Many thanks to everyone who read this story, here is the last chapter!

~I am that Writer

PS: It is 150 pages. Yay!

13

CROISSANTS AT THE BAKERY

Bruno stepped forward and kicked the man's gun farther away from him. He held his own pistol steady, and ordered for the man to stand up.

Sheriff Lewis quickly recovered, and picked up his own gun on the floor, aiming it at Clancy Bond, who was looking around, dazed.

The dark-haired man on the floor, with his black, pointed boots, stood up.

It was Mr. Stevens, the pilot from the boat Liberty.

Marie-Grace gasped. She cried out, "Mr. Stevens!" wondering if there was some mistake that he was in the same cabin with the murderer Clancy Bond.

The man looked guiltily at her. "I never would have harmed you, Marie-Grace," he said quietly.

Sheriff Lewis quickly stepped forward and took handcuffs out of his pocket, snapping them onto Mr. Stevens' wrists, all the while watching Clancy Bond carefully.

"Your father healed my son from the Yellow Fever," Mr. Stevens told Marie-Grace. He hung his head. "I didn't want you to see me like this, so I made you turn around."

"But I recognized him!" Alice spoke up. "That's why I gasped. And then Bruno hit him from behind." She shook her head in admiration at her cousin's bravery.

Bruno stood still, pointing his gun firmly at Clancy Bond, seeming to think he was the greater threat, now that Mr. Stevens was revealed and handcuffed.

Sheriff Lewis quickly handcuffed Clancy Bond, as well.

"I'm sorry, Marie-Grace," Mr. Stevens said quietly.

Marie-Grace felt tears come to her eyes.

"I needed the money. Ever since my wife died, my son and I haven't have a home."

"But what about your job on Liberty?" Marie-Grace asked.

He shook his head. "It wasn't enough. My son wasn't getting enough food."

"Where is he now?" Marie-Grace asked.

"In New Orleans." Mr. Stevens dropped his head again. "He tried to make a few coins, polishing gentlemen's shoes on the street. I promised him I would be back soon."

Marie-Grace was quiet. "Did you murder Mayor Potts?" she finally asked.

"No, that was Clancy Bond." Mr. Stevens looked at the murderer. "He told me to shake a bush with a string, to make the mayor come out the backdoor. I didn't want to, but Clancy threatened me.

"I found the criminal the day I got off Liberty, hiding behind the hotel I was staying at. He was going to kill me when I offered to help him, if he would give me some of the profit. I was desperate. He admitted he would like a partner. I quickly realized how much of a mistake it was to join him."

The criminal glowered at Mr. Stevens as the Sheriff finished handcuffing him.

Marie-Grace sadly wondered if she should believe Mr. Stevens. How did she know he wasn't lying about not murdering the mayor? She couldn't trust him anymore.

Suddenly Alice, as bossy as ever, with her hands on her hips, demanded, "What about the mayor's papers? Why did you take them?"

Mr. Stevens shrugged. "That was an accident. Clancy and I had just meant to rob the bank, and we needed to get the mayor out of the way. I actually hadn't known Clancy would murder him. We saw the papers on our way out, and Clancy snatched them, saying they might be important. He burned them after he looked at them back at the cabin."

Alice seemed satisfied with the answer, though Marie-Grace again wondered if she should believe Mr. Steven's word.

Alice suddenly went to stand in front of Clancy Bond, her hands still on her hips. "Did you kill old Mrs. White?" she demanded.

The man glared at her, and Alice met his icy gaze. Finally, he jerked his head in a stiff nod.

"Let's take these men to the jail!" Sheriff Lewis decided, finally. Marie-Grace felt relieved that someone was taking charge of things.

As the sheriff and Bruno herded the men out of the cabin with their guns, Marie-Grace stepped forward and touched Mr. Stevens's arm, stopping him. "What about your son?" she asked quietly.

Mr. Stevens looked sad. "I suppose he'll stay with my aunt in New Orleans, for the time being."

