Mystery of the Stolen Boxcar
Read Mystery of the Stolen Boxcar Online
Authors: Charles Tang
GERTRUDE CHANDLER WARNER
Illustrated by Charles Tang
ALBERT WHITMAN & Company, Chicago
Contents
CHAPTER
The Newspaper Article
H
enry! Jessie! Violet! Benny!” Mrs. McGregor called across the backyard. She held up a newspaper. Mrs. McGregor was the housekeeper for the Alden family.
Ten-year-old Violet Alden, who’d been playing catch with her six-year-old brother Benny and their dog, Watch, turned around and ran toward Mrs. McGregor.
Their older sister Jessie, who was twelve, and their older brother Henry, who was fourteen, were repairing a bicycle tire nearby. When they heard Mrs. McGregor, they came quickly over.
“Our picture! Our picture!” said Benny excitedly.
Mrs. McGregor handed the newspaper to Henry. Sure enough, right there on the front page was a photograph of all four of the Alden children, and Watch, too. They were standing in front of their old, red boxcar.
Underneath the photograph were the words, “A part of Greenfield history,” and a short article about the Aldens and their boxcar.
The story was one of several articles the newspaper was doing on the history of the town. That was because the anniversary of the founding of Greenfield was coming up.
The town of Greenfield was holding a big Founders’ Day celebration. The Aldens were going to have a special Founders’ Day dinner to celebrate, too.
“Look, Watch!” said Benny. “You’re in the picture! See? Sitting on the stump in front of our boxcar.”
Watch wagged his tail.
“Let’s take this photograph and put it up in our boxcar,” suggested Jessie. “May we have the newspaper, Mrs. McGregor?”
“Grandfather’s not home,” Violet pointed out. “He hasn’t seen it yet.”
Mrs. McGregor smiled. “He knew it was going to be in the newspaper today. He’s planning to buy extra copies. I’m going to cut the picture out of one of the copies and put it on the refrigerator. And you can keep this one.”
“Thank you,” said Jessie.
“Don’t forget, I need you to go to the grocery store for me a little later,” Mrs. McGregor reminded them.
“We won’t,” promised Henry.
“I’ll get some scissors so we can cut the picture and the article out,” said Violet.
“And some tape, too,” Henry said.
Violet walked back to the house with Mrs. McGregor to get the tape and scissors. The others went out to the boxcar and sat on the edge of the open doorway to admire the picture.
“They even put Watch’s name in,” Benny said, smiling. “We’re all famous!”
When Violet came back, she carefully cut out the picture and the article and they put it up in a place of honor on the door of the boxcar. Anyone who came into the boxcar could see the photograph right away.
Jessie returned the rest of the newspaper to the house. As she walked back toward the boxcar, she saw a shiny yellow taxicab pull into the driveway by the house.
A thin man with an enormous mustache that curled up at the ends got out of the cab.
“Little girl!” he called. “Little girl, come here. Where is your grandfather?”
Jessie didn’t like being called a little girl, but she walked politely over to the thin man.
“Wait for me,” the thin man told the taxi driver. When Jessie reached him, he repeated, “Where is your grandfather? I must speak to him!”
“He’s not here,” said Jessie. “But he should be back soon. Our housekeeper, Mrs. McGregor, is here.”
The thin man shook his head impatiently. “She won’t do. She won’t do at all!”
He looked around the Aldens’ yard. Then he stopped. He stared. A smile lit up his face. The ends of his mustache seemed to quiver like the whiskers on a cat.
“Ahhhh,” he said. “There she is!”
“Who?” Jessie looked around, expecting to see Mrs. McGregor or Violet. But she saw no one.
“An excellent, excellent specimen. A real collector’s item. And I, little girl, am a collector!”
Jessie still didn’t know what the man was talking about. “My name is Jessie,” she said.
“Oh! Yes, er, Jessie. Jessie Alden, isn’t it? I just saw your picture in the paper. I rushed right over.”
The man began walking across the backyard toward the boxcar.
Jessie went after him. “Wait a minute,” she said.
The thin man walked on. Watch began to bark.
Henry looked out the door of the boxcar. “Shh, Watch,” he said. He grabbed Watch’s collar and held onto it.
But the man didn’t seem to notice Watch or Henry. Or even Violet or Benny, who had also come to the door.
When he reached the boxcar, the man stopped. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a folded newspaper. It was the same newspaper that had their picture in it.
Holding up the newspaper, the man looked from the picture on the front page to the boxcar and back again.
“What are you doing?” asked Henry.
The man shook his head. “
Not
a very good picture, I’m afraid. Doesn’t do justice to the subject at all!”
“I think we look good!” said Benny indignantly.
The man kept shaking his head. He ignored Benny. “Not a good picture at all.”
Then his smile lit up his face. “But good enough for me to take notice,” he said. “And that’s the important thing.”
He put the newspaper back in his pocket, and threw his arms out wide.
“This beautiful, beautiful boxcar!” he exclaimed. “I must have it. It must be mine!”
The Aldens were so surprised that no one spoke for a moment. Then Jessie stepped around in front of the thin man. He was still staring at the boxcar.
“Excuse me,” she said. “But what
are
you talking about?”
The man lowered his arms. He smiled down at Jessie as if he had noticed her for the first time. “Pardon me,” he said. “My name is Casey Chessy. I am a collector of trains.”
