“Gosh, we sure were lucky to run into that kindly old-timer back there at the junkyard who told us about this shortcut onto the Featherton property, huh gang?”, queried Summer Salt, girl detective, as she and her friends carefully made their way down the overgrown path through the fog-covered cemetery.
“Did it strike you as odd that he was wearing a tuxedo, not unlike notorious meanie The Crown Prince, who’s rumored to be in the area, and quite possibly at the bottom of these recent disappearances, Summer?”, shot back her friend, junior-sleuther Jamie.
“Sheer coincidence, I’d wager. He’s likely just trying to go upscale with his junkyard to attract a higher clientele. Remember Jamie: as a junior-sleuther, it’s important not to jump to every wild conclusion that comes to mind. Now, somewhere up ahead we should be able to spot that sign leading into the Secret Entrance that the old man mentioned…”.
Suddenly, from out of the mist behind the kids, a scream, “EEEEEK!”.
“That sounded like Mouse!”, said Summer, “How many times must I tell her to stay home when we go out junior-sleuthing! You two go on ahead while I backtrack and find my little brat of a sister.”
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