Read The Mystery of the Soccer Snitch Online

Authors: Gertrude Chandler Warner

The Mystery of the Soccer Snitch (2 page)

T
HE
G
AME
S
TORE
M
YSTERY

T
HE
M
YSTERY OF THE
O
RPHAN
T
RAIN

T
HE
V
ANISHING
P
ASSENGER

T
HE
G
IANT
Y
O
-Y
O
M
YSTERY

T
HE
C
REATURE IN
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GOPOGO
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AKE

T
HE
R
OCK ‘N'
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OLL
M
YSTERY

T
HE
S
ECRET OF THE
M
ASK

T
HE
S
EATTLE
P
UZZLE

T
HE
G
HOST IN THE
F
IRST
R
OW

T
HE
B
OX
T
HAT
W
ATCH
F
OUND

A H
ORSE
N
AMED
D
RAGON

T
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REAT
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ETECTIVE
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ACE

T
HE
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HOST AT THE
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RIVE
-I
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M
OVIE

T
HE
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YSTERY OF THE
T
RAVELING
T
OMATOES

T
HE
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PY
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AME

T
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D
OG
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ONE
M
YSTERY

T
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V
AMPIRE
M
YSTERY

S
UPERSTAR
W
ATCH

T
HE
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PY IN THE
B
LEACHERS

T
HE
A
MAZING
M
YSTERY
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HOW

T
HE
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LUE IN THE
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ECYCLING
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IN

M
ONKEY
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ROUBLE

T
HE
Z
OMBIE
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ROJECT

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G
REAT
T
URKEY
H
EIST

T
HE
G
ARDEN
T
HIEF

T
HE
B
OARDWALK
M
YSTERY

T
HE
M
YSTERY OF THE
F
ALLEN
T
REASURE

T
HE
R
ETURN OF THE
G
RAVEYARD
G
HOST

T
HE
M
YSTERY OF THE
S
TOLEN
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NOWBOARD

T
HE
M
YSTERY OF THE
W
ILD
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EST
B
ANDIT

T
HE
M
YSTERY OF THE
G
RINNING
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ARGOYLE

The Mystery of the Soccer Snitch

Created by Gertrude Chandler Warner

ALBERT WHITMAN & COMPANY

Chicago, Illinois

Contents

1. The Big Day Arrives

2. A Horrible Letter

3. A Not-Quite-So-Horrible Letter

4. Captain of the Team

5. Danielle Does Something Mean

6. A Friend in the Woods

7. The Mystery of the Golf Balls

8. The Clue of the Broken Glass

9. A Confession

10. Prime Time Soccer

CHAPTER
1

The Big Day Arrives

“Benny, come on! Hurry!” called Jessie. “The soccer fest starts soon!”

Twelve-year old Jessie was wearing red, her team color.

Benny, who was six and wearing blue, trotted down the stairs. “Will there be lots of food at the soccer feast?”

“Not a soccer feast, silly” said Jessie. “A soccer fest!”

“‘Fest' means ‘festival,'” said Henry, the oldest. “I looked it up.” Henry was fourteen and was always looking things up in the dictionary on his new tablet.

“Shouldn't there be food at a festival, then?” Benny asked. “I think there should at least be peanuts and hot dogs and lemonade.”

“We had breakfast a half hour ago!” Jessie said. “You ate all those pancakes! You can't be hungry yet.”

“I'm not hungry yet,” Benny said. “I just think there should be food!”

“The winners get coupons for a free cone at Igloo Ice Cream,” Jessie said.

“I sure hope my team wins!” Benny shouted. He didn't see Jessie and Henry exchange smiles. What Jessie and Henry knew—but Benny didn't—was that all the children who participated would get a free cone at Igloo Ice Cream.

“Warm ups start soon,” Henry said. “We should go.”

“This is going to be fun!” Benny said.

“It sure will,” Henry said. He was wearing the yellow and black of a referee. All week he'd been studying the referee's manual Coach Olson had given him. The older boys and girls were assistant coaches and referees.

“Does everyone have their cleats and shin guards?” Henry asked.

“I packed everyone's equipment and an extra ball in this bag,” Jessie said. She always brought extra equipment just in case someone needed it.

“Yay!” shouted Benny. “Let's go! Coach Olson said we are all marching in a big parade before the games, just like at the big tournament in Brazil!”

“At the real tournament it's called the opening ceremony,” said Henry. “I think in Brazil there will be fireworks.”

“I wish we could go to the big tournament!” said Benny. “Kayla is so lucky!”

A few weeks earlier, the town of Greenfield erupted with excitement when the newspaper ran a front-page story with the headline, “Greenfield Girl Chosen as International Child Mascot!” Kayla's parents and Coach Olson quickly organized a soccer fest so everyone could get into the spirit of the upcoming international tournament. The soccer fest would last one day—an opening parade followed by a series of games, ending with an award ceremony—but the children had been practicing for the games almost each day for the past two weeks.

Now, finally, the big day was here.

“We're going to go warm up now, Grandfather!” Jessie called out.

Mr. Alden opened the door to his study. “I'll be along shortly,” he said, “before the opening parade.”

