The Secret at Jefferson's Mansion by Ron Roy Page B

asked.
    â€œMonticello is in Virginia,” the president said. “A little more than a hundred miles from here.”
    â€œI’ll work it out with your parents, Marshall,” Lois said. “We’ll stay overnight near Monticello. It’ll be a wonderful adventure. But first you have to get that closet painted!”

2
Marshall’s Secret
    On Wednesday morning, Marshall showed up at the White House with a bulging backpack. He set it gently on a chair in the president’s kitchen. KC was finishing breakfast.
    â€œWhat’s in there?” KC asked Marshall. “We’re only staying one night.”
    â€œI brought Spike,” Marshall said.
    KC almost choked on her orange juice. “You’re bringing your tarantula to Monticello?”
    â€œHe likes fresh food every day,” said Marshall. “And my folks won’t feed him for me, so I had to bring him.”
    KC looked sideways at the backpack.“Well, we can’t let my mom find out,” she said. “She’ll freak!”
    Marshall grinned and peeled a banana. “Don’t worry. Tarantulas are shy,” he said. “He’ll just sleep the whole time.”
    An hour later, the kids climbed into the backseat of one of the White House cars.
    The car left the city and sped past meadows, forests, and horse pastures. KC opened her book of presidents to read about Thomas Jefferson.
    Marshall pulled out two jars from his pack. He had poked holes in the lids. In the larger jar, Spike the tarantula lay on a nest of wood shavings. The second jar was half filled with black crickets. They jumped around on a layer of grass that Marshall had put inside.
    Before KC could say a word, Marshallhad unscrewed both jar lids. He plucked out a fat cricket and dropped it into Spike’s jar. Spike grabbed the cricket with his two front legs.
    â€œIs he eating it?” KC cried before she could stop herself.
    â€œWhat have you got back there, kids?” Lois asked over her shoulder.
    â€œUm, Marshall brought some snacks,” KC said.
    â€œOh, goody,” Lois said. “How about some for me?”
    Marshall started to laugh.
    â€œMom, you wouldn’t like them, trust me,” KC said, poking Marshall.
    â€œArnold, have you noticed how selfish some children are?” Lois asked the driver in a loud voice. “Imagine, my own daughter won’t share snacks.”
    Their usual driver was on vacation, so Arnold, a White House marine guard, was filling in.
    â€œIt is shocking,” Arnold said, shaking his head. “Kids today.”
    Now KC was laughing.
    â€œAnd I really could use a nice snack,” KC’s mom went on.
    â€œMe too,” Arnold said. “My stomach is growling.”
    KC and Marshall hooted with laughter as Marshall slid the jars back into his pack.
    KC went back to her president book. “Marsh, there’s a cemetery at Monticello!” she said. “See, here’s a picture.”
    It was an old black-and-white photo. A high iron fence surrounded crumbling tombstones and tall trees.
    â€œWho’s buried there?” Marshall asked.
    â€œThomas Jefferson and a lot of his relatives,” KC said. “We have to go see it!”
    Marshall pointed out a sign that said THOMAS JEFFERSON’S HOME, TEN MILES. An arrow directed them onto a narrower road.
    â€œI think I see Monticello!” KC cried after a few minutes. She leaned between her mother and Arnold.
    At the top of a hill sat a brick mansion with white painted trim. Fields and gardens spread out on all sides. In the front was a wide lawn shaded by tall trees.
    â€œWe’re right on time,” Lois said. “I told the curator to expect us around eleven.”
    Arnold drove up a curving driveway. He stopped at the top and parked near a brick path. Even before they got out of the car, KC noticed a thin, gangly man hurryingtoward them. He was pulling on his suit jacket as he loped over to