the main reason we ate lunch at the drugstore.”
Ever since Grandfather gave Violet a camera, she had become the family photographer.
Grandfather handed Violet a ten-dollar bill. “You children go back inside and pick them up. I’m going next door to talk to Miss Pepper about the festival.”
“Back again?” Mrs. Turner said when the Aldens pushed through the door. “Need a refill on pie?”
Benny giggled. “Violet forgot to pick up her pictures.”
Violet went up to the pharmacy counter. “Here’s my ticket, Mr. Kirby.”
Mr. Kirby frowned at the ticket. “Yes, there was a shipment from the photo lab earlier this morning. If I can remember where I put those envelopes — ”
“They’re right where you left them,” Mrs. Turner said. “In the back room on the table.”
Mr. Kirby disappeared into the back and came out again with a white envelope.
“That’ll be nine ninety-five,” he told Violet.
“Thank you,” she said. After receiving her change, she hurried outside. Looking at her photos was always an exciting moment.
Benny was even more impatient. “Where are the pictures of me?” he asked eagerly, patting Violet on her arm.
“Benny, don’t jiggle my arm,” Violet said, laughing. “I can’t open the envelope.”
“Let’s go over by the statue,” Jessie suggested. “Then we can all look at them.”
They moved to the center of the square. The statue’s base was crumbling, but it was still a good place to sit.
Violet opened the white envelope and thumbed through her photographs.
“Oh, that’s a cute picture of Watch,” Jessie commented. Watch was the Alden family’s dog.
“This one didn’t turn out.” Violet wrinkled her nose at a picture of Grandfather. She had accidentally cut off his feet in the shot.
Then she came across something that made her gasp.
“What is it?” Henry asked.
Violet held up a photograph.
“This isn’t mine,” she said. “I never took this picture.”
CHAPTER 2
Mixed-up Pictures
T he others gathered around to see Violet’s mysterious photograph, which was of the town square. In the center was the Minuteman statue.
“Are you sure you didn’t take this?” Jessie asked her sister.
Violet shook her head. “I didn’t take any shots in town.”
Henry pointed to an odd blank space in the upper half of the photograph. The white space cut off the top of Josiah Wade’s upraised musket.
“What happened there?” Henry asked.
Violet knew a little about the developing process. “The film might have been under-exposed,” she replied.
“What does that mean?” asked Benny.
“Something could have been wrong with the film. Or maybe there wasn’t enough light that day. One thing for sure,” Violet added firmly, “this is definitely not my picture.”
“Check and see if you’re missing a picture,” Henry said. “How many were on that roll?”
“Twelve.” Violet quickly counted her stack of photographs. “There are thirteen pictures here, so I’m not missing any.”
“We should take the extra picture back to the drugstore,” Jessie said. “Maybe Mr. Kirby knows who it belongs to.”
Just then Grandfather came out of Sylvia’s Blooms, the florist shop next door to Cooke’s Drugstore. A tall, dark-haired woman walked out with him, talking all the while.
When Grandfather saw the Aldens, he waved them over.
“You children remember Miss Pepper?” he asked.
The Alden children nodded politely and said hello.
Sylvia Pepper was hard to forget, Jessie thought. The woman had shiny black hair pulled back in a tight bun. Red-rimmed glasses framed her snapping dark eyes. Scarlet lipstick matched her silk dress.
Ignoring the children, Sylvia went on with her conversation.
“Don’t you agree, Mr. Alden?” she demanded.
“Well — I — ” Grandfather began.
“My building is one of the oldest in Greenfield,” she said, waving scarlet-tipped fingers as she talked. “It would be logical to put the Minuteman statue in
Ever since Grandfather gave Violet a camera, she had become the family photographer.
Grandfather handed Violet a ten-dollar bill. “You children go back inside and pick them up. I’m going next door to talk to Miss Pepper about the festival.”
“Back again?” Mrs. Turner said when the Aldens pushed through the door. “Need a refill on pie?”
Benny giggled. “Violet forgot to pick up her pictures.”
Violet went up to the pharmacy counter. “Here’s my ticket, Mr. Kirby.”
Mr. Kirby frowned at the ticket. “Yes, there was a shipment from the photo lab earlier this morning. If I can remember where I put those envelopes — ”
“They’re right where you left them,” Mrs. Turner said. “In the back room on the table.”
Mr. Kirby disappeared into the back and came out again with a white envelope.
“That’ll be nine ninety-five,” he told Violet.
“Thank you,” she said. After receiving her change, she hurried outside. Looking at her photos was always an exciting moment.
Benny was even more impatient. “Where are the pictures of me?” he asked eagerly, patting Violet on her arm.
“Benny, don’t jiggle my arm,” Violet said, laughing. “I can’t open the envelope.”
“Let’s go over by the statue,” Jessie suggested. “Then we can all look at them.”
They moved to the center of the square. The statue’s base was crumbling, but it was still a good place to sit.
Violet opened the white envelope and thumbed through her photographs.
“Oh, that’s a cute picture of Watch,” Jessie commented. Watch was the Alden family’s dog.
“This one didn’t turn out.” Violet wrinkled her nose at a picture of Grandfather. She had accidentally cut off his feet in the shot.
Then she came across something that made her gasp.
“What is it?” Henry asked.
Violet held up a photograph.
“This isn’t mine,” she said. “I never took this picture.”
CHAPTER 2
Mixed-up Pictures
T he others gathered around to see Violet’s mysterious photograph, which was of the town square. In the center was the Minuteman statue.
“Are you sure you didn’t take this?” Jessie asked her sister.
Violet shook her head. “I didn’t take any shots in town.”
Henry pointed to an odd blank space in the upper half of the photograph. The white space cut off the top of Josiah Wade’s upraised musket.
“What happened there?” Henry asked.
Violet knew a little about the developing process. “The film might have been under-exposed,” she replied.
“What does that mean?” asked Benny.
“Something could have been wrong with the film. Or maybe there wasn’t enough light that day. One thing for sure,” Violet added firmly, “this is definitely not my picture.”
“Check and see if you’re missing a picture,” Henry said. “How many were on that roll?”
“Twelve.” Violet quickly counted her stack of photographs. “There are thirteen pictures here, so I’m not missing any.”
“We should take the extra picture back to the drugstore,” Jessie said. “Maybe Mr. Kirby knows who it belongs to.”
Just then Grandfather came out of Sylvia’s Blooms, the florist shop next door to Cooke’s Drugstore. A tall, dark-haired woman walked out with him, talking all the while.
When Grandfather saw the Aldens, he waved them over.
“You children remember Miss Pepper?” he asked.
The Alden children nodded politely and said hello.
Sylvia Pepper was hard to forget, Jessie thought. The woman had shiny black hair pulled back in a tight bun. Red-rimmed glasses framed her snapping dark eyes. Scarlet lipstick matched her silk dress.
Ignoring the children, Sylvia went on with her conversation.
“Don’t you agree, Mr. Alden?” she demanded.
“Well — I — ” Grandfather began.
“My building is one of the oldest in Greenfield,” she said, waving scarlet-tipped fingers as she talked. “It would be logical to put the Minuteman statue in
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