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“Huzzah!” said Judy.

On the bus ride home, Rocky told Judy how much he liked her book report. “When I first saw you looking like a pilgrim, I was sure it would be boring. But it was WAY not boring.”

“Thanks,” said Judy. “I hope I get a way good grade and it shows my Mom and Dad how grown-up and responsible I am.”

“Just think,” Rocky said, “how super scary it must have been when Sybil rode through the woods . . . and it was dark and robbers were all around.”

“But she had to stop the British from burning down the whole town of Danbury!”

“Yeah. But if she got caught, the bad guys might think she was a spy!” Rocky said.

Judy and Rocky talked about Sybil all the way home.

When they got off the bus, Judy started walking, then said, “Oops, I almost forgot. I rode my bike to the bus stop today.”

“Okay. See ya!” called Rocky as he loped off toward his house. Judy unlocked her bike. Behind her, the doors of the bus hissed and closed, and the brakes squeaked as it pulled away from the curb.

Wait . . . something was not right.

Stink?

STINK!

Stink did not get off the bus! Stink had never NOT gotten off the bus before.

Judy could not think. She was sure she’d seen him get ON the bus. Should she yell for help? Race home and get Mom?

“HEY!” yelled Judy. “Mr. Bus Driver! HEY!” she shouted. The bus was already driving off down the street.

WWBFD? What would Ben Franklin do? Go to bed early? Save a penny? Judy did not think sugar packet sayings could help her now.

There was only one thing to do. Chase the bus!

Mom would worry if she didn’t come right home, but there was no time to go tell her. Not when her brother was being kidnapped by a runaway bus.

She, Judy Moody, had to get her brother back. No matter how stinky he was, he was still her brother.

Judy hitched up her pilgrim skirt and hopped on her bike. She pedaled hard. She pedaled fast. She rode like the wind. She rode like Sybil on Star. She chased that bus down the street and around the corner and up the hill and down the hill.

Cars whizzed by. Whoosh! Dirt flew in her face. She swerved to miss a big hole in the road. What if she fell off her bike and broke her head?

Judy kept riding. She tooted her horn. She yelled, “HEY! Mr. Bus! My brother’s on there. GIVE! ME! BACK! MY! BROTHER!”

The bus kept going.

A dog barked at her. What if a big meany dog got loose and chased her? What if she got bitten by a wild dog? A wild dog with RABIES?

Judy pedaled faster. Wind flapped her skirt and whipped her thirteen curls every which way. A big green garbage truck screamed by, way too close. Judy’s wheels wobbled. Her handlebars shook. The truck honked at her, wooomp, deep like a foghorn. Her heart pounded.

What if she got run over by a P.U. garbage truck?

She rode her bike all the way to Bacon Avenue. Traffic! Cars! Trucks! Red lights!

Then she saw it. The bus! The school bus, bright as a big cheese in the middle of the road. It had crossed the intersection and was heading up the hill on the other side of Third Street.

Mom and Dad would FREAK if she crossed the busy street in the middle of traffic by herself. But they might freak more if she came home late . . . without Stink!

WWSLD? What would Sybil Ludington do? Sybil would think for herself. Be independent. Be brave.

Judy hopped off and wheeled her bike to the crosswalk. She waited for the Big Red Hand on the sign to change to the Big Bright Walking Man. “Hurry up!” Judy yelled at the light. “The bus is getting away!”

Finally, the light changed. She looked both ways, took a deep breath, and crossed the street safely.

Judy hopped back on her bike and zoomed up the hill. Puff, puff, puff.

Judy huffed and puffed until she caught up with the bus. “Stink!” she shouted, biking on the sidewalk, right alongside the bus. The bus driver looked over. Judy pointed to the back of the bus. “My brother!”

At last! The bus stopped to let some kids off. The door rattled open. “My little brother . . . puff, puff . . . is . . . puff, puff . . . on that bus!” Judy yelled.

Stink was already rushing up to the front