The Woodshed Mystery (4 page)
“No potatoes,” said Benny.
They all laughed, and Violet said, “Imagine finding a potato from Revolutionary days!”
“Well,” said Grandfather with a smile, “I can’t say that I remember the Revolution. But we kept potatoes there. And probably that was always the place for potatoes.”
“Maybe the mystery is in the potato pit,” said Jessie. She looked over the edge again.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Mr. Alden. He started to go upstairs. “I lived here a long time. There was nothing in that pit but potatoes.”
“I wonder if the mystery is in the big fireplace in the kitchen,” said Violet. “Let’s look in those ovens.” They went upstairs to the kitchen.
“Let’s get in,” said Benny. It was a fine idea. Benny could get into the ovens and stand up. There was an oven on each side of the fireplace.
But not a clue was to be found.
“Well, I think we had better find that motel,” said Mr. Alden. He looked at his watch. “We will have to have three rooms.”
“Oh, I hope they will take dogs,” said Benny. “Some motels won’t take animals.”
The men had finished washing the floor in the sitting room.
“Oh, how lovely this looks!” cried Jessie. “Wait till we get up some white curtains!”
The men looked at her.
“A fine job, men,” said Grandfather. “When you get through, just walk out. No need to lock the door, so Sim tells me.” He smiled at every man.
“That’s it,” said Henry to himself. “I can see why people enjoy working for Grandfather. He always looks right at them and smiles.”
T
he Aldens found a fine motel. The man said he would take Watch if they tied him up. Watch did not like this at all, but he lay down by the beds.
After breakfast on Sunday morning, Henry said, “The men won’t be working Sunday of course. So this is just the time to go and see that old gun.”
They drove back to the store. The store was shut, but Mr. Morse saw them coming. He went down to let them in.
“I bet you came to see the old gun,” he said. “Come right upstairs. I live alone because my wife died many years ago.”
When they were all sitting down, Mr. Morse went to a shelf and took down a queer gun.
“Well,” said Benny, “that is the funniest looking gun I ever saw. Does it work? Will it shoot?”
“Oh, yes, it will shoot. But I don’t know how to shoot it myself. It is called a flintlock. They used guns like this in the Revolution.”
“I think I know how it works,” said Henry. “Just let me take it a minute. See, here is a pan. You put the gunpowder in that pan. Then here is a flint. The flint makes a spark when you pull this trigger. That sets fire to the powder.”
“I bet it makes a terrible bang,” said Benny.
“Yes, it does. I have read about them. I think the one who shoots it might get hurt himself,” answered Mr. Morse.
Grandfather said, “Elisha, where did you get this gun?”
“I got it from the Bean family. After Andy skipped out, they didn’t want to see this gun. They were going to throw it away. So I said to give it to me. It’s been on that shelf ever since. Going on fifty years! I never clean it any more.”
Then Henry gave the gun to Jessie. She said, “This ought to be in a museum.”
Henry said, “Now who did you say was the oldest person here? Grandpa Cole?”
“I didn’t tell you about Grandpa Cole. Must have been my son.”
“It was Sim’s wife,” said Violet. “She said he was almost a hundred years old. Where does he live?”
“Could we go and call on him?” asked Mr. Alden. He never wanted to waste words.
“Well, you could. He’d sure be surprised. Nobody ever calls on him now. He’s too old. He just talks about the past,” said Mr. Morse.
“Well,” said Grandfather, “we want him to talk about the past.”
“He will,” said Mr. Morse laughing. “Go back on this road, past your own farm, and Grandpa Cole lives in the next house. A little white house with a white fence around it.”
The station wagon was soon on the road again. They went past their own house with the ladders still up on the roof. Then they saw the small white house with the white fence. They all got out.
“I hope we won’t scare him,” said Benny. “So many strangers.”
Mr. Cole was not scared. He was very much pleased. He came out in the yard and told them to sit down on the benches. A nice motherly lady came out and helped him into an easy chair.
“We won’t stay very long, Mr. Cole,” began Grandfather.
“Call me Grandpa,” said the old man.
“Very well.” Grandfather Alden smiled. “We want to ask you some questions, but we don’t want to tire you.”
“You won’t tire me. Stay as long as you can,” said Grandpa Cole. “I don’t get many visitors, and I like visitors.”
“That’s good,” said Benny. “This is very important.”
“What’s that?” asked Grandpa Cole. “Important? What can I tell you?”
Grandfather began again. “I know you have heard the story of the old gun that Andy Bean had.”
“Yep. An old flintlock. He set a big fire with that flintlock, and then he skipped out.”
“Well, this is what we want to know,” said Mr. Alden leaning forward. “Where did that gun come from?”
“Where did that gun come from? Well, that’s easy. It came from the farmhouse you just bought for yourself! Somebody gave it to Andy. Now that’s another story. I don’t know exactly who it was, but it was somebody hiding in your house!”
“Hiding? Why?” asked Benny.
“I don’t know that, and I’m sure Andy’s brother who has the farm doesn’t know either. He wouldn’t talk about it anyway. But I can tell you who does know.”
“Who?” cried everybody at once.
“My brother. He is only 92 years old and I am 99. He was younger than I was, and he would remember better.”
“What is his name?” asked Henry.
“Well, Cole. Only he is John Cole and nobody calls him grandpa.”
“Where is he now?” asked Jessie eagerly.
“In New York. He lives in the city in the winter. He comes up here in the summer. He’ll be here in a few weeks. Maybe in a few days. I lose track of the time.”
