Ann Martin - New York, New York!

At one o'clock that afternoon, Mary Anne, the Harrington children, and I met Dad and my friends at the pier on the Hudson River at 42nd Street. Everyone except Alistaire and Rowena was wearing jeans.

"Well, you guys, get ready for thirty-five miles of sightseeing," said Mary Anne.

"She read the Circle Line pamphlet," Kristy whispered to me. "I think she knows it by heart. Listen to her." "The scenery comes to you," quoted Mary Anne. "Plus prize photo opportunities. Spacious decks. Informative commentators." I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, everybody," said Dad. "The tour starts at one-thirty." "Ooh, there's our boat/' Alistaire said softly, a few moments later. "It says 'America's Favorite Boat Ride.' Brilliant! And we get to go on it." We paid our entrance fee and boarded the boat. Alistaire and Rowena walked slowly around the deck, trying to figure out the best place from which to sightsee.

"Over here," Rowena would say.

"No, here I think," Alistaire would reply.

Then they discovered that food was available — snacks and sandwiches and sodas. They'd just eaten lunch, but that didn't seem to matter. I guess buying food almost anywhere is more interesting than eating what comes out of your own refrigerator.

"Let's get them something," I said to Mary Anne. "This is a special treat." "What if they get seasick?" "All right. No snacks. How about sodas?" Mary Anne agreed to that, so we bought sodas and then found an empty area by the deck railing, and stood there with Dad and my friends.

A few minutes later we were breezing down the Hudson River.

"Now, everyone/' said Mary Anne, "ahead of us you see the Jacob Javits Convention Center. It takes up twenty-two acres, five blocks — " "Mary Anne! We have a tour guide," I hissed. "And I can't hear him." Mary Anne closed her mouth.

I listened to the guide. So did Dad and Laine. I don't know why, since we were the three native New Yorkers in our group, and no one else was paying attention.

Mary Anne was giving herself her own tour. "The World Trade Center," I heard her murmur. "Two towers, one hundred and ten stories each . . ." Kristy was whispering to Claudia, "I can't believe we're leaving him completely alone this afternoon." (She meant the dog, which she'd named Sonny.) "Mrs. Cummings is bound to find him. We've just been lucky so far." Claudia was listening to Kristy — but giving the evil eyeball to Mallory.

Mallory and Jessi were looking in the opposite direction from everyone else, and Jessi was pointing and saying, "There's New Jersey, Mal. My home state. Hello, Oakley!" Dawn, sandwiched between Kristy and Mary Anne, was staring dreamily into space.

Rowena and Alistaire were alternately concentrating on their sodas and hoping to be sprayed in their faces as the boat chugged through the choppy water.

The man in the hat was reading a newspaper.

Wait a second! I froze. The man in the hat? What was he doing here? Was it the same man in the hat? The breeze whipped his newspaper, and as he struggled to hold onto the fluttering pages, I saw the sunglasses. It was the same man! "Mary Anne!" I hissed. I pulled her away from the others. "Don't panic. And keep quiet, okay? Now, don't panic — but there's the guy with the hat and glasses." Mary Anne turned pale. I wondered if her heart was pounding as fast as mine was. We were passing the Statue of Liberty, and everyone was gazing at it. Even the man.

"He's after the children!" Mary Anne whispered. "I know he wants to kidnap them. Remember when we learned about the Lind-bergh kidnapping? Remember that guy who took Anne and Charles Lindbergh's baby? A long time ago? Well, after that, a lot of famous people became afraid their children would be kidnapped, too. You know, for ransom money. And they tried to protect their kids by changing their last names and stuff. I just know this guy is after Alistaire and Rowena. Think how important their parents are." "And think of the ransom the Harringtons could afford to pay," I added.

"Oh, what are we going to do? Disguise the children?" "Disguise them? How? With mustaches and wigs? Come on, Mary Anne." "Well, do you have a better idea?" "No. But we are not going to disguise Rowena and Alistaire. We'll just have to watch them every second. Never let them out of our sight. We should probably be holding them in our laps right now," I added.

"Shouldn't we tell the Harringtons about this man?" "Tell them what? That we're being followed by a bad dresser and that they should alert the fashion police? The man hasn't done a thing. He barely even looks at the kids. We just see him everywhere. That's all." "I guess you're right," said Mary Anne ner- vously. "Okay. Never let the kids out of our arms. That's our motto." "I think 'Never let the kids out of our sight' will work just fine." Nevertheless, Mary Anne grabbed Rowe-na's hand and I grabbed Alistaire's. We held onto the children as we passed South Street Seaport, sailed under the Brooklyn Bridge and the Triboro Bridge, and gawked at Yankee Stadium. We held onto them as we plowed through the water under the George Washington Bridge.

"The George Washington Bridge?" said Claud. "I thought it was called the Abraham Lincoln Bridge. Isn't — " "You're thinking of the Lincoln Tunnel," I told her, eyeing the man.

The man had put his paper away. He seemed to be listening to our guide, who was soon directing our attention to Riverside Drive.

The tour was almost over. (In my opinion, it couldn't be over fast enough.) Mary Anne and I would have to stay on our toes for the next week.

Kristy.

Chapter 15.

I bet you think hiding a dog isn't easy.

Well, you're right.

We got away with it for three days, which may have been a miracle, although a few things were working in our favor: 1. Mr. and Mrs. Cummings are very busy and not home a lot. 2. We were able to keep Sonny in the guest bedroom behind closed doors by allowing Laine's parents to think that Mallory has some sort of privacy complex. 3. Sonny was an incredibly well-behaved and well-trained dog.

On Tuesday, when we first found Sonny and spirited him into the apartment, I stayed with him while Laine and Jessi bought dog supplies at the pet store and supermarket. During that time, Sonny got his name. I was lying on Jessi's bed, looking down at Sonny, who was sniffing around the room, and I whispered, "You look so much like Louie. It's really amazing. I think I'll call you Son of Louie." But Son of Louie was much too long a name, so I shortened it to Sonny.

That night, my friends and I closed ourselves in the bedroom with Sonny. We had told Mr. Cummings (Mrs. Cummings was out) that we were holding a secret BSC meeting.

This seemed possible, since Stacey, Claud, and even Dawn were visiting Laine that evening. Mr. Cummings smiled and said he would leave us to our own devices (whatever they are). Then I guess we really did hold a sort of BSC meeting, except that Laine isn't a member of the club. For more than an hour we fussed over Sonny. We tossed his new toys to him. We fed him dog treats. And we talked about what we were going to do with him. Since I thought I could soften up Watson by the time we left New York, I wasn't worried about finding a home for Sonny. I was just concerned about hiding him until I could bring him back to Stoneybrook with me, where he would live like a king in our house.

"How are you going to take him out for walks?" asked Jessi. "I can only ask so many stupid questions to distract the guard." "You probably just need to get him out of the apartment about three times a day, don't you?" said Laine. "Mom and Dad are out pretty often. That'll make things easier." "I guess," said Jessi.

"And we've got a food supply, and papers on the floor in case of an accident. All we have to do is keep Sonny quiet — and he's already quiet — keep him hidden, and keep his food dishes clean. You know, so they don't smell." "Uh-oh," said Stacey. "Laine, what about Sallie?" "Who's Sallie?" asked Dawn.