The Luck of the Buttons (15 page)

Mr. Millhouse nodded grimly. “Yes, the Thompson twins. I was informed that they had withdrawn a large amount of cash. Well.”

“I’ll ring Officer Miller,” said mayor Corbett.

“He and his men are with Mr. Door,” said Mr. Millhouse.

Father Button spoke up then. “Do you have your car, Mr. Millhouse? We should just go over there.”

Tugs grabbed the clipping off mayor Corbett’s desk as they all hurried out to the street.

“What on earth?” Mr. Millhouse said.

They slowed to a stop near the library.

“Well, I never,” said Mr. Button, sitting between Mr. Millhouse and the mayor.

“What? What?” said Aggie and Tugs from the backseat.

They piled out of the car.

Eldora and Elmira sat primly in their chairs on the porch, surrounded by Rowdies sitting on the steps and the porch rail, leaning against the house, all munching on cookies. Miss Lucy was there, too.

“It’s our girl!” said Elmira, seeing Tugs. “I can tell by that wide hair.”

“She brought a posse with her this time. Come join the party!” said Eldora.

“Meet our new friends,” said Elmira. “These fellows rescued our Leopold! He’d gotten off to heaven knows where this morning and we were bereft.”

“BeREFT!” Eldora echoed.

“We were inside making jam . . .”

“Truth be told, we were eating jam with a spoon . . .”

“Yes, well. We didn’t hear a knock at the door, but we turned around and there were these two boys just alike. Look at them!” Elmira patted Finn’s and Frankie’s cheeks.

“They are so alike!” said Elmira. “Just like us. And so I said, ‘Don’t know how you got in here, but how about some jam?’”

“And the one said — I’ll never forget, it was the sweetest thing — he said, ‘We prefer cookies.’” The sisters laughed so hard, they had to pull out their hankies and dab at their eyes.

“We prefer cookies,”
repeated Elmira. “Doesn’t that just beat all? Of course they prefer cookies. They’re growing boys. So we opened up our cookie jar.”

“We always keep it stocked.”

“And that’s when their friends came in, Leopold marching right behind them.”

“Doesn’t it beat all?”

mayor Corbett jumped in then. “I don’t understand. Tugs seemed to think . . .” But Miss Lucy interrupted him, holding up her hand.

“mayor. I happened to look out the reference materials window this afternoon and saw this . . . ah . . . group of young people going to
visit
the Misses Thompson. I intercepted them for a short chat.” She gave the Rowdies a knowing look. “And it turns out they were just going to lead Leopold home. Right, boys? And Bess?”

They all nodded, a bit sheepishly.

“They have agreed to keep an eye out for Leopold from now on, and for the Thompson twins. In fact, they will be back next week to sweep their walk and help with their garden. Won’t you, boys? And Bess?”

“Well, then,” said Father Button. “I guess we could be moseying along now.”

“Oh, don’t go yet!” said Elmira. “The party’s just getting good.”

“And I want to know what happened to your crook, Tugs! Where’s your dashing crook What’s-His-Name?” said Eldora.

“Mr. Moore,” said Elmira. “Also known as Dapper Jack, wasn’t that it?”

“Crook?” said Miss Lucy. “Mr. Moore? Dapper . . .”

Tugs looked at her father.

“Go on up to the porch, Tugs. Tell everyone the story.”

Tugs threaded her way up the steps past Luther Tingvold and Walter Williams.

“Right here, Tugs,” said Miss Lucy, motioning for Tugs to stand in front of the railing. Tugs looked out at the yard, where a small crowd had spilled out of the library, joining the Millhouses, her father, and mayor Corbett. Mary Louise and her mother came out of their house to see what the commotion was all about.

Tugs felt shy, but there was her father, and Aggie Millhouse, smiling up at her. She wished Ned were there, too.

“It started when Mr. Moore didn’t know our car was out of gas,” said Tugs. She paused to compose the sequence of events in her head. “And then he didn’t know the way downtown or where his office was. Now that I think about it, he didn’t answer to his name when I called out to him, either. He was too nice on the outside, but not at all nice when adults weren’t around. I don’t know. Something didn’t feel right. So I was suspicious of him. And he kept taking money from people. It seemed like a lot of money.

“Then Miss Thompson and Miss Thompson told me about their pictures being in the old newspaper.”

“That’s us!” squealed Elmira.

