“Are we sure about that?” Henry asked.

  “That’s right!” Violet said. “We didn’t see his room.”

  “He could have lied about it to throw us off the track,” Henry added.

  Benny laughed. “We weren’t even on the track!”

  “Bob didn’t know that,” Henry reminded him.

  “But what about the notes?” Violet asked. “Janet Muller could have traced Melody’s signature from her autograph book. How would Bob have written it?”

  Henry had an explanation. “Bob manages the orchestra; he probably has copies of all the musicians’ signatures in his files.”

  This was an important development. They decided to tell Grandfather Alden about it.

  “Let’s go to the hotel and wait for him,” Violet suggested. “He said he’d try to get there early. He wants to have dinner before the dining room gets too crowded.”

  On the way to the hotel, they continued their discussion.

  “Bob could easily have taken the score from Victor’s room,” Jessie said.

  “Anybody could have done that,” Benny argued. “Victor never locks his door.”

  “But no one would be alarmed if they saw Bob in the room,” Henry said. “It’s his job to take care of the orchestra members.”

  “You know what I don’t get?” Soo Lee said. “If Bob had the music, why did he mess up Victor’s room?”

  That was something no one understood.

  They weren’t at the hotel long when Victor, Bob, and Melody came in. They stood near the door discussing the next night’s performance.

  A desk clerk approached, carrying a large brown envelope. “Excuse me, Mr. Weldon,” he said.

  Bob snapped, “Can’t you see I’m busy?” and waved him away.

  The clerk backed off.

  “Maybe I could help,” Henry offered.

  “Thank you,” the man said. “Perhaps you could talk to Mr. Weldon.” He held up the package. “He asked us to send this out, but we can’t read his handwriting. All we can make out is Paris, France.”

  “Paris!” Benny repeated.

  The Aldens looked at one another. They were all wondering the same thing: What was Bob Weldon sending to Paris?

  The clerk handed the envelope to Henry and went behind the desk.

  “Why are you sending something to Paris, Bob?” Benny asked, his voice loud with excitement.

  Bob grabbed at the envelope. But it was too late. Benny spoke up again. “Why don’t you just take it with you? You’re going to Paris tomorrow.”

  Bob glared at Benny.

  Melody’s mouth dropped open.

  Victor looked hard at Bob. “What’s this about Paris?”

  “I — uh — ” Bob stammered. His eyes darted around as though he were looking for a place to hide.

  “He has a plane ticket to Paris,” Jessie said. She explained what she had found in Bob’s room.

  Victor nodded. “I see,” he said. He seemed surprisingly calm. He turned to Bob. “Open that package, Bob. Let’s see what’s in it.”

  “It’s nothing,” Bob said. “A letter!”

  “Bob,” Victor repeated.

  “Oh, all right. Here.” Bob handed the envelope reluctantly to Victor. Then he sank to a nearby chair and put his head in his hands.

  Victor turned the brown envelope over. Slowly, he tore the tab on the back. The envelope was open. Victor reached in carefully and pulled out … the missing Mozart score!

  CHAPTER 15

  Two Confessions

  Everyone stared at Bob Weldon. They were too stunned to speak.

  Finally, Victor said, “I thought you were up to something.” He looked sad and disappointed. “But I can’t figure out where you found the score. If I couldn’t find it, and I’m the one who hid it …” His voice trailed off.

  Bob let out a hollow laugh. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy!” He got to his feet. “I didn’t plan this,” he said and began to pace. “You’re the one who gave me the idea.”

  Victor boomed, “I gave you the idea? That’s ridiculous!”

  “Ridiculous? That’s what I thought when you couldn’t find the score. How could anyone — even you! — be that forgetful?”

  “I have a lot on my mind,” Victor mumbled in defense.

  Bob ignored him. “I decided then to teach you a lesson. I would find the score and hide it.”

  “By sending it to Paris?” Benny asked.

  “That idea came later. Why not take it and sell it? I thought. Serve everybody right. Who’d guess I did it? No one ever says thank you or notices anything else I do — unless something goes wrong. Then I get blamed.”

  “Oh, Bob,” Melody said. “We couldn’t get along without you.” She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he shrugged her off.

  “You may know that,” he said to her. “Does anyone else? Does the great Victor Perrelli know it?”

  Victor eased into a chair. “I know it,” he murmured. “I just forget to say it.”

  “I contacted a dealer in Paris,” Bob continued. “He offered me a lot of money. I’d be rich! Have an easy life. No more fetching and carrying for people who don’t appreciate it.”

  “Where did you find the score?” Henry asked.

  “I didn’t. Not at first. I searched everywhere in Victor’s room. Nothing.”

  “So you wrote the notes,” Soo Lee said.

  “Only one note — to Victor. I lied about receiving one myself.”

