Wilma Tenderfoot and the Case of the Frozen Hearts by Emma Kennedy

to him his mouth was full of sweets.”
    â€œThat must have required a great deal of deduction,” said Theodore with a small smile.
    â€œWhat’s deduction ?” asked Wilma. The word rang a bell. “Isn’t that when you do math problems but take away rather than add? What’s that got to do with Tommy Barton’s candy?”
    Theodore tied the ends of Wilma’s bandage in a knot. “Deduction,” he explained, “is one word used for math problems when you take away rather than add. That is correct. But in this context it means working something out after examining a series of clues.”
    Wilma stared at Theodore. “What does context mean?”
    Theodore made a small noise in the back of his throat. “ Context means the situation in which something exists. So in the context of math, deduction means taking one number away from another. In the context of crime, a deduction is the solving of a clue based on the facts. So in the case of Tommy Barton’s candy, the fact that Frank Finley was discovered with a mouth full of sweets is a clue that could lead to the deduction that it was he who was the culprit. Culprit means person who did it.”
    Wilma nodded. “Oh yes, I remember. Deductions. It’s number two of your top tips for detecting. And contemplating is number one! Does this mean I’m your apprentice now, because being an apprentice means you learn stuff from someone who knows what they’re talking about?” Theodore stared back at Wilma. “That is what I have deductioned,” said Wilma, looking very serious.
    â€œDeduced, not deductioned,” said Theodore. “I don’t need an apprentice now; neither am I looking for one soon. Well, your finger is all cleaned up and fixed, so I expect you can run along, and you might want to stop your dog from eating that bar of soap.”
    â€œAll the same,” said Wilma, hopping down from the stool and taking Pickle by the collar, “if you are looking for one, then I expect I’m the person you’re looking for.”
    â€œHmmm,” said Theodore, holding the bathroom door open. “You remember the way out, don’t you? Good-bye.”
    â€œThank you for fixing my finger, Mr. Goodman,” said Wilma, walking past him and remembering the manners she had forgotten earlier.
    Theodore had run out of things to say at this point, but in any event his eye was following the woolen-clad figure of Mrs. Speckle, who was walking toward them with a tray of peppermint tea and corn crumbles. Balancing the tray on one arm, she opened a door to the left of the corridor. As Wilma passed it she peeked in and stopped in her tracks. “Is that your study?” she asked in a squeal of excitement.
    â€œIt is, yes,” said Theodore, who was looking over Wilma’s head at the plate of corn crumbles that Mrs. Speckle was lifting off the tray.
    â€œCan I look in it?” asked Wilma.
    â€œNo, you can’t,” said Mrs. Speckle, coming back out of the study. “You’ve bothered Mr. Goodman enough. Off you go. Inspector Lemone is here, Mr. Goodman. About the Katzin Stone being stolen and two poor souls killed over in Hillbottom.”
    Something stolen? Two people murdered? Wilma had to think fast.
    Theodore nodded and tucked his fingers into the top of his waistcoat pockets. “Send him in, Mrs. Speckle.”
    â€œCome on, you two, off you go,” said Mrs. Speckle from behind Wilma and Pickle, wiping her hands on her knitted apron.
    â€œOh!” said Wilma. “I just remembered! I left my scarf in the bathroom!”
    Mrs. Speckle sighed. She had to fetch Inspector Lemone, hang out the laundry, and get herself to the baker’s before it closed. She looked at Wilma.
    â€œAll right,” she said. “Go and get it. But be sure to get yourself home after that, you hear?”
    â€œYes, Mrs. Speckle,” said Wilma, who had no intention of