“Shhh,” said Eldora.

“So I went to the library to look at old newspapers, and I found this article and photograph.” Tugs dug in her pocket and pulled out the clipping, folded into a small square. She looked at Miss Lucy. “Sorry, Miss Lucy. I took it out of the paper. Here.” Tugs handed it to Miss Lucy.

“Not to worry,” said Miss Lucy, studying the photo closely.

“It’s about a man named Dapper Jack Door. That’s who Harvey Moore is. He goes to towns like ours and makes up stories that make people want to give him money. Then he leaves town with their money, and they don’t get anything in return. But Officer Miller has him now, and everyone’s money is at the Dostals’. You’ll get it back.”

“My stars,” exclaimed Miss Lucy. “She’s right. The likeness in this picture is uncanny. Tugs! If you hadn’t noticed this and acted on your suspicions, I just don’t know where we’d be.” Miss Lucy gave Tugs a hug and addressed the gathering.

“Citizens of Goodhue,” she said, “check your clothing. Is anyone wearing a button? Do you know what the meaning of
button
is? It’s a fastener, of course. We use ordinary buttons every day.

“But
button
also means ‘to bring to a successful conclusion.’ And Tugs Button defined that word for us today. I shudder to think! We thought we were going to get a newspaper here. The
Goodhue Progress.
Many of us, myself included, dipped into our resources to make it happen. But all this time a con artist was hoodwinking us. My stars.

“Swindling is not progress. If it weren’t for you, Tugs, that scoundrel would have been on his way out of town with our money.

“Some people have a lucky rabbit’s foot, or a lucky coin, but here in Goodhue, we have a lucky Button. Tugs Button. Let’s hear it for Tugs!”

Everyone clapped. Even the Rowdies and Mary Louise. The Thompson twins loudest of all.

Tugs waved shyly, then ducked off the porch to stand next to Aggie.

“We should probably go,” she said to her father. “Want to come over, Aggie?”

“Sure,” she said.

The crowd started to break up. People stopped and patted Tugs on the back and shook her hand as they walked by.

“Wait!” hollered Elmira from the porch.

“Hold up!” Eldora chimed in. The sisters helped each other down the steps and hurried toward Tugs. “Here,” they said. “We want you to have this.” They each shoved a blue Brownie camera at Tugs.

“I couldn’t,” said Tugs.

“You can!” they said.

“All right,” Tugs agreed. “But just one.” She took one of the perfect undented blue Brownies and handed back the other.

“Then your sister can have the other,” said Eldora, handing a camera to Aggie.

“We aren’t sisters,” said Tugs and Aggie, laughing.

“Good as,” said Elmira. “Take it anyhow. You’ll have more fun together.”

“Thank you,” said Tugs. “We’ll take pictures for you.”

“I think Tugs has mine,” said Eldora to Elmira.

“I’m quite sure she’s got mine,” said Elmira, and they teetered back to the porch, where Leopold was just slipping out from between the rails.

I am grateful to those who helped me raise this book:

Editor Deborah Noyes Wayshak asked, believed, propelled.

Dan Baldwin made lightning strike during every brainstorm, and Leigh Brown Perkins’s keen insight was my flashlight through draft after draft.

A picnic on the Iowa prairie introduced me to Tugs Button and an extraordinary group of bookmakers, the Tall Grass Writers, whose joyful spirit keeps me writing: Michelle Edwards, Carol Gorman, Jacqueline Briggs Martin, and Claudia McGehee.

My mother ignited my passion for books and writing by placing a notebook in my one hand and a library card in the other. That library card led me to my own Miss Lucy, Lucy Selander at the Roosevelt branch of the Minneapolis Public Library. Her power to divine the right book for the right moment enchanted my childhood.

Anne Ylvisaker
is the author of
Dear Papa,
which
Booklist
named a Top Ten First Novel for Youth, and
Little Klein,
a Book Sense Children’s Pick and winner of numerous awards, including the Midwest Booksellers’ Choice Award.

About
The Luck of the Buttons,
she says, “I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of the hidden narrator in a photograph, the person behind the lens. The chicken picture shown on the cover of this book has long been a favorite of mine, and one day as I tried to imagine the circumstances of its creation, Tugs Button appeared, eager to tell her family’s story.” Formerly of Iowa and Minnesota, Anne Ylvisaker now lives in California with her family.