bag opened. The interior was lined with gold satin, which nearly blinded them with a burst of light.
“Oh!” was all Ruthie could say as the glow lit up Jack’s face. The luminosity appeared to be radiating from one spot underneath the gold fabric.
“I think there’s something in there,” Jack said, fingering the fabric. “I feel something hard.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you’re just feeling the beadwork from the other side.”
“No. It feels different, like something flat, maybe a large coin.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Swiss army knife. He pulled the scissor implement from its slot.
“What are you doing, Jack? You can’t cut it!” Ruthie was horrified.
“I’ll just undo the stitching along the inside seam. We can stitch it back up.”
“You’ll ruin it!” Ruthie cried.
“Someone hid something in the lining and we need to find out what it is! I’ll be super careful,” he promised.
Ruthie’s mind spun. Someone had hidden something? What? Who? “Okay.” She breathed deeply.
Jack deftly cut the tiny threads of the inside seam, avoiding any damage to the fabric. When he’d cut about an inch he wiggled his finger in. He looked at Ruthie with a grin.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know yet.” He made a few more snips so he could get two fingers in the opening, then pulled them out. Between his index and middle fingers was a flat piece of metal, slightly larger than a quarter. He dropped it into his palm. It pulsed with light. And the handbag slowly stopped glowing.
“Do you have any idea what it is?” Ruthie asked, astonished by what she was seeing.
It was nothing at all like Christina’s key, no elaborate metalwork. The metal looked cheap, and the design was very plain. Scuffed and scratched, it was roughly a square, with letters and numbers stamped into it on the diagonal. A hole had been punched at one of the corners. If she had come across it on the ground, it wouldn’t have lookedlike anything of value—except for the fact that it was glowing.
“What does that say?” Ruthie asked. It was hard to make out because the metal was so worn. “It looks like
C-h-a-r
something. And then some numbers—
587
. And some more letters—something
v-a-n-t, 1835
. What is it?”
“Beats me; kind of looks like a really beat-up pet license or a soldier’s dog tag.” Jack shook his head. “But I think you have to try touching it.”
Ruthie looked around first to make sure no one was near, then he handed it to her. The moment she touched it, the glow from the odd object increased, the warmth spreading just like the key. The neckline of her T-shirt began to feel loose, and the process that was now so familiar to Ruthie began.
Before she had shrunk even an inch, she dropped it right back in Jack’s palm, and brushed away the hair that had suddenly blown in her face. As soon as Jack got past the surprise of what had just started to happen, he smiled. “We’ll get to warn Louisa after all,” he said.
Ruthie felt overwhelmingly relieved. “I hope it works like the key works and you’ll shrink with me.”
“Only one way to find out,” Jack responded.
They went back into the gallery, which was beginning to feel crowded, and stood near the door to the corridor.
“Is it my imagination, or is that guard over there watching us?” Jack whispered.
Ruthie shot a glance in that direction. “Let’s just go over here for a few minutes to be safe,” she said, walking away from the alcove toward the American rooms. They were directly in front of room A1, the room from Massachusetts at the time of the Salem witch trials.
As she looked at the room Ruthie felt a jolt. “Do you see what I see? Or don’t see?” she asked.
“I don’t know—what?”
“Thomas’
Mayflower
! It’s gone!”
“Maybe it’s been moved.”
They looked, but they didn’t see it anywhere.
“First the globe. Now the
Mayflower
,” Ruthie said. “I wonder what else is missing.”
“This
“Oh!” was all Ruthie could say as the glow lit up Jack’s face. The luminosity appeared to be radiating from one spot underneath the gold fabric.
“I think there’s something in there,” Jack said, fingering the fabric. “I feel something hard.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you’re just feeling the beadwork from the other side.”
“No. It feels different, like something flat, maybe a large coin.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Swiss army knife. He pulled the scissor implement from its slot.
“What are you doing, Jack? You can’t cut it!” Ruthie was horrified.
“I’ll just undo the stitching along the inside seam. We can stitch it back up.”
“You’ll ruin it!” Ruthie cried.
“Someone hid something in the lining and we need to find out what it is! I’ll be super careful,” he promised.
Ruthie’s mind spun. Someone had hidden something? What? Who? “Okay.” She breathed deeply.
Jack deftly cut the tiny threads of the inside seam, avoiding any damage to the fabric. When he’d cut about an inch he wiggled his finger in. He looked at Ruthie with a grin.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know yet.” He made a few more snips so he could get two fingers in the opening, then pulled them out. Between his index and middle fingers was a flat piece of metal, slightly larger than a quarter. He dropped it into his palm. It pulsed with light. And the handbag slowly stopped glowing.
“Do you have any idea what it is?” Ruthie asked, astonished by what she was seeing.
It was nothing at all like Christina’s key, no elaborate metalwork. The metal looked cheap, and the design was very plain. Scuffed and scratched, it was roughly a square, with letters and numbers stamped into it on the diagonal. A hole had been punched at one of the corners. If she had come across it on the ground, it wouldn’t have lookedlike anything of value—except for the fact that it was glowing.
“What does that say?” Ruthie asked. It was hard to make out because the metal was so worn. “It looks like
C-h-a-r
something. And then some numbers—
587
. And some more letters—something
v-a-n-t, 1835
. What is it?”
“Beats me; kind of looks like a really beat-up pet license or a soldier’s dog tag.” Jack shook his head. “But I think you have to try touching it.”
Ruthie looked around first to make sure no one was near, then he handed it to her. The moment she touched it, the glow from the odd object increased, the warmth spreading just like the key. The neckline of her T-shirt began to feel loose, and the process that was now so familiar to Ruthie began.
Before she had shrunk even an inch, she dropped it right back in Jack’s palm, and brushed away the hair that had suddenly blown in her face. As soon as Jack got past the surprise of what had just started to happen, he smiled. “We’ll get to warn Louisa after all,” he said.
Ruthie felt overwhelmingly relieved. “I hope it works like the key works and you’ll shrink with me.”
“Only one way to find out,” Jack responded.
They went back into the gallery, which was beginning to feel crowded, and stood near the door to the corridor.
“Is it my imagination, or is that guard over there watching us?” Jack whispered.
Ruthie shot a glance in that direction. “Let’s just go over here for a few minutes to be safe,” she said, walking away from the alcove toward the American rooms. They were directly in front of room A1, the room from Massachusetts at the time of the Salem witch trials.
As she looked at the room Ruthie felt a jolt. “Do you see what I see? Or don’t see?” she asked.
“I don’t know—what?”
“Thomas’
Mayflower
! It’s gone!”
“Maybe it’s been moved.”
They looked, but they didn’t see it anywhere.
“First the globe. Now the
Mayflower
,” Ruthie said. “I wonder what else is missing.”
“This
Similar Books