The sheriff turned to Mr. Stevens, a look of understanding in his eyes. "You know, things might go easier on you if you continue to cooperate."

– ❧ –

Marie-Grace and Alice woke up late the next morning, from their long night before.

All the adults had already heard about the girls' incident with the criminals and sheriff, from Bruno, who had woken his parents the night before, when they arrived back at the house—and word had quickly spread until Aunt Lissie's, and the uncles' and aunts' houses were awake.

Sheriff Lewis stopped by that morning to say that Mr. Stevens and Clancy Bond were safely in jail. And Mr. Stevens—unlike Clancy Bond—was cooperating, and told the police everything, and said that he regretted his actions—so he was only sentenced to a short time in jail. His son was being looked after by his aunt in New Orleans.

Marie-Grace and Alice were scolded terribly for their behavior, and Papa announced that they would be returning home in a few days.

Bruno was scolded, too, for running off with the girls, but as Uncle Alex was speaking to him firmly, Marie-Grace could see the pride he felt for his son in his eyes.

"It must have been terrifying!" Elise said. "Weren't you girls scared, hiding in that old cabin?"

"You're lucky the ghosts didn't get you!" Gilbert teased.

Marie-Grace sighed, and said, "Oh, Gilbert, there are no ghosts! When Alice first showed me the cabin, I saw a light in it, and I admit I thought it might be a ghost, but now I'm sure it was just Mr. Stevens and Clancy Bond."

"I can't believe you girls actually saw that horrible criminal!" Édith shivered.

Just then, Aunt Lissie brought out a pan of biscuits, with butter and strawberry jam on the side. She set it on the table and said to Marie-Grace and Alice, "To think, you girls running off and solving a mystery!" Her voice was accusing, but she leaned down and smiled, whispering, "But I think you girls were brave, and I'm proud of you."

But Aunt Lissie was hard of hearing, so her words were louder than intended, and the other adults heard. They all nodded, hesitantly, in agreement.

Later, in Aunt Lissie's house, as the women and girls cooked the noon meal, Marie-Grace realized she hadn't wrote Cécile a letter since she had been on Liberty.

So she sat down at a quiet little desk, in a room at the back of Aunt Lissie's house, and took out a piece of paper, a feather pen, and an ink jug from the desk's drawer.

Marie-Grace dipped her feather in the inkwell, and held it hovering above the paper for a moment.

She wondered where to begin, how to write everything that had happened since she'd arrived in Cairo.

Finally, she put her feather to the paper, and stroked downward. The feather's tip scratched the surface noisily. Dear Cécile, she began.

I'm sorry I haven't written to you since I was on the boat. That's because so many things have happened since I've arrived in Cairo, Illinois!

You were right. I have had an adventure. This is my second one since I left New Orleans. I will tell you all about it when I come back home (Papa said we will be leaving in a few days), but for now I will try to write the small details. . . .

She smiled, and continued writing, filling up three whole pages of paper, writing on the front and back of them, in small handwriting. Her hand was cramped when she finished. She signed it:

Your Friend,

Marie-Grace

– ❧ –

Later, Papa told Marie-Grace that—since the criminals had been caught—she and Alice were free to go to town by themselves.

"I still can't believe Mr. Stevens was helping a criminal," Papa sighed.

"He said he regretted what he did," Marie-Grace reminded him gently. "I think he is really a good man. But he needed money for his son." She knew the blow was hardest on Papa, who had known Mr. Stevens a long time.

Marie-Grace and Alice decided to walked to town—with André, who had begged to come.

They passed the jewelry store, and Marie-Grace went inside, still curious about Mr. Gregory's behavior two days before.

Alice and André stood behind her, quietly.

"Mr. Gregory?" Marie-Grace asked, sighting him behind a counter.

He smiled and said, "Yes?" raising his eyebrows.

"Where did you get the necklace with the ruby stone in it?" Marie-Grace asked. She didn't see it on the counter.

