The Boxcar Children Mysteries: Books One through Twelve (28 page)

There was a table in the middle of the room. Old papers were on it. There was a fireplace with a brick chimney painted white on one side of the room. There was a desk on the other side. Everything was covered with dust.

“This is the very room where Bill sat reading the paper, Joe,” said Henry.

“The queer grating noise came from this room,” said Jessie.

“Now,” began Henry, “let’s look around and see what
could
make a grating noise.”

“The drawer in the table,” said Alice.

“The drawers in the desk,” said Mr. Alden.

“The boards in the floor,” said Jessie.

“The chimney,” said Benny.

Everyone looked at the strong brick chimney and smiled at the little boy. But Henry said kindly, “That’s right, Benny.”

“We’ll look at every brick,” said Benny.

“Yes,
you
look at every brick,” said Jessie. “You remember the police looked down the chimney with a light, Benny?”

“Yes, I remember, but they looked at the floor boards too, and all the other things you said.”

“That’s right, too,” said Joe. “Now, what’s first?”

“The table drawer,” said Henry, pulling it out. “Not much here.”

“It grates when you pull it,” said Alice.

There were two pens in the drawer, two fish hooks, and an old paintbrush.

“The paint!” shouted Henry.

“I don’t think this is paint, though,” said Joe. He smelled the paintbrush. “I think this is whitewash.”

Everyone was excited. “Maybe we’ll find something new, after all, Grandfather,” said Jessie. “Did the police know this was whitewash?”

“No, I don’t think so,” replied Mr. Alden. “They would have taken the paintbrush with them if they had thought it was a clue. The police did not work as well in those days as they do now. You can take the drawer to pieces if you want. Something may be hidden in the cracks.”

Henry tapped the drawer with his hammer, and soon took off the sides. But there was nothing there.

“The desk next,” said Mr. Alden. “Two drawers in that.”

“Maybe a secret drawer,” said Joe.

They took out both drawers and put them on the table. “A pen. Some old writing paper. That’s all,” said Henry.

“Now, look at the floor boards,” said Jessie. “We can take up the rugs.”

There were two small rugs. Joe looked at them carefully. Then he rolled them up and put them on a chair. The whole family went to work. Mr. Alden sat and watched. Each one took a stick and looked in every crack. Up and down the room they went on their hands and knees.

At last Joe said, “All done. I don’t think these floor boards have been moved. I don’t think the clue is there.”

“Well, then, my chimney!” shouted Benny. “Every, every brick!”

“That will take many days,” said Henry laughing. “First we’ll tap every brick. You all listen and see if any brick sounds different from the others.”

“Let me tap,” said Benny. “I thought of the chimney.”

“Well,” said Joe, “let him tap, Henry. Let me show you, Ben. Tap like this.” Joe struck a brick lightly once or twice.

Benny got down on the floor. He started with the first brick. “Tap. Tap. Tap-tap,” went his hammer. Then he took the next brick. He tapped just the way Joe had shown him. At last the family sat down, smiling. There were so many bricks.

Suddenly Jessie jumped up. “I think that one sounds different!” she said. She got down beside Benny.

“I don’t,” said Henry. “Tap it again, Benny.”

“Tap. Tap. Tap-tap,” went the hammer.

“Well, maybe not,” said Jessie. “I thought it did the first time.”

In a few minutes Violet said, “Listen again to that one! That one sounds different to me.”

“It’s right over the first one, Violet,” said Benny. “Right over the one Jessie heard.”

But it did not sound different to anyone else.

“Go on, my boy,” said Mr. Alden leaning forward. “Keep on tapping.”

The children all looked up at their grandfather. They were surprised to see that he was excited and very white.

Benny began on another row of bricks. Then it was Mr. Alden himself who said, “Stop there! Tap again!”

“That last one
is
different,” cried Joe. “Give me the hammer a minute, Ben!”

But Joe did not use the hammer. He just looked at the brick.

Benny was looking at it too. “Whitewash!” he whispered.

“Whitewash,” said Joe. “I do believe that this brick has been taken out and put back again.”

“Can you take it out, Joe?” Alice asked excitedly.

“I’m going to try,” answered Joe. “We don’t want the whole chimney to come down.”

“Here’s the screwdriver,” said Benny.

“Just what I want,” cried Joe. “Yes, this brick has certainly been taken out!” He put the screwdriver at the edge of the brick and tapped it with the hammer. Out came dried whitewash.

“What did I tell you?” cried Benny. “New whitewash. Not like the old.”

More dried whitewash fell out with every tap of the hammer. “This has certainly been painted to look like the other bricks,” said Joe. “But the whitewash is different.”

“Now pull it out, Joe!” shouted Benny.

