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Benny pressed his nose against the cold, foggy window of the car. Half the fun of Silver Falls was a visit to Tom’s Gas Station. But not that day.

Violet felt sorry for Benny. Then she thought of something. She drew a silly snowman on the misty¹ window in the back. “Turn around, Benny. Look. Now you make one.”

In no time, Benny had drawn² a funny snowman on his window, too. When he had finished, he saw that Grandfather Alden was driving through the cheerful streets of Silver Falls. It was lunchtime, and people were running errands or looking for a place to eat. “Is this the turn for Piccolos’ Pizza, Grandfather?” Benny asked hopefully.

“Sure is,” Mr. Alden answered. “Here’s something Tom told me to give you.”

Mr. Alden reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a package of Benny’s favorite cookies.

“I’ll save them for after lunch,” Benny said when he saw the treat. “Look, Tom stuck a note on top. For Benny, who had the winning penny.”

“I guess you have to put up with all kinds when you own a gas station,” Henry said. “That man should be glad to have a good mechanic like Tom to take care of his car, and he shouldn’t get so sore about things.”

Jessie felt the same way. “He even got mad about pizza!”

Benny turned around. “Not me! I’m glad about pizza. Are we there yet?”

Mr. Alden was confused. “Hmm. I thought we were, Benny, but I don’t see the big Piccolos’ Pizza sign.”

The children twisted their heads every which way. Where was that nice, old pizza sign anyway?

The car passed a tall, new building that filled up the block. The Aldens couldn’t find the pizza sign anywhere. Worse, they couldn’t find Piccolos’ Pizza, either!

Henry scratched his head. “We’re on the right street, but everything looks different.”

“And bigger,” Violet said after they passed a giant parking lot filled with cars and trucks.

“Hey!” Benny yelled. “Look at that!” He pointed³ to a huge billboard⁴ showing a red car with a long silvery tailpipe. Underneath⁵ were the words: SILVER FALLS: HOME OF THE MIGHTY⁶ MUFFLERS.

Mr. Alden went around the block again. “That billboard covers the Piccolos’ Pizza sign,” he said. “We must have passed the restaurant by mistake.”

Benny pressed his face against the window again. “I sure hope they didn’t hide the restaurant behind that billboard too.”

The second time around the block, everyone finally spotted⁷ the pizza place.

“No wonder we missed it,” Henry cried, when Piccolos’ Pizza came into view. “The new factory building practically blocks out the whole restaurant.”

Mr. Alden drove slowly, searching for a parking place. “I can’t imagine why Tom was worried. The restaurant must be crowded, what with all these cars. There’s hardly an empty space.”

“There’s a space, Grandfather,” Violet said. “Where that truck just pulled out.”

Mr. Alden noticed a sign that said LOADING AREA — TRUCKS ONLY.

Jessie looked puzzled. “That doesn’t make any sense. The Piccolos should have these parking spaces for their own customers.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to squeeze in down the block,” Mr. Alden said, and so he did just that.

It was a fairly long walk back to the restaurant. Along the way, the Aldens noticed how much the block had changed since their last visit to Silver Falls. This new factory stretched the whole length of the street, and so did the tall fence around the building.

“Not a very friendly-looking place the way the old factory was,” Mr. Alden said.

“I sure wouldn’t want to work here,” Henry added. “Probably lots of customers for the Piccolos, though. Too bad the factory gate isn’t closer. It is a long walk for pizza.”

“Oh, no. Look!” Jessie said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “There’s that car again. At least I think it’s the same car we saw at Tom’s.”

When the Aldens looked up, the same big car drove slowly past them.

Violet shivered. “It is that same awful man. Too bad he works right next door to the Piccolos. I hope he doesn’t treat them the same way he treated Tom.”

“I certainly hope not,” Mr. Alden said.

The Aldens were in front of Piccolos’ Pizza now. The two-story wooden building looked small and shabby squeezed up against the huge new factory. Although cars and trucks filled every space in front, the restaurant looked dim.

“Something is wrong here,” Mr. Alden said in a worried voice.

“I know,” Henry added. “Do you notice what’s missing?”

“The pizza smell,” Benny said in a quiet voice. “There’s no pizza smell.”

This was true. Here they were, right at the door. But the warm, delicious smell of pizza dough⁸, all mixed together with cheese and tomato smells, wasn’t in the air.

When Henry pushed open the creaky door, the little bell on top jingled¹⁰. The Aldens stepped into the dim restaurant just as the twelve-thirty factory clock sounded. It was the middle of the lunch hour, but the Aldens’ favorite pizza place was empty.

Violet pulled her jacket tighter. “It’s chilly¹¹ in here,” she said.

Mr. Alden shivered too. “I wonder why the brick oven isn’t going. Usually it’s warm as toast in here.”

Henry shook the door so the little bell would jingle⁹ again. “Maybe the Piccolos didn’t hear us.”

Finally, an old, white-haired man came out from the kitchen area in back. He looked at the Aldens as if they were strangers. The man almost seemed a stranger, too. But he wasn’t. He was the Aldens’ good friend, Mr. Piccolo, but he seemed much older.

“I’m sorry, but my oven isn’t working today,” the old man said. “But my wife and I can make you a sandwich or salad if you want.”

Watch pulled away from Jessie and went up to the old man. The dog kept on wagging his tail eagerly until the old man noticed whose head he was patting.

“Oh, my!” the man cried. “It’s Watch! And the Aldens! Oh, my, oh my! What a poor day it is when I don’t recognize my old friends!”

Mr. Piccolo pulled his glasses from the pocket of his white apron¹². As soon as he put them on, his face lit up.

