The Mysterious Benedict Society

and sweet treats — and guzzling chocolate milk and soft drinks. Reynie, meanwhile, speared a dry lettuce leaf with his fork and thought: So far, so good. Despite his bland supper, despite the nagging message broadcast in his head, and despite the uncertainty of his plan, he felt a stirring in his heart, a good feeling that might pass for hope. Kate had spread the powder, Reynie had delivered the note to Milligan, and neither of them had been caught. At least some parts of the plan were going as hoped.

It really was a good feeling. But it didn’t last long.

Jillson appeared in the cafeteria, a jubilant grin on her face, and came straight over to their table. Without asking, she crowded herself into a seat between Reynie and Kate — her wide shoulders forcing them to draw their arms close together over their trays, like praying mantises — and snatched a cream puff from Kate’s tray and said, “Hi, there, squirts!”

Kate frowned, but only out of principle. Privately she was delighted. “Help yourself,” she said coolly.

“Thank you, I will,” Jillson said, gulping the cream puff down. “Listen, I have good news and bad news, and I thought you kids would be particularly interested. You heard about S.Q.’s bungling the spy business, right?”

“It does ring a bell,” said Reynie, who didn’t like where this was going.

“Well, guess what?” Jillson said. “There’s been a new development. S.Q. went back down to the culvert just now, to take one last look around. And he found something.”

The children could only stare at her, stricken with dread. They were also confused. If S.Q. had found the note, then why weren’t they already in trouble? Was Jillson toying with them?

“Now, as I said, there’s good news and bad news,” Jillson went on.

Feeling as if they’d just been given very bad news indeed, Reynie had to stop himself from asking what the good news was.

“The bad news,” Jillson said, “is that what S.Q. found — a curious piece of paper — was destroyed before he could read it.”

“That’s . . . terrible!” the children cried, trying to cover their relief. It was too plain on all their faces, and they knew it.

Luckily, Jillson didn’t notice. She placed a hand on her belly and frowned. After a moment she belched, smiled with satisfaction, and continued, “Don’t worry, the good news makes up for it. The spy’s been caught!”

The children looked at one another. Caught?

Jillson belched again and scowled. “Must have eaten too much pudding. Yes, caught like a rat in a trap. Turns out it was a man disguised as a Helper. Came out of nowhere, snatched the paper from S.Q., and tried to run away. But Jackson heard S.Q. shouting for help, and some Recruiters on the bridge had seen it happen, so in no time they had the spy surrounded. He tried to fight them off, but he was no match for our guys, I can tell you. He’s in a classroom right now, under heavy guard.”

Reynie felt as if he’d been kicked in the belly. They had lost Milligan. “Why . . . why are you telling us this, Jillson?”

“Well, I have to admit I was surprised. Martina had convinced me that Kate was the spy. She was disappointed to learn otherwise. But I thought you should know Kate’s off the hook. The Helper confessed to everything. He’s a lone operator, apparently. That means he works by himself.”

Kate looked quite sick. “Did he say who he was?”

“We don’t know his name, but he was on the island once before — years and years ago. When they took off the disguise, Mr. Curtain and some of the Recruiters recognized him at once. Oh, and get this: He ate that piece of paper! Chewed it up and swallowed it before anyone could read it. Said it was from his private journal and was none of our business. Very dangerous madman. Don’t worry, though, they’re taking him to the Waiting Room in just — oh! Here they come now!”

The children could barely bring themselves to look.

There was Milligan. His hands and ankles were cuffed, his feet dragged along in a defeated shuffle, and his ocean-blue eyes, sadder than ever, focused only on the ground before him. Though he kept his head bowed, the cuts and bruises on his face were easily seen. He was being marched across the cafeteria by a half-dozen Recruiters and Executives (including a very proud Martina Crowe) — none of whom showed any marks from a scuffle. Reynie wondered how this was possible. Jillson said he’d tried to fight, but if Milligan had really resisted, wouldn’t his captors look as if they’d caught a tiger by the tail? Had he only pretended to struggle? But why? Unless . . .

Suddenly Reynie understood. Because S.Q. had glimpsed the note, Milligan had chosen to be caught. He’d wanted a chance to confess, a chance to make up a story about that piece of paper. A note would have suggested someone else had written it — another spy on the island — but a page from a private journal pointed only to Milligan himself. Yes, he had wanted to convince Mr. Curtain he was working alone, had wanted to take suspicion off the children. He had sacrificed himself for them.

As Milligan passed through the cafeteria, the whole place erupted in applause for the Executives and Recruiters, then horrible boos and jeers for the captured spy. The miserable man was led past their table — right past the grateful and heartbroken children he’d saved — but never did he look up or reveal any awareness of them.

“Boy, doesn’t he look glum?” Jillson said.

Kate started to speak, but a catch in her voice made her words incomprehensible. She was thinking exactly what her friends were thinking. Milligan had said he would die before he let any harm come to them.

Sticky’s Discovery

M captured. Must face Whisperer tomorrow. Please advise.

“Still no response,” Sticky reported from the window.

The others waited in depressed silence. Although the “stomach virus” had spread like wildfire (already the bathrooms and the Best of Health Center were crowded with students), the success of their scheme had done nothing to boost their spirits. Not even the sight of Jillson hurrying down a corridor with her hand over her mouth,