Philip and the Thief (9781619500648) by John (COR) Paulits

Chapter One
     
    “ Philip the Great,” shouted Philip
Felton as he bounced noisily down the stairs from his bedroom to
the living room, purple Jolly Rancher in hand.
    “ Philip, you’re so humble,” said his
father, looking up from the sofa, where he lay reading the Saturday
newspaper.
    “ Philip, don’t talk like that,” said
his mother as she passed through the living room, carrying Philip’s
little sister Becky on her way upstairs. “It sounds very impolite.
If anybody heard you . . . and candy again?”
    His mother’s voice trailed away as Philip
watched her climb the steps. He walked over to his father. “That’s
not what I meant. I didn’t mean great like better than everybody,
Dad.”
    “ Well, you are great, Flipper. Even if
your tongue is purple.” He reached over and messed Philip’s
hair.
    “ I meant like Nate the Great,” said
Philip. “He solves the neighborhood’s mysteries. You read me a
couple of the books.”
    “ I know Nate the Great well,” said Mr.
Felton. “He’s a fine boy. Since you’re using his name, you better
have solved a mystery or two to back it up.”
    “ I did!” exclaimed Philip. “Remember
last night when Emery came over?”
    Emery Wyatt was Philip’s best friend, except
for when they argued. He sat across from Philip in Mr. Ware’s
fourth grade class at the Donovan Elementary School.
    “ I remember. Take the candy out of your
mouth when you talk.”
    Philip removed the Jolly Rancher and said,
“We were upstairs in my room. I gave him a candy bar, a Snickers.
He only ate half of it.”
    “ A half of a candy bar went uneaten?”
said Mr. Felton. “That’s a mystery right there. I thought you guys
didn’t stop until you devoured every candy bar in
sight.”
    “ He might have been filled up from the
two Milky Ways and the Baby Ruth he already ate.”
    “ Ah, I see. Mystery solved.”
    “ That’s not the mystery, Dad. I woke up
this morning and remembered the half a candy bar, but I couldn’t
remember what Emery did with it. I knew he didn’t eat
it.”
    “ Go on.”
    “ He didn’t take it home, either,” said
Philip, “because I remembered his hands were empty when he left.
Then I saw a brown fingerprint on my wall, and it had to be a
chocolate fingerprint of Emery’s.”
    “ Why Emery’s fingerprint and not yours?
And clean the wall before your mother sees it.”
    “ I will,” said Philip. “Emery’s because
I gave Emery the soft candy bars and he got all chocolaty. I ate
the hard ones.”
    “ Very cunning of you. Then you could
tell your mom Emery made the mess, not you.”
    “ Dad, stop. I found the fingerprint on
the wall next to my bureau. I looked around, but I didn’t see the
candy bar anywhere. Only my three Nate the Great books were on top
of the bureau. I read them again after Emery went home and left
them there. Threw them there, actually. Since I threw the books on
top of the bureau, I figured maybe the books knocked the candy
bar behind the bureau and when
I looked, I saw the candy bar stuck halfway down.”
    “ So where is the evidence now?” Mr.
Felton asked.
    “ I ate it.”
    “ You ate the evidence?”
    “ After I washed a little dust off it,”
said Philip.
    “ Sounds kind of gross to me,” said Mr.
Felton, making an ick face.
    “ I couldn’t waste a whole half a candy
bar, Dad. I said I washed it before I ate it.”
    Philip’s father smiled. “And you owe your
success to teamwork between you and Nate the Great.”
    “ What teamwork?”
    “ Nate’s inspiration and your careless
aim.”
    The doorbell rang and Philip ran to get it.
When he opened the door, Emery walked in.
    “ Emery, hello,” said Philip’s father.
“We were just talking about you.”
    “ I lost my Superball,” Emery moaned
dejectedly. “And I had to pester for it, too. My mother said I
pestered her so much she only bought it to keep me quiet. Now I
can’t even find it.”
    Philip and his father looked at each
other. Another