Emma climbed the attic steps and stood next to Uncle Ned. “Well, I’ll be damned!” said Emma. “Who on earth would have done such a thing?” “I don’t know,” said Uncle Ned.
Something was scratching at the back of Uncle Ned Creaky’s brain. It was that little thought in the back of one’s mind that grabs hold of your ability to stay focused.
Greta held Sarah’s sneaker against the grinding wheel, then strained, griped and groaned her way to the foot pedal. Having done so, she pumped at the pedal with a furious determination.