“I have a train set,” Benny said.
The man shook his head impatiently. “No, no, no. Not toy trains.
Real
trains. I collect real trains. . . . May I take a closer look at your boxcar?”
“Of course,” said Henry. The Aldens watched as Mr. Chessy walked all around the boxcar. They stood aside as he climbed up on the stump they used for a front step and went inside.
Mr. Chessy rubbed his hands as he inspected the inside of the old wooden boxcar. He thumped on the walls and peered into the corners. He even examined the ceiling!
Then he sneezed. And sneezed again.
“Gesundheit!” said Benny.
Holding a handkerchief up to his nose as he climbed quickly out of the boxcar, Mr. Chessy said, “You have a very fine boxcar. It is a wooden one, and those are rather rare. The wooden ones had a nasty habit of catching on fire or getting smashed to bits. But this one is in surprisingly fine condition.”
“Thank you,” said Benny. “Do you know a lot about trains?”
“Certainly,” said Mr. Chessy. He backed away from the boxcar and stopped. “I travel by train. In fact, I have my own special railroad car, an old caboose that I have fixed up. I take vacations in it.”
“That sounds like fun,” said Violet.
“My caboose and I arrived in Greenfield late yesterday,” Mr. Chessy went on. “I went out for a stroll this morning and just happened to buy a copy of the local paper. And there it was. This boxcar!”
He rubbed his hands together again. Then he turned abruptly to Henry. “When did you say your grandfather would be home? I have something very, very important to say to him.”
“He’ll be home soon,” said Henry.
Mr. Chessy nodded. “Well, I can wait. It’s not every day I get a chance to buy an old boxcar in as good condition as this one.”
“Buy our boxcar!” Jessie cried. “Is that what you are talking about?”
“Naturally,” answered Mr. Chessy. “Why else would I be here? I told you I collected trains.”
“Not our boxcar,” said Henry firmly.
Mr. Chessy smiled. “Now, now, children, I’m sure your grandfather will be able to buy you a nice playhouse with some of the money I’m going to pay him for this boxcar.”
“Our boxcar is not just a playhouse,” said Jessie.
“And what has Grandfather got to do with it?” asked Henry. “It’s not his boxcar. It is ours!”
“Yours?” Mr. Chessy didn’t like hearing that. He thought for a moment. Then he said, “Well, I’m willing to pay you a great deal of money for your boxcar.”
“It’s not for sale,” said Jessie.
“Not at any price,” said Violet.
“Not even a million, trillion dollars,” said Benny.
As each of them spoke, the smile faded from Mr. Chessy’s face.
He looked from one to the other. “You are being very foolish children,” he said.
“No, we’re not,” said Jessie. “We don’t need lots and lots of money. We have everything we need right here with our grandfather.”
“Foolish children,” repeated Mr. Chessy. “You’ll change your minds.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “This is my card,” he said. “If you call this number, you can always reach me. I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“We won’t change our minds,” said Henry.
“You’ll change your minds,” said Mr. Chessy. “I will have your boxcar. I’ll see to that, one way or the other!”
With that, he marched back to the waiting taxicab and rode away.
A Strange Visitor
H
e can’t have our boxcar, can he?” asked Benny.
“No, Benny,” said Jessie. “It’s our boxcar and we’re going to keep it!”
Henry clapped his hand to his forehead. “Oh, no! I almost forgot. We’re supposed to go to the grocery store for Mrs. McGregor.”
Putting the rather strange Mr. Chessy out of their thoughts for the moment, the children hurried into the house.
“You didn’t forget, did you?” Mrs. McGregor teased.
Henry’s cheeks turned red. “Well, not exactly,” he said. He was glad when Benny spoke up.
“What are we going to get at the grocery store?” Benny asked. “Is it for dessert tonight?” He looked hopeful. Benny was always hungry.
“No, I’ve already made dessert for tonight, Benny,” answered Mrs. McGregor. Her merry eyes twinkled. “But if you don’t like apple pie, I might be able to make something else.”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Benny. “I
love
apple pie.
His brother and sisters laughed. Mrs. McGregor laughed, too. Then she bent over the kitchen table and wrote something else on her grocery list. She picked up the list and handed it to Henry.
Henry folded it and carefully put it in his pocket. He checked to make sure he had enough money for groceries.
Violet asked, “Are we shopping for our Founders’ Day dinner already?”
Mrs. McGregor nodded. “That you are,” she said. “I may not have to begin cooking it yet, but I want to start getting ready.”
“It’ll be like Thanksgiving,” said Benny. “I’m going to get all my favorite foods at one time!”
The four children got their bicycles and rode to town with Watch trotting beside them on his leash. When they got there, the sidewalks and streets were very crowded. So they decided to walk their bicycles along the sidewalk and look in the windows until they got to the grocery store.
Suddenly, Jessie stopped. “Look,” she said. “A parade!”
Henry stopped behind Jessie and read aloud from the sign posted in the window of the hardware store: “‘The Founders’ Day Parade: A Parade to Celebrate the Founding of Greenfield. Come see the parade — or be in it.’”
“Wow,” said Jessie. “That would be great, to be in a parade!”
“I don’t know,” said Violet. “Parades are fun to watch, too.” Violet looked a little worried at the idea of being in a parade. She was very shy.
