When Nan yelled, her voice warbled. Uncle Dannell’s voice was a low rumble. And Mother sounded like a cat with its tail caught in a door. Elsie couldn’t make sense of any of it. All she could hear were lots of words all jumbled together. Scoop broke into a trot. “Let’s check this out.” “Wait up.” Elsie grabbed his sleeve. The words were just starting to make sense. “Big chancer.” Nan’s voice. “Can’t be trusted farther than I can throw you.” Nan again. “Oh, Dannell. Really!” It was Mother’s voice this time. “Will you let me speak?” Uncle Dannell suddenly shouted. “That’s some argy-bargy,” said Scoop, ready to turn onto her street. He was just curious, Elsie told herself. Like any top-notch news reporter would be. But you kept family business to yourself, Mother always said. And this sounded like family business, all right. “Better not,” she told him. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the corner, like we agreed.” “You sure? Could be important.”
