Wanted . . . Mud Blossom by Betsy Byars

and then while Pap and Junior had rushed out to the scene of the crime, they had come in the house, put Scooter—or whatever his name was—back in his cage, and carried him upstairs to Vern’s room.
    As Ralphie was standing in the hall, smiling, Maggie had slammed the door in his face, but the brilliance of his deductions would make her regret that.
    Ralphie started up the steps for the second time that afternoon.
    In the front yard, Vicki Blossom was saying, “What is going on here? Can’t I go away from home for five minutes without having a murder trial in my front yard?”
    â€œMom, Mud ate the school hamster and he’s on trial for murder,” Maggie explained.
    â€œHas the world gone mad? Murder trials for horses. Now one for a hamster! I could just …”
    Smiling, Ralphie entered Vern’s room and picked up the cage. He went back down the stairs, opened the front door. His heart raced with pleasure.
    He flung open the screen door and stood in the doorway, with the cage behind him. “The final piece of evidence,” he said, “the final reason my client could not have committed murder is that there has been no murder!”
    They were all looking at him. He loved it. He just loved it. Maybe he would be a real lawyer when he grew up. He sure had the brains for it. His brown eyes glinted like metal.
    With that he brought out the cage. “Your honor, I give you—Scooty.”
    There was a moment of absolute and stunned silence, then total confusion. Vern and Michael were protesting that they hadn’t had time to give their verdict and they had really worked on that verdict. They had practiced saying “Innocent” in unison until they had it down pat.
    And, besides, they were the ones who had saved Scooty in the first place. It wasn’t fair.
    Junior, able to rise at last, got up from the witness stand. He went to the front door and dropped down on his knees in front of Scooty’s cage.
    Ralphie looked over Junior’s head at Maggie. Her eyes were misty. Ralphie didn’t like it when her eyes were filled with tears, but when her eyes were misty … well, it made him feel misty too.
    Ralphie discovered that his favorite thing in the world was to be looked at with misty eyes.
    Ralphie blinked.
    These were not, as he had thought, the misty eyes of a person overcome by love and emotion. This mist was not an acknowledgment of his brilliance. This was not the mist that turned a man to mist too.
    This mist chilled him to the bone, like a fog blown in from a wintry ocean. Ralphie shivered.
    And then Maggie Blossom said words terrible enough to go with the mist, the worst words Ralphie had ever heard in his life.
    â€œRalphie?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œRalphie, I hate you with all my heart!”
    Junior was getting ready to beat up on Vern. His mom and Pap had given him permission. At first Junior had wanted to kill Vern and Michael, too, but Pap had stepped in.
    â€œNow, now, you don’t want to kill anybody.”
    â€œI do too!”
    â€œYou know what my daddy used to do when my brothers and I were boys?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI didn’t tell you about that?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWell, if one brother was in the wrong, like Vern—Vern, you were in the wrong here. It was wrong to hide Scooty and make Junior think he was dead—well, when one of us was in the wrong, my daddy would take the heel of his shoe and he’d draw a big circle.”
    As he spoke, Pap moved around the yard, scratching a circle into the dirt with his heel.
    â€œThen the brother who had done wrong would have to get in the circle.”
    Pap nodded to Vern, and Vern, shoulders sagging, stepped inside.
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œThen the other brother—that’s you, Junior—the other brother would get in the circle, too, and start fighting. My daddy would time off three minutes on his pocket watch, like I’m