Mr. Alden put his hand out for a handshake. “Good to see you, Mr. Piccolo. Sorry we didn’t call ahead from Tom’s garage. We left there in a bit of confusion.”

Mr. Piccolo pulled on one side of his bushy, white mustache. “No apologies, Mr. Alden. You know you and your family can come here anytime.” Then his voice dropped so low the Aldens could hardly hear him. “Well, I guess this is not the best time—no, not the best time at all. But here, sit down. I’ll tell Nina you’re here. She’s trying to coax¹³ the little oven in the empty apartment upstairs to make a pizza.”

Jessie ran out back and tied up Watch in the small back garden. Then she joined her family around their favorite table.

Benny looked around for the basket of crispy breadsticks. The Piccolos always kept them on the table for hungry customers. But there were no breadsticks to be seen. There was a stack of the red-and-white check tablecloths¹⁴ folded on the counter, but the tables were bare.

“I guess Tom was right about something being wrong,” Violet whispered sadly. “There’s no one here but the Piccolos. The tables aren’t even set.”

Henry shook his head. “Something doesn’t add up. That big factory right next door—there must be hundreds of hungry workers in there. Why aren’t they in here?”

“Ah,” Mr. Piccolo answered, when he came back and overheard Henry’s question. “I knew your family would see how things are. Today, well, today is another bad day. So many like this one. So many,” he sighed. “This week it’s the gas line to my oven not working. You know my oven. My father built that oven brick by brick when he came from Italy years ago. Not once did that oven quit. But now? No more gas in it. The builders digging at the factory, they cracked the gas line last week. You think we can make our pizza in a tiny apartment oven upstairs? No! No! No!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Benny cried. “Hi, Mrs. Piccolo.” He smiled at the woman who walked toward them with a tray of pizza.

She set the pizza in front of Benny. “For you,” she said to Benny. After Henry cut the pizza into sections, Mrs. Piccolo frowned. “This pizza—it’s not what you came for. But it’s all we could manage with what I have. Go on. Take a bite.”

The Aldens ate politely. None of them had the heart to tell the truth. This was not Piccolos’ famous hot, crispy pizza. This pizza from the apartment oven upstairs was lukewarm and rubbery. Still, this didn’t matter to the Aldens. Their dear friends had made this food, so they ate every bite.

Mr. Alden put down his napkin. “Tell us, why aren’t you busy as all get out with that big new factory next door? Those workers must get hungry at lunch.”

Mr. Piccolo pulled on his mustache and shook his head. “They are hungry, too hungry for our little place. At first they all came, full of good appetites.”

Mrs. Piccolo fiddled¹⁵ with a thread on her apron. “Then someone put up that gate. It was too far away for people to walk to Piccolos’. When the factory got busier, the owners cut back the workers’ lunch hours. No time for something like pizza. You know our pizza, it takes a long time. No rushing Piccolos’ Pizza!”

Mr. Piccolo stood up and pointed out the front window. “You see all those delivery trucks from the factory? They took all my parking spaces away. Most of our old customers, they don’t have a place to park now. They don’t come so much. Then when Nick got sick and my other waiter left, well, we couldn’t keep up.”

Nick had worked for the Piccolos for many years, and the children were sad to hear he was sick. Especially Violet, who, on their trip through Silver Falls the year before, had helped Nick design new covers for the menus.

“Nick got sick?” Violet asked. “Will he be all right?”

Mr. Piccolo shrugged¹⁶ his shoulders. “We don’t know. He moved out of the apartment upstairs, and after that he called in sick.”

“He was like a son to us,” Mrs. Piccolo said sadly. “And all of a sudden—he just picks up and leaves. And he won’t tell us when he’s coming back.”

Mr. Piccolo began talking. “Things are so slow, maybe Nick, he doesn’t want to come back.”

The Aldens felt sad too. How everything had changed since their last visit! What could they do? How could they help? Even Benny didn’t know what to say. He just stared out the window.

“Hey, who’s that?” Benny cried out. He pointed to the small window that overlooked the kitchen area in back. “There’s somebody looking inside the kitchen! Someone with a red hat.”

Everyone looked up at the same time and saw a red blur¹⁷. Henry and Jessie rushed out to the back garden where Watch was tied up. The dog was straining at his leash¹⁸ and panting.

“Look!” Jessie pointed to fresh footprints in the snow that led right to the window overlooking the kitchen. “Somebody was looking in.”

“That’s the other thing,” Mr. Piccolo said when everyone calmed down. “This is not the first time we’ve seen someone outside, sneaking¹⁹ around the restaurant. I just don’t know what’s going on.”

“Maybe it’s time to retire,” Mrs. Piccolo said sadly. “Just when we should be so busy.”

The Aldens looked around the restaurant.

They remembered happier days and happier meals there.

Jessie said what the other Aldens were thinking. “We’re on vacation for a couple of weeks. Maybe we can help you get busy again, at least until Nick returns.”

“Maybe,” Violet began, “if people can’t come here, we can go to where they are!”

“That’s a great idea!” Henry said. “I could fix up that old bike you used to keep in the shed out back, and once the oven’s fixed²⁰, we could deliver pizzas right to your customers!”

“What do you think, Mr. Piccolo?” Grandfather asked. “Could my grandchildren give you a hand?”

“That would be wonderful!”

Grandfather stood up and headed for the door.

“Mr. Alden, Mr. Alden. Where are you going?” Mr. Piccolo asked.

Mr. Alden winked²¹ at the Piccolos. “Well, Watch and I are going home. That is, after my grandchildren unload their suitcases. I guess the rest of their vacation isn’t going to be so quiet after all.”