Violet said to Jessie, “Maybe he’ll be here when we come up to stay. Then we can ask him. That will be after Aunt Jane comes, too.”
Grandpa Cole didn’t know anything more. But as Henry said, every little bit helps.
The Aldens thought Grandpa Cole was beginning to look tired. It was time to go.
“Well, thank you,” said Mr. Alden. He got up and shook hands with the old man. “The children will come up soon to get the house ready for my sister Jane.”
“Yes, I heard all about it,” said Grandpa. “I hope she gets along all right in that house.” He shook his head.
“We’re going to live there too this summer,” said Benny. “We’re going to visit Aunt Jane.”
“Come and see me,” said Grandpa Cole.
As they rode back to their own farm, Mr. Alden said, “I think we might as well go home now. We can’t do anything more.”
“Don’t you have to talk to Sim and tell the men what to do?” asked Benny.
“No, I told them already,” said Grandfather.
So the family said good-by to their new friends and went back home.
In a few weeks Grandfather had a telephone call that the house was done. Jessie and Violet were ready with curtains for the windows. They had sheets and blankets and towels and lots of other things.
It took many trips to load the station wagon. And when everything was packed in, there was hardly room for Watch to ride along.
John Carter flew out to get Aunt Jane. Sam and his wife, who worked for her, had already started to drive East in their car. Maggie, however, came along with Aunt Jane.
How excited Aunt Jane was when she saw the farm where she had been born. Of course Aunt Jane was really the Alden children’s great-aunt. She and Grandfather were sister and brother.
Tiny and lively, Aunt Jane moved quickly, just as her brother did. Now her cheeks were pink and her eyes danced as she looked around her new home.
“James,” she cried, “you always surprise me. How did you ever get this farm back?”
“Very easily,” said Grandfather. “Nobody wanted it, Jane.”
“Well, I want it,” said Aunt Jane. “I will be very happy here. Maggie will like it, too. And what a fine summer we will have with all the children!”
“And Watch,” said Benny.
The girls and Maggie made the beds, put food in the refrigerator and new dishes in the kitchen. They brought a toaster and a coffee percolator for Mr. Alden.
Sam and his wife arrived. Sam got busy right away. He bought chickens from a neighbor. He fixed up the hen house. The farm became a busy place.
After a week Mr. Alden went back to work. But Aunt Jane, Maggie, and the four children stayed. They felt as if they had always lived on the old farm.
S
oon everyone in town knew the four young Aldens. They went everywhere.
One morning Benny went over to the Bean farm. He met Mr. Bean, Andy’s brother, and Mrs. Bean. They were glad to see Benny and told him to come often. But they never said a word about Andy, the older brother who had run away.
At lunch Benny said, “Here’s something funny. You know the Beans raise eggs.”
“They raise hens, Benny,” said Jessie smiling.
“Well, anyway, they
sell
eggs. And every day about three eggs are gone.”
“How do you know, old fellow? How do the Beans know?” asked Henry.
“Well, Mrs. Bean told
me,”
said Benny.
Violet laughed and said, “Henny Penny told
me.
”
“No, really,” said Benny. “No fooling. You ought to see the list of eggs. They have a paper in the kitchen. It’s on the wall. Every time they put down how many eggs they get.” Everyone waited, smiling at Benny.
Benny went on. “Well, this is how the numbers go: 35 the first day, then 36, 34, 35, 35. You see—always about 35 eggs? Then one day suddenly it’s like this: 32, 31, 33, 31, 30. See? Somebody’s stealing eggs.”
“Imagine that!” said Aunt Jane. “This is a very honest town.”
“A mystery!” said Henry. “The Case of the Stolen Eggs!”
Jessie laughed at Henry’s joke, but Benny was serious.
“We’ve been everywhere in this town except the woods,” said Benny. “Let’s go up to the woods today.”
“Well, you can go if you wish,” said Aunt Jane. “But these woods are not as interesting as the ranch. In the fall you can find nuts. But there is nothing there now except the brook and the old woodshed.”
The boys looked interested just the same.
“Woodshed?” asked Henry. “Why did they put a woodshed so far away from the house?”
“A good question, Henry,” said Aunt Jane, much pleased. “They used to cut down the enormous trees. Then they cut them up right where they fell. They used to fill that woodshed with new wood. Sometimes they left it for a year to season. The woodshed kept the snow off.”
“It burns better when it’s old,” said Benny.
“Oh, much better. Green wood will hardly burn at all.”
The day was hot. The children walked slowly up the hill to the woods.
Violet stopped to pick a few flowers. She said, “Aunt Jane loves flowers.”
The Aldens knew the names of many wild flowers. Violet picked a few pink lady’s-slippers, a jack-in-the-pulpit, and some white foamflowers.
“I see the old woodshed,” said Benny. “It isn’t much.”
“No,” said Jessie. “It’s just a woodshed. Aunt Jane told you that.”
At last they stood in front of the woodshed. They looked at it.
“No windows,” said Benny. “If it had windows it would be a fine playhouse.”
Henry pushed the door open. He looked in. It was dark inside. He looked again.
“This is strange,” he said. “You look, Jessie.”
Jessie put her head in the door.
“Somebody lives here!” she cried.
“Let me see!” shouted Benny. Then they all went inside.
“I don’t see a thing,” said Violet.
“Wait a minute, Violet,” said Henry. “Your eyes will get used to the dark.”
“A table!” cried Benny. “And a bench under it!”
It was true. A small table stood in the corner with a bench under it. On the table were two old plates, a cup, and a fork and spoon.
