"It’s no use, Amanda. We’ve hit a dead end!" Julie slumped onto her knees, her hands covered in grime from digging through a box of forgotten junk in the dusty kitchen of the Boarded-up House. She wiped her dirty hands on a ragged dust-cloth, her face reflecting frustration. Amanda, perched precariously on a creaky old chair, nodded emphatically.

"I gave up hope ages ago," Amanda admitted, her voice tinged with resignation. "But you were determined to keep searching, so I followed along, keeping my doubts to myself."

It had been over three weeks since they’d found the old newspaper and pinpointed the date of the house’s last known activity. The discovery had fueled their hopes, and they had diligently scoured the decaying mansion ever since, convinced they’d eventually find a breakthrough or at least a clue that would crack the mystery. Instead, their efforts seemed futile, and even Julie had begun to voice her frustration.

"There’s one thing that really bothers me," Amanda continued, her tone sharper than usual. "It’s this insistence of yours to keep the Boarded-up House a secret. Honestly, do you think everyone will start suspecting us just because you mention it? If that’s how you feel, maybe it’s your own guilty conscience causing the problem!"

Julie looked up, her feelings hurt by Amanda’s unexpected sharpness. "Why, Amanda, what’s gotten into you? You’d think I was doing something wrong the way you’re talking."

"I didn’t mean to come off so harsh," Amanda replied, her tone softening. "But this constant reminder to keep quiet about the house is driving me crazy. I find myself almost letting something slip about it all the time—usually at the dinner table. Then I stutter, blush, and everyone asks what's wrong, and I have no idea what to say. It’s maddening!"

Amanda paused, then brightened with a new idea. "Maybe we could turn this around. Why not try getting the adults to talk about the house? We don’t have to let on that we’re interested—just casually bring it up in conversation. People love to gossip, and they might have some insights or stories that could give us new leads. And they probably won’t connect us to it directly."

Julie considered Amanda’s suggestion, her mind racing with possibilities. "You know, that’s a brilliant idea. It’s silly to keep everything so hush-hush. We might actually learn something useful by talking to others. Sherlock Holmes didn’t keep everything to himself—he gathered information from all sorts of sources. Why didn’t I think of this before? Good call, Amanda!"

Julie stood up, brushing off the dust from her clothes. "Let’s call it a day. I’m done with this dusty, old mess for now. We need to freshen up and rethink our approach. Tomorrow, we’ll put your idea into action and see what we can dig up from the adults."

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The next morning, Julie burst into Amanda’s kitchen, her excitement barely contained. She was early, a full half-hour before they needed to head to high school, and her energy was palpable.

“Hurry up, Amanda! I’ve got something really important to tell you!” Julie said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Amanda looked up from her cereal, slightly bemused. “But it’s not time to leave yet, and I’m not even halfway through breakfast. Can’t you just tell me here?”

Julie shot her a quick, knowing glance before turning away. “Later,” she said casually, then drifted into the living room where Amanda’s mother, Mrs. Sprague, was reading a book. The subtle hint was enough to prompt Amanda into action. She quickly finished her meal, slipped on her coat and hat, grabbed her books, and joined Julie at the door.

As soon as they were outside, Julie practically bounced with excitement. “So, last night, something clicked for me. My dad said something that made me realize we’ve been overlooking something major. There’s this real estate agent across town—Mr. Wade. He knows everything about every property here. We should go ask him about the old house. I’m sure he has information we need.”

Amanda hesitated. “But there’s the Sigma Sigma Society meeting this afternoon, and they’re putting on that play. I’ve been looking forward to it!”

Julie waved her hand dismissively. “Come on, Amanda! What’s a play compared to solving a mystery? This is more important. Besides, we can always catch up on the play later.”

Amanda sighed, seeing the determination in Julie’s eyes. “Alright, alright. But it better be worth it!”

That afternoon, a chill wind swept through the town as the girls made their way to Mr. Wade’s office. The overcast sky matched their mood—grey and dreary. When they arrived, they found Mr. Wade hunched over a red-hot space heater in his cramped office. He looked up in surprise as they entered, his face drawn and tired.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone curt.

Julie stepped forward, her voice firm but friendly. “Hi, Mr. Wade. We were hoping to ask you a few questions about the boarded-up house on Orchard Avenue.”

Mr. Wade’s brow furrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably. “That place? I don’t know much about it. It’s not on the market—never has been.”

“Oh, we’re not interested in buying or renting,” Julie said quickly. “We just wanted to know if you could tell us who the owners are, or where they might live.”

The agent’s mood darkened further. “I don’t have that information. I tried to find out once, but it’s all handled by some lawyers in New York. They don’t disclose any details.”

Julie’s heart sank slightly. “So, you don’t know their names or contact details?”

“Nope. It’s out of my hands. They made it clear that it’s none of my business,” Mr. Wade snapped.

Julie’s face tightened with frustration. “Well, could you at least tell us the names of the lawyers?”

Before she could finish, Mr. Wade cut her off, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Why do you need to know all this? What’s the old house to you?”

Julie’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh, nothing really,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just curiosity. Thanks for your time.”

The girls quickly left the office, their footsteps echoing on the empty street. “I was going to ask him about the lawyers,” Julie said, her voice tinged with disappointment, “but it’s clear now that he’s not going to be any help. I guess we’re back to square one.”

Amanda nodded, her face thoughtful. “I think he was in a bad mood. He looked sick and frustrated. Maybe we should just let it go for now.”

As they walked in silence, Amanda suddenly stopped, staring into the distance with a blank expression. Julie looked at her, puzzled.