"Hello!" Granny said. "Can I interest you in anything? We've got some great bargains here."
Boarman and Swineheart nodded and snorted at Nottingham. "How much money have you raised so far, Relda?" Swineheart asked.
"Oh, I think we've gotten a thousand dollars so far," the old woman said sheepishly.
Sabrina cringed. The sale had been going on for four hours and they weren't even close to raising the full three-hundred-thousand-dollar tax bill.
Boarman picked up a letter opener. It had a marble handle and roses engraved in the steel. "This is beautiful," the portly man said.
"Yes, my husband bought that for me when we made a stop in Paris," Granny said wistfully.
"I'll take it," Boarman said. He reached into his pocket and took out an enormous roll of money, then handed it to Granny Relda.
"Mr. Boarman, you've given me too much. The letter opener is only ten dollars," the old woman said.
Boarman smiled and shook his head. "I think you're wrong. The price tag says ten thousand dollars."
Sabrina was stunned silent, as was nearly everyone else. Everyone but Nottingham, that is. The man was so shocked, he nearly fell out of his chair.
When it was Swineheart's turn, he selected a set of silver steak knives in an oak box. "I'll take these," he said, tossing an even bigger wad of cash on the table. Sabrina noticed the price tag said twenty-five dollars. She guessed Swineheart had paid as much as twenty-five thousand.
"Gentlemen!" Granny said. "This is much too generous."
"What is the meaning of this?" Nottingham cried.
That's when Briar Rose appeared. Behind her was a group of Everafters the family had known for years: Mr. Seven, King Arthur, Geppetto... the line went on and on. Each was carrying a huge stack of money.
"You've been good friends to us," Briar said, then turned to Uncle Jake. "And I can't exactly date a guy who's homeless."
"But this is outrageous," Granny said. "I can't accept this money. You're giving away a small fortune."
"No worries," Mr. Seven said as he approached the table. "We live in Ferryport Landing. What are we going to spend our money on anyway?"
The crowd bought every little knickknack they could for ridiculous sums of money. With each sale, Nottingham seemed to have a new apoplectic fit. He fumed and raged and threatened, but the sales went on.
As the girls watched from the porch, they heard a tapping behind them and realized Prince Charming was trying to get their attention. They went inside to meet with him.
"What are you doing? Why aren't you working on the case?" he demanded.
"We're stuck helping out with the yard sale," Sabrina answered. "You know, we're only kids. It's not like we can just hop in a car and drive downtown."
"Not again, at least," Daphne said, reminding her sister of the time they had taken the car for a spin.
"Well, haven't you ever snuck out before? This is the perfect opportunity. Your grandmother is distracted. Take the magic detector and go! If she asks for you, I'll tell her you're upstairs fussing with your hair or playing dolls."
"Is that what you think we do with our free time?" Sabrina said, aghast.
"Just go!"
The girls raced up stairs to retrieve the magic detector and nearly knocked over Puck in the hallway.
"What are you doing hiding up here?" Sabrina asked.
"There's hard work going on outside and, as you know, I'm allergic," he said. "I once carried a box for the old woman and nearly had to be hospitalized. Why aren't you two helping?"
"Uh... we're just going to our room," Sabrina stammered. "Do you smell that?" Puck asked. "Smell what?" Daphne said.
"A lie. I smell a lie and it's stinky. What are you two up to?"
Sabrina knew the fairy would never give up, so she dragged him into her bedroom with her sister in tow. "We're investigating the stolen magical items on our own," Sabrina said.
"And you don't want the old lady or Canis to find out? That's incredibly sneaky and dishonest."
The girls nodded with shame.
"I'm in," Puck said. "We can crawl out of your bedroom window and I'll fly you wherever you want."
"You want to change your pants, first," Daphne said. Puck glanced down at his filthy jeans. "No. Why?"
"They don't fit you anymore."
Sabrina studied the boy's pants. Normally the cuffs dragged on the ground and into whatever Puck stomped through, but now they were several inches above his ankles.
"They must have shrunk in the wash," Puck said.
"Since when do you wash your clothes?"