medallion, I tell you.â He pulled it out of his pocket and held it up in the light. âI didnât have a chance to tell anyone yet, but when we were over by the orange crates I saw something carved into the wood on a trunk over there.â
He found the symbols on the medallionâthe one that looked like a loop with loose ends, and the one like a letter
M
with an arrowâand pointed them out to Frances. âSee these? Somebody scratched those into the wood! I donât know what it means but it canât be coincidence, you know?â
Frances just squinted at him.
Jack sighedâof course she wouldnât understand.
He
didnât understand what the symbols meant either. He simply had a feeling that the medallion had come their way for a reason, and the feeling had gotten stronger once heâd seen the symbols scratched into the trunk. But he couldnât tell Frances any of this. Sheâd only laugh and say it was all âhocus-pocus stuff.â
So instead he said, âLook. I donât care what you think. Going after the reward for the medallion is the only choice we have! Itâs the only way we can keep Wanderville going and get us money for California.â
âOh, what do
you
care?â Frances sputtered back. â
Youâre
the one whoâs planning on going back to New York!â
âIâm
not
planning! That was just an idea!â Jack protested. That wasnât quite trueâhe really had been thinking a lot lately about going back to New Yorkâbut he hadnât decided anything. âHonestly, I donât know what Iâm going to do. All I know is that we have to escape
this
place first!â
âYeah, thatâs for sure,â Frances muttered. She closed her book and crawled over to sleep near Harold. âMaybe that magic medallion of yours will tell you how. Good-night, Jack.â
â¢Â â¢Â â¢
Frances woke to the sound of the
Addie Dauphin
âs bells clanging. She could glimpse a bit of blue sky and morning daylight over the stacks of cargo that surrounded the pen.
Everyone else was awake by nowâthough Frances wondered if Alexander and the older boys had even slept, since they were still yammering on, only now Jack and Eli had joined them and they were talking about escape plans.
âWhat if we jammed something in that big paddle wheel?â Chicks was saying. âWould that stop the boat?â
Oh, brother,
Frances thought. She was glad the older boys were going to escape with them, but she wondered if any of them were really smart enough to figure out how. She listened until Harold tugged her sleeve.
âFrannie, my nose isnât leaking anymore!â
Frances smiled and began to pick bits of straw out of her little brotherâs hair. âThe oranges must have helped cure your cold.â
âI wish we could have more,â Harold whispered. âIâm hungry.â
But they hardly needed to wonder about food, because a few minutes later they heard the sound of boots in the corridor outside the pen, and one of the deckhands appeared with a big pot and two wooden spoons.
âThe cook saved some mush for you brats,â he muttered. He tried to shove the pot between the bars of the pen, but it was too wide. Grumbling complaints under his breath, he unlocked the tall gate, stepped inside, and set the pot down with a
thunk.
Everyone was silent for a moment.
âEr . . . thank you,â Alexander said.
âTwo hours âtil we dock in St. Louis,â the deckhand told them. âThen weâll come back down and take you to the factory.â He tossed out a rag from his pocket. âMake sure you clean that pot real good when youâre done with it.â
Dutch nodded. âGot it.â
âAnd youâre not getting out of this pen until we come get you, you hear? Especially
you
.â The deckhand turned to Eli, who was now standing right by
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley