The Mystery on the Freedom Trail
One if by land! Too many tombstones! Four funny friends! Spooky old places! Lots of clues and it's a race to the finish! When their schoolteacher cousin disappears in the middle of running the Boston Marathon, four kids wind their way through the perilous maze of Boston streets along the Freedom Trail to discover what happened! Take your mark and race with Christina, Grant and their cousins - Derian and C.F. - as they try to track down the mysterious whereabouts of their schoolteacher cousin who has disappeared from the famous Boston Marathon - right in the middle of the race! MORE than a race, a mystery! MORE than a mystery, there's real history about the Freedom Trail and the Boston Marathon history, too! MORE THAN ENOUGH REASONS TO RACE TO READ... The Mystery on the Freedom Trail The Boston Marathon Mystery.
One if by land! Too many tombstones! Four funny friends! Spooky old places! Lots of clues and it's a race to the finish! When their schoolteacher cousin disappears in the middle of running the Boston Marathon, four kids wind their way through the perilous maze of Boston streets along the Freedom Trail to discover what happened! Take your mark and race with Christina, Grant and their cousins - Derian and C.F. - as they try to track down the mysterious whereabouts of their schoolteacher cousin who has disappeared from the famous Boston Marathon - right in the middle of the race! MORE than a race, a mystery! MORE than a mystery, there's real history about the Freedom Trail and the Boston Marathon history, too! MORE THAN ENOUGH REASONS TO RACE TO READ... The Mystery on the Freedom Trail The Boston Marathon Mystery.
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Marath<strong>on</strong> is <strong>the</strong> oldest marath<strong>on</strong> in America, so<br />
it’s really special. It has an incredible history!”<br />
Christina and Grant grabbed <strong>on</strong>e ano<strong>the</strong>r and<br />
groaned. Oh, no! When Mimi said <strong>the</strong> word<br />
history, <strong>the</strong>y knew <strong>the</strong>y would be in for a big, l<strong>on</strong>g<br />
tale of everything about everything. But not this<br />
time. She ignored her grandkids’ dramatic<br />
groaning and headed up <strong>the</strong> driveway for<br />
<strong>the</strong> house.<br />
Christina chased her, running beneath <strong>the</strong><br />
overhang of magnolia limbs over <strong>the</strong> azalea-lined<br />
path of pink and purple blooms. “Are we going?”<br />
Grant chased Christina. “Wait up, you two!”<br />
he pleaded. He took a shortcut across <strong>the</strong> wide<br />
green lawn, weaving (against Mimi’s rules)<br />
through <strong>the</strong> forest of pampas grass spewing<br />
fountains of white, fea<strong>the</strong>ry spikes. “Are we<br />
going?” he begged.<br />
On <strong>the</strong> fr<strong>on</strong>t porch, Mimi plopped down in <strong>the</strong><br />
big, white Victorian rocking chair. She pulled out<br />
her cell ph<strong>on</strong>e from her jacket pocket. Grant and<br />
Christina piled into <strong>the</strong> rocker beside her. “Are<br />
we? Are we?!” <strong>the</strong>y hissed, as Mimi dialed <strong>the</strong><br />
number. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g>y held <strong>the</strong>ir breath until <strong>the</strong>y heard<br />
her say, “Emma? We’re coming to <strong>the</strong> Big BM!”<br />
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