knew it was in the middle,” Ned said.
    “Just like I told you. The art of distraction. You took your eye off the shells when the monkey jumped on your shoulder. Nikki did his part and the shell guy switched the shells.”
    “You mean that monkey is trained to do that?”
    “Sure. Most people aren’t willing to make a thirty-cent bet, so they let you win a couple of easy rounds to get you to put down a couple more dimes. Then Nikki makes his move and you lose.”
    “The art of distraction,” Ned mused.
    “Yup. All kinds of things can be accomplished when someone’s looking the wrong way.” From behind his back, Jinx revealed the large red canister from Jasper Hinkley’s fireworks booth.
    Ned’s eyes got big. “Nice trick. But you can’t just steal his Manchurian Fire Thrower.”
    “It’s not stealing. It’s like the library. You check out a book, look at what’s inside, and take it back. We’ll use this canister as our model. We make our own and return this one.”
    “Then what?”
    “Then we set up shop and sell them to every kid around.”
    Ned caught sight of Pearl Ann standing in a pretty pinkdress. He headed for the popcorn wagon. “Count me out.”
    Jinx caught sight of Sheriff Dean near the popcorn wagon, and as he always did when he saw the sheriff—or any sheriff, for that matter—he turned the other way. This time he ducked into the diviner’s tent.

Frog Hunting
JUNE 5, 1936
    I n bare feet and overalls, I looked out my bedroom window. It had been several days since Miss Sadie had left me hanging with her last story, about Jinx and Ned at the county fair, and that day I had the afternoon off. The Liberty Head silver dollar mentioned in Ned’s letter had taken its place on the sill, next to the Wiggle King fishing lure. I had to admit, it was exciting and mysterious how the diviner could draw a whole story out of these little somethings. I could see why people would come to visit her.
    And they did come. I’d been going to Miss Sadie’s for a week and sometimes I’d be there only an hour or two and she’d call it quits for the day, which was fine by me. She wouldn’t say why, but then a visitor would come calling just as I was leaving. The day before, an old woman who’d seemed anxious and fretful had come. She said her mind wasn’t what it used to be.
    This morning it was a young, pretty woman. I recognized her. It was Betty Lou, the beautician from the beauty emporium, and I could tell she was close to crying. I wasn’t exactly eavesdropping, but before I got all the way out the door and past the porch window, I heard her say something about being afraid she was barren. I knew that meant she couldn’t have a baby, and wondered why she thought Miss Sadie would have anything to say about that. But maybe she just wanted someone to listen to her troubles. Miss Sadie said she’d show her how to make tea with some special herbs, and the two got quieter. I went on my way after that.
    I was glad to have the afternoon off, but I was sort of hankering to know what was going to happen with the Manchurian Fire Thrower. And had Jinx managed to avoid the sheriff? And was it Miss Sadie’s tent he’d ducked into? Had he unburdened himself to her? Had he seen her more than that one time and was that how she knew about events she wasn’t present to witness? I touched the raised face of Lady Liberty on the silver dollar. Miss Sadie was an awful purveyor of the future,