Sydney and the Wisconsin Whispering Woods Read Online Free Page A

up bright and early.”
    “Hi,” said Sydney. “I have a question. Where do I sign up for the fishing contest?”
    “Which one?” Mrs. Miller asked. She opened a bakery box filled with donuts and offered them to the girls.
    “No thanks,” Sydney said as Alexis grabbed a crème-filled, chocolate-covered long boy. “There’s more than one contest?”
    Alexis kept busy studying a map of the lake hanging on the wall.
    “There’s always fishing contests on North Twin Lake,” said Mrs. Miller. “Here’s a list of our current ones.” She handed Sydney a flyer.
    FISHING CONTESTS
    A UGUST 2 THROUGH 9
O FF S HORE: B IGGEST F ISH—PRIZE $200 AND 50% O FF
T AXIDERMIST S ERVICES AT S CALE AND H IDE T axidermy
in E AGLE R IVER
D OCKSIDE: B IGGEST F ISH—PRIZE: $100 AND
F REE A LL-YOU-CAN-EAT F ISH F RY AT
C LIFF’S B OATHOUSE C AFé IN C ONOVER
    “The kid in Cabin Two, Duncan,” said Sydney. “Which contest did he sign up for?”
    “He probably signed up for the dockside contest,” Mrs. Miller answered. “Children under 13 can only compete in offshore if they’re with an adult.”
    Alexis walked to the desk and helped herself to another chocolate-covered donut.
    “Okay, I want to sign up for dockside,” said Sydney. “And Alexis does, too.”
    “I do?” said Alex, licking chocolate frosting from her fingers.
    Mrs. Miller smiled. “Not a fisherman, are you?” she asked. “I’ve fished a little,” said Alexis, “but I’ve never fished in a contest.”
    “Well, you girls go up there to the end of the drive. Then you turn left and walk down the road a bit. You’ll see Tompkins’ Ice Cream Shop. Go inside there, and that’s where you sign up. You sure you don’t want a donut?” Mrs. Miller slid the box toward Sydney.
    “No thank you,” Sydney said again. “Come on, Alex. Let’s go sign up.”
    The girls got Biscuit from the cabin, and Alexis made sure his leash was firmly fastened to his collar. Then the three of them headed up the drive toward the road.
    Soon they came to a gas station and a row of quaint little shops. Tompkins’ Ice Cream was the first two-story building on the left. A red-striped awning hung over the wide front window, and a sign in the window said:
    C OFFEE , R EGULAR AND S PECIALTY
M UFFINS , S CONES, AND O THER S WEETS
I CE C REAM AND F REE I NTERNET A CCESS
O PEN E VERY D AY 8 TO 8
    The girls opened the door and went inside.
    Four small tables sat in the middle of the shop, and three huge, wooden booths lined one wall. The opposite wall had an old-fashioned soda fountain with a lunch counter and tall stools with round, red seats. The tables and booths were empty. Several men sat at the counter drinking hot coffee out of thick, black mugs.
    “No dogs allowed,” said a man wearing a white apron. He stood behind the counter writing the daily specials on a blackboard. “You can tie it to the hitch outside the front door.”
    Biscuit cocked his head and raised one paw to beg. Then he raced toward the man, pulling the leash out of Sydney’s hand. He stood up with his paws against the man’s knees and wagged his tail.
    “There, there, now,” the man said, patting Biscuit’s head. “I have to kick you out, buddy—the health inspector says so.”
    Sydney picked up the end of Biscuit’s leash and apologized. “Are you the manager?” she said as Alexis took Biscuit outside.
    “I own the place,” the man said.
    “Where do we sign up for the fishing contest—the one on the docks?”
    “Right here.” The man looked past Sydney. “Are you signing up for your dad, or your brother, or someone else?”
    “I’m signing up for me!” Sydney said as Alexis came back into the shop.
    A man at the counter chuckled. “Girls don’t fish,” he said.
    Sydney felt the blood rush to her face. “We do, too,” she told him. “Where’s the sign-up sheet?”
    The owner walked to the end of the counter and came back with some papers attached to a clipboard. “Here