"You mean the one you dropped the other day?" he said.

Marie-Grace nodded.

He sighed, then said, "I suppose you've guessed where it came from." He fiddled with a gold ring he was holding.

André, paying no attention to their conversation, picked up a pretty silver bracelet from the counter, and held it up in the sunlight.

Mr. Gregory put down the ring. "I heard you helped catch the criminals last night," he said, clearly stalling for time.

But Alice got straight to the point, claiming, "The necklace was Mrs. White's, and it was stolen!"

Mr. Gregory nodded reluctantly. "A tall, dark-haired man came into the store and sold it to me." He shook his head. "But I didn't know it was stolen! . . . at the time. A woman came into my shop later, and offered a large sum of money for it. She didn't buy it, but I was excited at the idea that I could sell it for an expensive price. Then I read in the newspaper about Mrs. White's stolen jewelry, and saw that the description of a necklace matched the one in my shop." He shrugged. "I was still trying to sell it when you girls saw it."

"But you turned it into the police, in the end?" Marie-Grace asked.

He nodded. "Yes, and I have these for you girls." He held up two identical matching silver necklaces. The chains on the necklaces were delicate, and on the end of the chain hung a tiny blue sapphire stone.

Alice gasped. "They're beautiful!" She quickly added, "But I don't think Papa could afford them."

"I'm giving them to you free!" Mr. Gregory told the girls. "In congratulations for helping capture the criminals. Did you know they had stolen other things besides money from the bank, and Mrs. White's jewelry?"

The girls nodded. They had read the newspaper that morning—which, apart from the title words on the front page—YOUNG GIRLS SOLVE MYSTERY!—had held all the details about the captured criminals.

He shook his head. "Who knows what else they might have stolen if they hadn't been captured!"

The girls took their necklaces eagerly and put them around their necks. They thanked Mr. Gregory, and left the shop.

Out in the street again, Marie-Grace could see Mr. Anon standing by the bank, staring at it.

"Look!" she told Alice. "Why is he so interested in the bank?"

They were close enough to hear Mr. Anon turn to a nearby man and say, "I'm thinking about getting a job at this bank."

"Oh!" Alice laughed. "That explains it!"

Marie-Grace nodded in agreement, and felt bad for ever suspecting the man.

As they continued walking, they passed the bakery, and Mrs. Davis called to them from the open bakery window. "Hello, girls!" Her voice was cheerful. "I heard you solved a mystery!"

They both nodded, and Mrs. Davis offered, "Come into the bakery!"

André rushed in front of them, so she was the first to get a free croissant from Miss Marshal, who smiled as the little girl took it.

Alice and Marie-Grace took their croissants as well, and thanked Mrs. Davis and Miss Marshal. The women congratulated them like Mr. Gregory had, for they had read the newspaper, too.

Outside of the bakery, Marie-Grace felt bad for ever suspecting Mrs. Davis and Miss Marshal, even if just barely. They were nice women to give them free croissants.

But Marie-Grace was past all that now—she and Alice had solved their mystery.

The girls walked down the street of Cairo, Illinois, taking their time. Marie-Grace glanced at a wood post to see the wanted paper of Clancy Bond being taken down.

It was warm for March. There was a cool breeze in the air, and the sun was hot overhead.

André popped the last of her croissant into her mouth, then licked her fingers for crumbs. "Alice," she asked, "when we get home, can we visit the cabin in the woods?"

GLOSSARY OF FRENCH WORDS

Oui (wee)—yes

Sont-ils mon cousin, et mon oncle?—Are they my cousin, and my uncle?

Bonjour (bohn-zhoor)—hello, good morning

Parlez-vous français?—Do you speak French?

Maman (mah-mahn)—mama

Merci (mehr-CEE)—thank you

Quoi?—What?

Nous avons besoin de votre aide—We need your help

*Watch out for newest American Girl story from I am that Writer: a Caroline Mystery, coming soon!*