Jessie couldn’t help laughing. “There might really be a troll under a bridge!” She couldn’t get over it. The four children were up bright and early the next morning. They were talking about the mystery while they made breakfast. Benny placed napkins around the table. “I wonder what message it’s guarding.” “We’ll find out soon,” said Henry, who was standing at the stove. “We’ll head over to the bridge after we eat.” “I wish Grandfather had joined us for breakfast,” said Violet, when they sat down at the table. “He hasn’t had a chance to see the photographs yet.” She reached for the envelope of photos on the table. “There was one that turned out especially well.” “You mean the one of the bald eagle?” asked Henry, swallowing a mouthful of eggs. “That was my favorite.” Violet shook her head. “No, I mean the one with Benny sleeping on the ferry.” She looked through the envelope. “Here it is.” She held it out to Henry. “Benny looks so cute with his head on Grandfather’s lap.”
