The Case Of The Mysterious Handprints - Plot & Excerpts
“Let’s go to the beach,” Sally suggested. “No one else will be there.” Sally was wrong. Merwin Elkberry was there. Merwin, a sixth-grader, never had to be told to go fly a kite. At the slightest hint of a breeze, he was out scraping the sky with a kite or two. When the detectives spied him, Merwin was kiting—and fishing. He was using a yellow kite to lift his surf-casting line behind the breakers. “Any luck?” Encyclopedia asked. “Two nibbles,” Merwin answered, as happy as if he’d caught a school of kingfish. “Gosh, Merwin,” Sally said. “You’ve got your world on a string.” “There’s nothing like kiting,” Merwin replied. “I brought along my fighter just in case the fish went to the movies. Here, hold this and I’ll show you.” He handed Sally his fishing pole. From a sack on the sand beside him, he withdrew a strange red kite. “It’s an Indian fighting kite,” he said. “You can’t really call kite flying the national sport of India, but everyone does it.”
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