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Jolly Solly: Search Party

R. Atkins

The old man frowned. Life seemed suddenly stale, flat, and boring. What he needed, he realized, was some excitement!

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

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M r. Krankowitz had finished pruning his rosebushes and weeding the flower beds. He looked around to see if there was anything else left to do. There wasn’t. The old man frowned. Life seemed suddenly stale, flat, and boring. What he needed, he realized, was some excitement!

He thought back to the time he’d helped the police track down a gang of counterfeiters in the alleyway behind his back garden. The police had arrested them — and Mr. Krankowitz had even had his picture in the paper! If only he could have another adventure like that again...

Mr. Krankowitz looked up and down Sunny Lane for inspiration, but the street was quiet. The big kids were in school; the little ones, like Miriam Morris and Shimmy Rabinowitz, were in playgroup. Even Jolly Solly’s cheerful open-top car was missing from its usual place outside the clown’s house. Bah!

The old man decided to check around the back in the alleyway. After all, that’s how he’d found the counterfeiters that time: by noticing lights flashing in the alleyway at night. Of course, no one had believed him at first — he snorted at the memory — but Jolly Solly had soon sorted everything out.

He stood on tiptoes, groaning at the twinges in his back, and peered over the wall. The alleyway seemed pretty quiet. There were some garages farther down, used for storage, and an area of wasteland; but nothing suspicious seemed to be going on at all.

Suddenly, the old man heard a noise from the direction of the garages. Bang! Thwack! He pricked up his ears. Ha! What was that? Maybe it was some counterfeiters up to their tricks again!


The old man rushed indoors excitedly to call the police. But much to his annoyance, they proceeded to ask him a whole load of unnecessary questions. 

They wanted to know if he’d actually seen who was banging, and if he had any evidence that it was crime-related. Ridiculous! It wasn’t his job to find out that sort of thing — that was what the police were for! It was only after much ranting and raving by Mr. Krankowitz that they eventually agreed to send an officer around “when we have one available.”

Mr. Krankowitz slammed the phone down in a huff. What was the world coming to? Here he’d single-handedly caught a den of thieves, and instead of rushing down with the sirens blaring, all the police could commit to was coming when they were “available”! Bah!

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 682)

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