Joe took hold of the brick and pulled. It made a queer grating noise, as he worked it out. At last it came out and fell on the floor.

“Look in the hole! Look in the hole!” yelled Benny. “There’s a letter in the hole.”

Joe could hardly believe what he saw. But there was the letter. He took it out and read it.

“What in the world does this mean, Uncle James?” he asked, as he handed it to Mr. Alden.

“Read it aloud!” cried the children.

Mr. Alden read:

Dear Bill,

Thanks for the money. I can make it three times as much if you will help me. Some friends of mine know how. Meet me at your little house in Maine. (Bear Trail) Then you can pay Mr. A. and get your part of the rest
sure.
Look in the tin box. Hide this.

S.M.

“Well, my dears,” said Mr. Alden, “now we have a real mystery.”

Jessie said, “And we don’t know any more than we did.”

“Bear Trail,” said Benny. “I wonder where that is.”

M
r. Alden read the letter again. Then he said, “Jessie, you say we don’t know any more than we did. But I think we do.”

“Right,” said Jessie, laughing. “I think so myself, now. We know there is something up in Maine anyway.”

“Yes, and we know more than that,” said her grandfather. “I had better tell you one other thing. Just before Bill disappeared, he sold two fine race horses for your great-grandfather. But he never paid over the money. He kept saying he would, but he never did. I always thought his brother got it away from him, and Bill went away to get it back. I may be wrong.”

Joe said, “Maybe Bill was afraid to come back without the money.”

“That’s what we thought,” said Mr. Alden. “You see, the week after Bill disappeared, his brother Sam was killed by a car. So he couldn’t help us find Bill.”

“Did Mrs. McGregor know about the race horses and the money?” asked Jessie.

“Yes. Poor Margaret! She never got over it,” answered Mr. Alden. “But she never thought Bill took the money.”

“We know more than that, Uncle James,” said Joe. “We know it has something to do with Bear Trail.”

“Do you know what Bear Trail means?” asked Benny.

“Yes, I went over Bear Trail when I was fifteen years old,” answered Joe.

“So you did, my boy!” cried Mr. Alden. “On that trail you have to go miles in a canoe, and then carry the canoe. You were very strong when you came back from that first trip.”

“I liked it so well that later I was a guide for two years,” said Joe. “But I haven’t seen Bear Trail for a long time.”

“Where is this Bear Trail?” asked Alice.

“Let’s go home,” said Joe for an answer. “I can show you on the map.”

“O.K.” said Benny. “I don’t think we’ll find any more clues in this room.”

When they were driving home, Alice said, “I can’t think what the little house in Maine means. Bill’s yellow house is on Surprise Island.”

“We’ll have to solve the other mysteries first, I guess,” said Henry. “Then maybe we will understand the rest.”

“You all sit on the porch while I get the map,” said Joe, stopping the station wagon at the front steps.

Soon the map was open on the porch table. The children sat around it. Joe began to point with his pen.

“Bear Trail starts from the highway right here,” he said.

“Then you come to a lake. Here it is. There is a camp on this lake. Anyway, there used to be.”

“That’s where the canoe comes in?” Benny asked.

“Right. It’s a beautiful trip. I think I know exactly where to go from here. You paddle the canoe as far as you can. Then you get out and carry the canoe. The woodsmen call that a ‘carry.’ You can go miles and miles this way. You don’t see a house for days.”

Henry looked at his grandfather. Jessie did the same. Everyone on the porch was looking at Mr. Alden as he sat in his easy chair.

“Yes, yes! I know what you want!” he said, smiling and nodding his head. “You all want to go up to Maine and hunt for Bill.”

“Yes, that’s it, Grandfather,” said Benny. “But you always let us do things in summer when there isn’t any school. Joe and Alice want to go too.”

Mr. Alden looked at Joe sharply. “Do you?” he asked.

“Yes, we really do,” said Joe, after looking at Alice. “We both love a mystery. We both love camping and canoeing. Alice is a great paddler in a canoe, and I have two weeks left before I have to go back to work.”

“Well, if you want to spend your two weeks that way, it’s all right with me,” said Mr. Alden at last.

“He means we can all go!” shouted Benny. “Don’t you, Grandfather?”

“I suppose so,” said Mr. Alden. “You’ll have to carry a lot of things with you. Those ‘carries’ are hard work, my boy.”

“Henry’s strong,” said Benny. “He could carry a lot of things. And so could Alice. She’s very strong, too.”

“Well, well! Thank you, Benny,” said Alice, surprised.

“We’ll all be stronger when we get home,” said Henry. “I’ve been wondering what that letter means, Grandfather. Just as Alice said, ‘
Your
little house in Maine.’ His yellow house is on Surprise Island.”