Pop’s study is in one of the newest parts of the White House, where there are long, winding hallways. It’s easy to get lost, especially if the lights are out. The study is a room full of books. Over it all hangs a portrait of Abraham Lincoln. My father says he likes working there, because if he has any questions, he can ask Abe.

The office was empty that night when we peeked through the doorway.

“Aaargh, mateys!” I said in my best pirate voice. “The coast is clear.”

I slipped inside, and the others followed.

“Archie, you’re not a pirate,” said Kermit.

“I practically am.”

Ethel said, “Come on now, boys, we’ve got things to do.”

“How can you practically be a pirate?” Kermit asked me.

I opened my mouth to show him. “All I’m missing is a gold tooth!”

“Boys!” Ethel exclaimed.

We wheeled around.

“Shhhhh!” Ethel faced us, hands on her hips. “I just want to remind you, we didn’t come to argue. We came for the Resolute.”

She gestured toward a big wooden desk. Dark with age, it had detailed patterns carved into it. Maps were mounted over it, and books and papers were stacked on top.

Kermit took a deep breath. “Well, here’s one way to find out what the clue is.”

He got on his hands and knees and began crawling around and under the desk. Ethel and I joined him, bumping heads and bruising shins.

“Ow!” I said, rubbing my forehead. “What exactly are we looking for?”

Kermit said, “Anything that has to do with latitude.”

“And you’re positive this desk is from the Resolute?” Ethel asked him.

“Absolutely. I heard Pop telling one of the servants that the ship was abandoned—”

“In latitude seventy-four degrees forty-one minutes north, longitude one hundred one degrees twenty-two minutes west on fifteen May 1854,” I said.

Kermit stared at me. “Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to finish sentences.”

“Archie, how did you know that?” asked Ethel.

“What, I’m not allowed to know things?”

Ethel and Kermit looked at each other, then said in unison, “No.”

I shrugged. “Okay, I read it off this plaque.”

I pointed to a brass plate fastened underneath the desk. They crowded in beside me to see it.

Ethel read, “‘The ship was purchased, fitted out, and sent to England as a gift to Her Majesty Queen Victoria by the President and People of the United States, as a token of goodwill and friendship.’”

Kermit continued, “‘This table was made from her timbers when she was broken up, and is presented by the Queen of Great Britain to the President of the United States.’”

“Wow,” I said.

“So this really is the Resolute,” said Ethel. “Now what?”

Suddenly an explosion rocked the room. We scrambled out from under the desk just in time to see my father stride into the office. The explosion had been the sound of him slamming the door.

“What are you scoundrels up to?” he demanded.

“Up to?” said Kermit meekly.

“Yes! What are you doing in this room?”

Kermit said, “Reading.”

Ethel said, “Playing.”

I said, “Thinking.”

Raising one eyebrow, my father gave us a funny look. We glanced back and forth at one another, trying to think of something else to say.

Kermit held up Treasure Island. “Just reading how . . .”

“To play . . . ,” said Ethel.

“At thinking,” I added.

“In my office?” asked my father.

Kermit said, “We thought it was more conducive to the spirit of the book if we read it here.”

“Under my desk?”

Thinking fast, I answered, “Sure, because, see, your desk is a former ship, and much of Treasure Island takes place on a ship, so it just seemed like a natural fit. Ship, Treasure Island. Treasure Island, ship. You can almost hear the waves crashing and the ship creaking.”

“I see,” said my father. “And this helps you visualize the book?”

Kermit said, “Oh yes.”

Ethel said, “Immensely.”

I said, “I can practically taste the salt air.”

Ethel said, “Father, have you finished negotiations?”

“No, I just have to change jackets. The Russian ambassador was making a point, and at the time he was eating a spoonful of borscht.”

Just then James entered, carrying a clean jacket. “Here you are, Mr. President.”

“Of course,” said my father, “if he wasn’t so nearsighted he might have noticed that I was standing right in front of him.”

As James helped him change jackets, Mrs. Duffit entered, worried and out of breath.

“Oh, there you are, children.”

My father said, “Mrs. Cuffit?”

Mrs. Duffit started to correct him, then shook her head and sighed. “Yes, Mr. President.”

“You might want to keep an eye on these rapscallions tonight. I have a feeling they’re up to something.”

She eyed us suspiciously. “I have the same feeling, Mr. President.”

He straightened up, brushed off the new jacket, and turned to James. “I’d better get back in there. Those Russians don’t like to be kept waiting.”

The two of them left, and Mrs. Duffit took charge. “I need to get my needlepoint from the other room. When I come back, I expect to see you three reading again.”

She started for the door, then turned back. A cold breeze blew.

You know,” she said, “I don’t like it when children run away from me.”

“W-we’re sorry,” I said.

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “I think you will be.”