Read Voices at Whisper Bend for Free Online

seats without noise. It sounded like Mrs. Alexander’s news was worse than unfinished fractions.
    â€œSometime between Friday afternoon and this morning,” Mrs. Alexander said, “a person or persons unknown entered the school cellar.”
    No, Charlotte thought. Please no.
    â€œHe, she, or they removed all the metal that this class has collected. From what we can gather, it might be worth a pretty penny if someone tried to sell it,” Mrs. Alexander went on. “The principal informed the mill, and today’s delivery has been canceled.”
    â€œWow!” “That stinks!” “Doggone!” “No fair!” Voices bubbled up around her, but Charlotte couldn’t say a word. Who could have done such a thing?
    She looked around. She liked most everybody in her class. Oh sure, Sophie Jaworski could be a pill, but she wouldn’t have done this. She’d have gotten too dirty.
    Charlotte had watched what Sophie brought in for the drive. One or two tin cans each day, scrubbed as clean as Ma’s dishes. And everybody else had worked hard. The Cussick twins had brought in nearly as much scrap as she and Betsy had. Some boys who lived near Braddock Avenue had even collected from the stores. It couldn’t be somebody in the class.
    Then her eyes fixed on Paul Rossi. His dark hair was overgrown as usual, and he brushed it back from his eyes in a way that looked sneaky to Charlotte. That boy was always getting in trouble. Look at those stories he brought in from the newspapers. He loved crimes and criminals. And stealing was a crime.
    â€œClass, class, please. Settle down.” Mrs. Alexander blinked the lights and the room grew quiet. “I’m glad to see that you’re all as distressed as I am. This is a deplorable incident, and we will discover the culprit. In the meantime, we need to make a decision—shall we discontinue our scrap drive until the thief is found, or shall we redouble our efforts and make sure to improve our security?”
    â€œKeep going, keep going.” The class burst into noise again.
    Mrs. Alexander raised her hands. “We’ll take a vote. All in favor of continuing to collect metal, please raise your hands.”
    Every hand shot in the air. Charlotte had never been prouder of her friends.
    At recess, even though it was a sunny day and made for games, most kids stood around in clumps. Charlotte and Betsy stood close to the low red-brick wall that enclosed the school yard, whispering. “I feel so bad,” Betsy said. “We’ll never find as much junk as we did at Mrs. Dubner’s.”
    Before Charlotte could answer, a commotion across the school yard caught her attention. She folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “Look at him, look at that Paul Rossi.”
    He stood on the seesaw, right in the middle, with his arms flung out. He shifted from side to side, banging the wooden ends down.
    â€œShowing off as usual,” Betsy said. “Don’t bother with him.”
    â€œBut don’t you see, Bets? Everybody else is talking about the theft. Paul’s acting like nothing happened. That’s suspicious.”
    â€œNo, that’s Paul. He’s a goofball. Hey, Charlotte, do you have to fix dinner for your ma today, or can we start cleaning out my attic for scrap?” Betsy pointed across the yard to the cellar door. “I’d like to refill that room with metal as quick as we can.”
    â€œSure, we can work this afternoon. Ma already fixed a casserole. But Bets, I don’t just want to collect more metal. I want to find the scrap we already collected and get it back.”
    â€œYou think we could find it?”
    â€œI don’t know. I’m just so mad! I hate what’s happened. Stealing’s bad enough. But stealing from the war is like treason. ” Her fingers curled into a fist and she smacked it against the rough red bricks. “I’d like to find the