“Actually,” said Winifred, whipping the new letter, which she had kept from him, out of her pocket, “we have his latest letter to you and we want to know what he means by ‘KEEP IT TO YOURSELF BUT FIND OUT MORE.’”

“That’s my letter!” said Zebediah, jumping up to grab it.

But Winifred was too fast for him. Wilfred leapt up, grabbed Zebediah, and sat on him. Winifred put the letter back in her pocket.

“If Daddy said keep it to yourself, he didn’t mean to keep it from us,” said Wilfred, panting from the exertion of keeping Zebediah under him. “Why would Daddy write to you and not us?”

“Because I write to him,” said Zebediah. “And I know things you don’t.”

“You do not,” said Winifred.

“I do, too,” said Zebediah.

“Oh, really? Then what is Daddy telling you it is time for?” said Wilfred. “I’ll tell you what he thought it was time for; he thought it was time for you to tell us what is going on.”

“You don’t know anything,” said Zebediah.

“That’s the point,” said Wilfred. “So tell us. And remember, we promised a long time ago to share any information about Mother and Daddy between the three of us. It’s very important that we children have a united front.”

“I promised Daddy, and I’m keeping my promise,” said Zebediah. “The last time he came home he told me something he didn’t tell you. He said it was our little secret.”

“You snake,” said Winifred. “You’re especially supposed to share Mother and Daddy’s secrets!”

“Zebediah,” said Wilfred, “sharing is essential.”

“Yes,” said Winifred. “Didn’t Franny and I share our candy with you when we might have kept it secretly for ourselves?”

“No, you didn’t. You said I could have it only if I told you my secret,” said Zebediah, outraged.

“Precisely,” said Winifred. “You didn’t get candy because you didn’t share. You have to learn to share, Zebediah. It’s a sin not to share. If you don’t share this, Wilfred and I won’t share anything else with you. Not our candy, not our secrets, nothing. And when you die, you’ll go to hell. With ghosts and goblins.”

“I do share!” cried Zebediah. “Even if I don’t share what I’m not supposed to, I do share. I share all kinds of things.”

“No you don’t, you little sneak,” said Winifred. “You run off to the woods every day and don’t tell us what you do all day long. You get letters from Daddy that I’m sure he would want you to share, and you don’t.”

“You never asked me what I do in the woods,” yelled Zebediah, looking frantic. “And I’m not going to hell with ghosts and goblins.”

“Not willingly,” said Winifred.

“You get dragged there,” said Wilfred, looking studiously unconcerned.

“By your hair,” said Winifred.

I thought the ghosts-and-goblins-in-hell bit was laying it on a little thick, but it wasn’t my family. Clearly this was a tried-and-true method of getting Zebediah to spill the beans.