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Authors: Gertrude Chandler Warner

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BOOK: The Mystery of the Alligator Swamp
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“Oh!” cried Eve, jumping back and dropping a piece of chicken into the bayou.

“What are you doing here?” Rose demanded.

“Catching a ghost alligator,” said Benny. “And you’re it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Rose.

“Yes, you do,” said Jessie. “We’re talking about Marshmallow. That’s the name of your alligator, isn’t it? We heard you talking about her and we know she’s no ghost. She’s a white alligator with blue eyes — like the ones in the zoo in New Orleans.”

Rose scowled fiercely at the children without answering.

Eve’s mouth dropped open. “H-how did you know?” she stammered.

“Why don’t we go back to Billie’s,” said Henry. “We can talk about it there. And you can tell Billie what’s been going on.”

Chapter 10
An Alligator Birthday

“I don’t believe it!” Billie cried. “A white alligator? A real one?” She shook her head in amazement.

The Aldens, Billie, Rose, and Eve were sitting on the restaurant porch. Billie had put a sign on the restaurant door saying,
DINNER DELAYED. COME BACK LATER.

“But albino alligators can’t live in the wild. They get eaten almost as soon as they’re born,” said Billie.

“Marshmallow’s not an albino,” Eve explained. “She’s a … a leucistic alligator, like the ones in the zoo in New Orleans. They have blue eyes. But they can still die of sunburn. And get eaten because they aren’t camouflaged like regular alligator babies.”

“I found Marshmallow when she was just hatched,” Rose explained. “Right by a nest. She was the only one. I don’t know if the others got eaten or if she was the only white alligator. She was very small. I scooped her up in my fishing net and I fixed a shady, safe pen for her where nothing could catch and eat her, and then I raised her. She’s over four years old now and big for her age, because I’ve fed her well.”

“It’s hard to keep a secret that long,” Grandfather observed.

“I figured it out,” Eve said. “I wondered what Rose was doing with all the fish she caught. I followed her one day when she went fishing and saw her take the fish to Marshmallow’s pen and feed her.”

“And then Marshmallow got away — we caught her again, but not before someone saw her. That’s when Eve and I started telling stories about the ghost alligator,” Rose said. “We wanted to keep people away from that part of the swamp.”

“You took Gaston’s binoculars,” Benny said to Eve.

Eve nodded, then looked down. “I’m sorry I did that,” she said. “I hope Uncle Gaston won’t be too angry. But it was an emergency. Marshmallow had gotten out again and those two fishermen had seen her. We had to find her in a hurry, before someone else caught her.”

“Or she died of sunburn,” added Rose.

“It may have been Marshmallow that took a bite out of your pirogue,” Eve said. “I’m sorry about that, Billie. That was another reason we wanted to catch her as soon as we could.”

“The chicken — you used it as bait to set the trap,” said Violet.

“The chicken from my restaurant?” Billie sat up in her chair on the restaurant porch.

“Just a couple of times,” Eve said.

“The phone calls to New Orleans. Why did you call the zoo?” asked Jessie.

“How did you know?” asked Eve, startled.

“I couldn’t figure out where those calls on my bills at the phone here came from,” Billie said. She nodded at the Aldens. “That took real detective work.”

“Thank you,” said Jessie modestly. “But really, it just took a phone call. We called the number and it was the zoo.”

“I called,” confessed Eve. “The first time to ask about white alligators — that was right after I’d found out about Marshmallow but hadn’t told Rose I knew yet. The second time was right after she got away. To find out the best way to catch her.”

“Then we finally caught Marshmallow again. I thought we were safe,” said Rose. She glanced over at the Aldens. “Until you guys came up this afternoon saying you’d seen the ghost alligator.”

Henry nodded. “It was a trick. We couldn’t let Billie’s place lose any more business.”

“Didn’t you think about that?” Jessie asked. “Didn’t you care?”

Rose blushed a little. “I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted to take care of Marshmallow.”

“By feeding her and every alligator in the swamp my good chicken,” said Billie, smiling a little. She didn’t seem very upset. “A ghost alligator that’s real. Named Marshmallow. Who would have thought it? And detectives to solve the mystery, on top of that.” Billie’s smile turned into a grin. “I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present.”

“Really? You’re not mad?” asked Eve.

“How could I be? Nope, the only thing that’ll make me mad is if you don’t have fun at my birthday party this Saturday.” Billie chuckled. “Catching the ghost alligator — now, that’s a birthday gift of a story!”

Just then someone knocked on the door. Billie waved. “Gaston! Just in time for dinner. And a story. A good swamp tale, and guess what.” Billie winked at the rest of them as Gaston came in the restaurant door. “We found your binoculars, too.”

