Backyard Bandit Mystery Read Online Free

missing sale items.
    â€œI bought two things,” Granny said. She held up two fingers. “Nothing else.”
    Stacy didn’t need to be told what they were.
    â€œAre we ready for dessert?” her mother called.
    Stacy hurried back to the kitchen. She picked up the wall phone. “First, I have to call Dunkum,” she said. “It’s very important.”
    Grandpa chuckled. “What’s more important than strawberry shortcake?” he teased.
    â€œA backyard bandit,” Stacy said. “Ithink someone’s stealing our sale stuff.”
    Grandpa scratched his head. “What a horrible thing. Can’t kids have any fun these days?”
    â€œI’m gonna find out what happened,” Stacy told him.
    He got up and peered out the back door. “Who’d want to do such a thing?”
    â€œThat’s what I wanna know,” Stacy said.
    She punched the phone numbers.
    Dunkum answered. “Hello?”
    â€œHi, it’s Stacy. I think someone’s ripping us off!” She explained about the missing things.
    â€œMaybe you should do some spying,” he suggested. “Maybe the thief will come back.”
    â€œGood idea!” she said. “I’ll spy tonight . . . after dark.”
    â€œBe careful,” Dunkum warned.
    â€œI will,” she said. “I promise.”
    Stacy hung up and ate her dessert.

    Then she headed outside.
    But she could only think of one thing. The yellow beanbag angel. A gift from her very best friend.

EIGHT
    The moon was full. Too bright for spying.
    Stacy crept outside anyway.
    She found an empty trash can. But it was too far from the sale table. So she dragged it across the backyard.
    She thought, good idea. And crawled inside the smelly garbage can.
    For a few minutes, she pinched her nose shut. But breathing through her mouth was horrible.
    Who knows what might fly in! she thought.
    Wicked worms and bugs and things. All of them might be crawling inside the trash can.
    Icksville! Stacy shivered.
    She let her nose do the breathing.
    But . . .
    Pee-uu-wee! What a sick smell.
    Quickly, she lifted the lid for some fresh air.
    She saw two shadows. Kid-sized ones.
    Who were they?
    Stacy inched the lid off the trash can. She leaned forward and listened.
    The shadows were whispering.
    Were they inspecting the sale stuff? Plotting to steal?
    She perked up her ears. The voices were familiar.
    Dee Dee and Eric! And they were discussing something.
    Stacy listened hard. She leaned and watched.
    â€œI’ll trade my parrot for your leathercoin case,” a voice said.
    It was a tiny voice. A Dee Dee Winters voice!
    Had Stacy heard right? Did Dee Dee want to trade something?
    Stacy kept listening. She couldn’t believe her ears.
    Now the boy shadow was talking. Sounded like Eric Hagel.
    Stacy couldn’t hear everything he was saying. But it was about Dee Dee’s stuffed animal. Her parrot—all blue, green, and orange.
    What’s going on? Stacy wondered.
    She watched closely.
    Now Dee Dee was holding her cat up to the table. “Did ya ever see such a cool backyard sale?” she said.
    Mew, replied Mister Whiskers.
    Dee Dee giggled. “You know a good sale when ya see it,” she said.
    Eric laughed. He held up his hamster. “Fran the Ham says there oughta be freelettuce to munch.” He made his voice sound twittery. Like a hamster.
    Dee Dee and Eric went on and on. They were talking back and forth, pretending.
    At last, Eric spoke in his regular voice. “Won’t our flags look great for Flag Day?” he said.
    â€œStacy’s idea was real cool,” Dee Dee answered.
    Stacy felt a kink in her leg. She tried to stretch inside the trash can.
    I have to get out of here, she decided.
    But . . .
    She leaned too hard.
    Bang-a clank!
    The trash can fell over, and Stacy tumbled out.
    Eric and Dee Dee screamed and ran away.
    Stacy crawled out of the trash can. “So much for spying,”