When Benny opened the front door, Watch, their dog, ran in from the kitchen. Watch panted excitedly, his toenails clipping across the floor.

“Don't worry, Watch,” Grandfather told the dog, patting his head. “I'll bring you, too. But you can't go now. The children will be warming up.”

After everyone said goodbye, Benny bounded out the door and down the steps to the street. The other three followed.

Together the children walked past clapboard houses with neat picket fences in front and carefully tended gardens. The sky was clear blue. The air smelled of freshly cut grass and flowers. It was the perfect day for a soccer fest.

Violet felt at ease, walking like this with her brothers and sister. Although they had lost their parents, they had each other, and now, of course, they had Grandfather and Watch.

After their parents died, they ran away because they were afraid of being placed in different homes. They had lived in a boxcar in the woods and entirely took care of themselves—until Grandfather found them, and they learned he was a wonderful person. With him, they could all be together.

Violet was wearing a purple jersey, purple shorts, and lavender socks. She was shy and didn't often raise her hand to speak, but when Coach Olson asked the group of ten-year-old girls what team color they wanted, Violet raised her hand and said purple. Each team also selected the name of a professional team. Violet's team decided to be the purple Wizards.

Getting into the spirit that morning, Violet even laced her cleats with purple shoelaces and tied her pigtails with purple ribbons.

Violet thought about the soccer fest, and parade—and Kayla Thompson. “I wonder if Kayla is excited about being a child mascot in Brazil,” she said.

“Kayla has to be excited!” cried Benny. “Why wouldn't she be? Isn't that the whole reason we're having a soccer fest?”

“I don't think she's excited,” Violet said. “She doesn't act excited. I understand why. She'll have to go out on the soccer field in front of millions of people.”

“I don't think she's shy,” Henry said. “She seems very comfortable playing soccer with lots of people watching her.”

“That's true,” Jessie said. “I think Kayla is just not the type to act excited.”

Jessie started to say something more about Kayla, but stopped. She had a vague feeling that Kayla wasn't a very nice person. Other girls in town openly disliked Kayla and even talked badly about her. But, Kayla's family had only recently moved to Greenfield. So nobody really knew Kayla very well. In fact, one girl, Danielle, who was clearly jealous of all the attention Kayla was getting, said Kayla wasn't really a Greenfield girl because she had only lived in the town for six months.

The Alden children arrived at the field to find it decorated with balloons and streamers. The field was large enough for three games to be played at once. Across the street by the playground was another field, also decorated. The streamers—mostly red, white and blue—flapped in the breeze. Each team had a banner with their team color, team name, and the name of each player.

“There's my team!” Benny shouted. “The Earthquakes!”

The players gathered with their teams to the side of the field and did warm-up exercises. First they practiced dribbling, then they practiced passing the ball to each other.

Toward the end of their warm-up exercises, the bleachers filled with spectators. Jessie looked over and saw Grandfather taking a seat in the bleachers. Next to him was Mrs. McGregor, his housekeeper, and several of his friends. Watch lay on the ground nearby, panting because of the heat. This time of year—late August, just after school started—always seemed like the hottest time of year.

Coach Olson blew his whistle and the teams ran to the side of the field. The high school marching band was already in formation.

Benny was jumping with excitement. All around him, small children were jumping and wiggling and good-naturedly pushing each other, eager to get started.

Jessie, watching him, smiled. Her team, all dressed in red, had chosen the name Chicago Fire.

Coach Olson blew his whistle, and the marching band marched onto the field. The drums rolled, rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat. The crowd cheered and clapped and stamped their feet. The band played “My Country ‘Tis of Thee,” a song Jessie always found stirring.

Next came the high school majorettes in their sequined uniforms twirling and tossing their batons. The batons glittered in the sun.

The first team to march onto the field was Jessie's team, the Chicago Fire. Leading the team was Kayla, dribbling a ball and performing fancy footwork. She did a fake, pretending she was going to pass the ball and instead stepping on it and pushing it behind her. Next she kicked the ball, causing it to fly straight up, then she bounced it twice on her shoulders. She stepped back and the ball landed directly at her feet and she began dribbling again.

I wish I could do that, Jessie thought.

The audience, many of whom had never seen Kayla's skills, shouted “oooh!” and “aaah!”

“She's just a show-off,” said Danielle, one of Jessie's teammates who made no secret of her dislike for Kayla.

“Shh,” whispered Jessie.

After the teams circled the field, the marching band played “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” When the last of the drums quieted, Coach Olson walked up to a small wooden platform.

He picked up his microphone. He turned it on, and it made a brief screeching sound. He cleared his throat and said, “Welcome! Welcome to the first Greenfield Soccer Fest!” His voice boomed across the field.

Everyone cheered. Jessie looked over at Grandfather and smiled. He smiled back.

“The players have been working hard,” said the coach, “practicing and preparing, getting ready for today's grand tournament. Each team will play three games—”

“Stop everything!” came a shout. Mrs. Thompson, Kayla's mother, was marching angrily toward the field, holding her cell phone. “Stop everything right now!”

Everyone fell silent. Jessie could see right away that Mrs. Thompson was angry. Her face was red, her frown deep.

“What is going on?” Coach Olson asked.

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