Escape to the World's Fair Read Online Free Page B

“We’ll go to the Fair!”

5
    A TICKET TO ST. LOUIS
    A nd just like that, they were back on the road in the motorcar. The noise and jostle of the engine seemed to match Frances’s anxious, pounding heartbeat.
What are we doing?
she thought.
And why did Alexander leave it up to
me
?
    â€œExcellent!” Zogby had exclaimed when Jack had told him that they’d travel to the Fair in his place. Then he’d reached into his jacket and pulled out a wad of bills. The sight of all that money had made Frances catch her breath. For a moment, all five of them had been too stunned to move as Zogby held out the cash. Finally Alexander had reached out and taken it.
    â€œThis is for your fare to St. Louis,” Zogby had explained. Then he’d counted out several half-dollar coins. “And these,” he had said, dropping the coins into Alexander’s hand, “are to get into the Fair. I believe admission is fifty cents a person.”
    â€œThank you, sir,” Alexander had managed to say.
    At that, Zogby had cranked the engine again for the drive to Hannibal. It was just a couple of miles away, and from there the five of them would journey on to St. Louis.
    Now the car was slowing down; they’d passed a sign that said HANN IBAL TOWN LIMITS.
    Zogby pulled over and stopped the car on a quiet street at what appeared to be the edge of town. He pointed to an old clapboard hotel on the corner. “Take a right at the Sawyer Inn and then head down the hill until the street ends. You’ll see the ticket office right there.”
    This is all happening so fast,
Frances thought as she and her friends climbed out of the car. “Wait, Mr. Zogby,” she said, trying to keep her voice from sounding too anxious. “Aren’t we supposed to meet someone at the Fair? To give them that gold medal for you?” She pulled out her
Third Eclectic Reader
from her jacket pocket and fished her pencil out of her stocking. “Can you write down their name in here?” she asked, handing him her book.
    Zogby nodded and took the pencil. It took a moment for him to find a blank spot—Frances used all the empty spots inside her old schoolbook to make notes of anything she wanted to remember—but then he scrawled something in the corner of the back flyleaf. He gave the book and pencil back to Frances. She was just about to look inside when he snapped his fingers.
    â€œWhy, I almost forgot the most important thing!” he said. “Of course I must give you
this
!”
    Zogby drew the medallion from his pocket and unwrapped it. He rubbed the edge with his thumb and gathered up the chain. Just before he handed it over, he hesitated briefly; in those few moments Frances thought he looked a little sad, or even sorry about something. But then he wrapped the handkerchief around the medallion and pressed it into Jack’s hand.
    â€œBe careful with it,” he said.
    Jack nodded and tucked the medallion into his hip pocket. Eli, standing right next to him, looked a little relieved when the medallion was put away.
    Zogby checked his watch and looked around. “I should really be going. They won’t begin boarding for St. Louis for another hour, so you needn’t hurry.”
    But hurrying seemed to be exactly what Zogby himself was doing. He rushed around the side of the motorcar to work the engine crank. “You kids be careful, too,” he called.
    What does
that
mean?
Frances thought. By then the car’s motor had started up and Zogby was climbing back into the car.
    Frances suddenly remembered the book in her hand. She opened it to see what Zogby had written. There it was, in the corner—a name:
Mr. C. McGee.
    â€œWait!” Frances called, but she had to raise her voice over the noise of the engine. “WAIT!”
    â€œWHAT?” Zogby called back.
    â€œWHERE CAN WE FIND MR. McGEE AT THE FAIR?”
    Zogby shook his head.