building. I wondered whether they could have followed us and seen me getting into a cab. They might even have gotten into a cab of their own and followed me all the way to Mr. McGill's building! I wondered if they were waiting for me downstairs.

I tossed and turned for awhile, trying to fall asleep again. Finally I gave up and just lay there, thinking. Or maybe worrying is a better word. I knew I'd feel better as soon as I was with Quint again and we started to do some detective work — doing is always better than worrying. But it was too early to get up. I didn't want to wake Stacey, and I knew Quinf s family wouldn't be expecting visitors until later on.

I rolled over and grabbed the book I'd brought. It was Misty of Chincoteague, which I have read probably five hundred times. There's something wonderful about re-reading a favorite book. it’s just so comforting to follow the familiar words and to watch the plot unfold in the way you know it will. Before long I was swept up in the story, and my worries dropped away.

"Morning, Jessi," said Stacey, sleepily. It was about eight by the time she rolled over and rubbed her eyes. "Sleep well?"

"Sure," I lied.

"Ready for breakfast? I bet Dad has bagels

and cream cheese and stuff. He always goes to Zabar's to stock up before I visit." Zabar's is this huge food store on the other side of town, near where Quint lives. It sells all kinds of great stuff.

"I'm starved," I replied. I was, too. I guess lying awake for hours can really build up your appetite.

I dressed in my "walking around the city" outfit, and joined Stacey and her dad for breakfast. Stacey was right. Mr. McGill had gone to Zabar's, and he'd gotten tons of food. I don't usually eat big breakfasts because I have to keep in shape for ballet. But that morning, I ate until I was stuffed. I figured I'd need my energy. You'd think that being nervous would affect my appetite, but no. I'm hungry no matter what kind of mood I'm in.