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The Second Trip

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Patrick, Beth, and Mr. Whittaker were at Whit’s End on Tuesday morning. They were in the workshop getting ready for the Roman adventure.

Beth came out of the girls’ changing room. Patrick came out of the boys’ changing room soon afterward.

The cousins were curious about their ancient Roman costumes.

“Why did you give me a plain dress?” Beth asked Mr. Whittaker. “The cloth is rough. And the only thing pretty about it is the gold border.” She looked down at the gray tunic. It reached to her ankles. The tunic was not long enough to cover her leather sandals.

“You need to blend in,” Mr. Whittaker said.

“As what?” Beth asked.

“A slave,” Mr. Whittaker said. “There were lots of slaves in ancient Rome.”

“A slave!” Beth said. “No!”

“Don’t complain,” Patrick said. “I have to wear a bathrobe!”

Mr. Whittaker laughed. “It’s not a bathrobe,” he said. “The ancient Romans wore robes and tunics.”

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“But the belt is a rope,” Patrick said. “And the hood is weird. When I put it on, I look creepy.”

“No one in Rome will think you look creepy,” Mr. Whittaker said. “In fact, that kind of robe was a sign of peace. It’s what monks wore.”

“Monks?” Beth asked.

“A monk is a holy man,” Mr. Whittaker said. “They can live anywhere.”

“I’m going to be a holy man?” Patrick asked. “But I can’t even sit still in church!”

“It’s better than being a slave,” said Beth.

The cousins walked to the Imagination Station. It reminded Patrick of the front of a helicopter. He looked at Beth and smiled. She smiled back. The cousins wanted to get going.

They climbed inside the Imagination Station.

Patrick and Beth looked carefully at the dashboard. A red button was in the center. Around it were dials, levers, and flashing lights. On top of the dashboard were two letters.

Two very old and mysterious letters.