www.whyville.net Nov 23, 2000 Weekly Issue


The Blackmoor Emerald

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The Blackmoor Emerald
Juliette weaves a brooding mystery.


   by Juliette
 Guest Writer

It didn't occur to Mr. Canes to inquire the circumstances which brought about the demise of his old friend, Sir Leonard Henry, which resulted in the exchange of ownership of the notorious Blackmoor Emerald.

It wasn't a lack of feeling on Mr. Canes' part. The end had been expected for three months.

"Of course, old friend, but I don't want your emeralds, although my money is yours for the asking," said Mr. Canes, unknowingly.

Sir Henry's only reply was, "No! No! I would not rest, when I go leaving debts. The jewel would buy security for what is left of my family. Please! BUY it, I beg of you!"

But the crafty Sir Henry was also well aware that three months was exactly how long he'd owned the flashing, green omen of doom! He shuffled off, Sir Henry did, with a smile on his lips and the assurance that the remaining Henrys had only the curse of money to face.

Mr. Canes' daughter, Elise, and her boyfriend, Jacob, had accompanied him to the funeral.

"Brrr, I hate funerals," Jacob stated, while the emotional Elise sobbed over this tragedy.

"Poor man, he was one of daddy's best friends," she cried -- although, that statement was inaccurate.

Elise and Jacob went with Mr. Canes to the purchasing of the Blackmoor Emerald. The transfer was made without a hitch, and they went home -- or so they thought. The glint of evil was already beginning to direct events...

The attempt to avoid the crash was almost successful, but not quite. As the Canes' car spun to a shattering stop, "THE EMERALD!!!" cries a nervous Mr. Canes, "Someone find it!" It had fallen from the car in the crash. But the flashing green bauble was too much for a pair of greedy young eyes.

"Wow, that looks like heavy dough," said the kid, as he ran from the owner of the emerald. Recklessly, he swung over a fence, and the misfortune he clung to so tightly STRUCK.

"OWWWWW!!!" he cried.

"He's hurt, he landed on a pile of junk," said Mr. Canes as they caught up to the boy.

"Sharp edges, rusty nails, jagges splinters, he really got ripped up," replied Jacob.

The evil gem back in its receptacle, the three watched as the ambulance wailed away into the distance.

"Well, that was an eventful trip, but the emerald is safe and sound."

The emerald, maybe, but are you, Mr. Canes?

TO BE CONTINUED

 

 

 

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