The porch of the Bait ’n Bite hummed with the noise of people eating and drinking, laughing and talking. Pirogues and ordinary boats lined the bayou out front. Cars filled the parking lot out back.

Rose and Swampwater Nelson came up to where the Aldens were sitting out on the pier. They were talking to Eve and peering, from a safe distance, into the very well-made alligator cage where Marshmallow was staying. It had mesh over the top and was locked. It was right by the pier and had a tarp over it to shield the white alligator from the sun. She was floating in it, looking as if she might be listening to what everyone was saying.

“Now that Billie has the ghost alligator where people can see her, business has been good,” said Swampwater.

“Yep,” said Eve. “I’ll miss her.”

“She’ll be happier at the zoo in New Orleans with the other alligators,” said Rose. “And now that she’s bigger, she’s too big for me to handle. But I’ll miss her, too.”

“How did anyone ever think she was a great big ghost?” Jessie wondered aloud.

“She’s big,” insisted Benny “Much bigger than me.”

“Well, I guess it depends on how you look at it,” said Violet.

She knew that to Benny, Marshmallow looked huge. But to most people, she would have seemed small. She wasn’t much more than four feet long. She had white skin with dark spots on it. Her blue eyes were startling to see, but she didn’t look at all like an enormous ghost alligator.

“Pretty smart of you kids to solve the mystery,” said Swampwater. “If you four ever need jobs in the swamp, you let me know. I believe you
might
be smart enough to learn the swamp guide business.”

Benny cried, “A swamp guide! That’s what I want to be!”

“Are you giving away my job?” said Gaston, coming down the dock to join them.

Swampwater grinned. “Nope. Not yet.”

Looking from one to the other, Jessie said, “What job?”

“Swamp Tours for the Birds,” said Eve proudly. “Uncle Gaston is going to be leading special tours for Swampwater. And I’m going to help. I’m even going to get binoculars of my own.”

Her uncle raised one eyebrow. “Which you are going to pay for out of your tour guide assistant’s salary,” he reminded her.

They smiled at each other.

“Hey, y’all. Come on up here!” called Billie.

“Let’s go,” said Henry, laughing.

Everyone was still laughing when Beau banged on a table heaped with gifts near the front of the room. “Attention, everybody. We’re going to have cake and Gram Billie is going to open her gifts — but this gift first.”

With a flourish, he pulled a chair up to the giant painting at one end of the room and took it down. He turned and handed it solemnly to … Travis!

“My first art sale,” said Beau.

Jessie poked Henry “That’s what he and Beau must have been talking about that day at the edge of the road. Travis wanted to buy the painting and Beau wasn’t sure he wanted to sell it.”

“I realized Billie wasn’t going to sell me the fishing camp — at least not yet,” said Travis. “But real estate isn’t the only thing I’m interested in. When I saw Beau’s painting, I knew I had to have it for my collection. This young man has a very promising career as an artist ahead of him.”

“But … but wait a minute!” Billie was protesting. “I love that painting!”

Everyone else was applauding. They applauded even harder as Beau stepped down, tore the brown wrapping off a large square package, and stepped up onto the chair again. He carefully hung another painting in the place of the old one.

Billie’s mouth dropped open. Cheers rang out.

It was the one that the Aldens had seen in Beau’s studio — only now it was even more beautiful.

“Oh, oh, oh!” said Billie. “That’s me! I can’t believe it!”

She grabbed her grandson and gave him a great big kiss and a hug. Blushing, Beau said, “Awww …”

“Speech, speech!” cried Swampwater, and the cheering grew louder.

Billie jumped up onto the chair where Beau had stood. She raised her glass of root beer. “This has been some birthday,” she said. “A beautiful work of art by my grandson. Ghost alligators that are real. Old friends and new ones — who happen to be very fine detectives.” Billie smiled over at the Aldens. “All I can say is, I hope everyone lives long enough to have such a wonderful, amazing birthday!”

Beau came out of the kitchen as Billie got down from the chair amid cheers and laughter. Everyone began to sing “Happy Birthday.” The cake was ablaze with candles.

“Look!” said Benny. “Look! It’s the ghost alligator! I mean, it’s Marshmallow! Look!”

Benny was right. In the middle of the enormous birthday cake, surrounded by sugar roses and candles, was a white marzipan alligator with blue eyes — and a great big alligator smile.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2002 by Albert Whitman & Company

Published by Albert Whitman & Company

250 South Northwest Highway, Suite 320

Park Ridge, Illinois 60068

www.albertwhitman.com

Distributed by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com

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