Winifred put her hand over Zebediah’s pile and said, “This candy is for you, but only if you tell me about this big secret you and Daddy share.”

Zebediah said, “Never.”

So he got no candy at all. It was more for Winifred and me, but that was hardly the point.

This worried Winifred. “If he is choosing this secret over candy, it must be very serious. Wilfred isn’t worried about Zebediah’s secret little correspondence with Daddy; he is just annoyed at Zebediah because we had all agreed some time ago to pool information about Mother and Daddy and their doings. But now I think Wilfred should be worried. We should all be worried.”

* * *

Tuesday passed normally, but Wednesday Sina decided to go to Brookman’s again. Zebediah was off by himself, and Wilfred was with Old Tom, so once again it was only Winifred and I who tagged along. Afterward, when Sina settled herself in the truck and looked through the mail, she said, “Another letter for Zebediah.”

Winifred and I shot each other looks but said nothing.

“I don’t like this,” Winifred whispered to me once we got home. “We need to get a hold of that letter.”

“Sina,” I said, “why don’t Winifred and I find Zebediah and give him his letter?”

“No need,” said Sina. “‘I’ll give it to him at dinner.”

She took it into the studio with her own mail and held it until dinnertime, when she presented it to Zebediah, back from his day in the woods, so there was no chance to steal it.

* * *

Thursday, Zebediah gave Sina another letter for Mr. Madden, which Sina promised dutifully to mail that day at Brookman’s. Then Zebediah took off for the woods.

“This is terrible,” said Winifred to me as we loaded what milk and eggs we had accumulated into the truck. “She shouldn’t feel obligated to take time out of her busy day to be his personal postman.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely why she’s going,” I said. “You’ve seen her around the radio. It is very strange. I think there’s something she’s not telling us. It’s not like her to be so secretive. It’s certainly not like her to be running back and forth to Brookman’s so often.”

“Everyone is suddenly so secretive,” said Winifred. “Daddy, Zebediah, Sina. You don’t suppose they’re in on something together?”

“Whatever could your father and Zebediah and Sina be in on together? And where is your mother in all this? Or Old Tom? No, I think Wilfred may be right, the letters may be quite innocent. After all, Zebediah can barely print, right? He’s probably just sending your father pictures of planes he’s drawn or something and trying to make himself important.”

“What about the one from Daddy that said ‘NOW IS THE TIME’?” asked Winifred.

“Who knows? Time to keep fit. Time to learn how to print better. I don’t know. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Too late for that,” said Winifred.