  “And your room wasn’t ransacked,” Violet concluded.

  “I lied about that, too,” Bob told her. “And then, Victor, you gave me your tuxedo to have cleaned.”

  Victor nodded. “Yes, I remember that.”

  “The score was in it!” Bob said.

  “Yes, yes,” Victor responded. “I remember now. I put it in the inside pocket.”

  “So there it was! I decided to mail it to the dealer. The sooner it was out of the country the better. Then, tomorrow, I’d follow.” Bob sank into the chair beside Victor. “You musicians are so talented,” he said. “And everybody appreciates what you do. I have only one talent: organization. A thankless job.”

  “But a necessary one,” Victor told him.

  Bob murmured, “This orchestra has been my whole life.” He covered his face with his hands. “I am so sorry.”

  After a tense silence, Benny turned to Melody. “What I want to know,” he said, “is who was that strange man you met in the town square, Melody?”

  Melody’s face reddened. She glanced at Victor, then looked away. “I — I — ” She couldn’t seem to find the words.

  Victor came to her rescue. “I think I can explain that. Melody has been feeling somewhat unappreciated, too. Am I right, my dear?”

  “Well, it’s just that the schedule is so … hectic,” Melody explained. “I never seem to have time to think. I’ve been afraid that my music would suffer because of the pressure.”

  “You play like an angel,” Victor assured her.

  She smiled. “Thank you, Victor. Perhaps it’s just performance jitters.”

  “But who was that strange man?” Benny asked again.

  “He conducts another orchestra — one that tours less. He offered me a job,” Melody explained. “I met him to give him my resume. He gave me information about his orchestra.”

  “Is that all?” Benny said.

  Melody chuckled. “Did you think the score was in that envelope, Benny?”

  Benny was embarrassed. He didn’t want Melody to know that he had suspected her. He opened his mouth to explain but nothing came out.

  Violet spoke up. “Soo Lee and I never thought you had stolen the score, Melody.”

  “Violet’s right,” Soo Lee agreed. Then she asked, “Are you going to take the job, Melody?”

  “That is the most important question I’ve heard today,” Victor said. He took a step toward Melody. “Don’t keep an old man waiting. What is your answer?”

  Melody laughed. “Oh, Victor
, you know the answer. How could I leave you and the orchestra?”

  “What about all the touring?” Henry wanted to know.

  “Well, if we didn’t tour, I never would have come to Greenfield,” Melody said. “And, most important, I never would have met the Aldens.”

  Victor hugged her. He and Melody laughed and cried at the same time. Then they hugged the Aldens. Before long, the tears were gone and only the laughter remained.

  Suddenly, Benny noticed that Bob Weldon was heading for the elevators. “Bob’s leaving!” he said urgently.

  “Let him go,” Victor said.

  “But aren’t you going to call the police?”

  Victor shook his head. “Bob has made his own punishment. He will no longer be with the orchestra.”

  “And word spreads fast among musicians,” Melody added. “He will never work with another orchestra.”

  Just then, Mr. Alden came into the lobby. Smiling broadly, he shook hands with Victor and Melody. To his grandchildren, he said, “I’m sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from the mill. I hope you haven’t been bored waiting.”

  The Aldens, Victor, and Melody smiled at each other.

  “We kept busy,” Henry told him.

  “That’s my grandchildren, all right,” Mr. Alden responded proudly. “They never waste a minute.” Then, he invited Victor and Melody to have dinner with them.

  “I’d like that,” Victor said. “I am very hungry.”

  “Me, too,” agreed Benny, and he led the parade into the dining room.

  CHAPTER 16

  The Sounds of Music

  Violet awoke early. By the time her family came down for breakfast, she had poured juice and made coffee for Grandfather.

  “I wish I could be there for your rehearsal,” Mr. Alden told her, “but I have to work this morning.”

  Violet was relieved. Having Mr. Alden in the audience during rehearsal might make her more nervous than she already was. “That’s all right, Grandfather,” she said. “You’ll hear us play at the concert.”

  He finished his coffee and toast. “Good luck then,” he said and started out. At the door, he turned back. “And the rest of you, no more mysteries. Hear? You’ve solved enough for one week.”

  They knew Grandfather was teasing. Last night, after they had told him all that had happened, he said, “You children attract mysteries the way a magnet attracts iron.” But they knew he was proud of them for having solved this latest puzzle.

  The Aldens joined the stream of young people flowing into the auditorium. Inside, Melody was directing them to their places on stage. Excitement filled the air.

  Violet didn’t seem at all nervous as she took her seat. She smiled to the string players near her and took out her violin.

  One by one, the young musicians began to tune their instruments. Before long, the theater was vibrating with sound.

  Benny put his hands over his ears. “It’s hard to believe they can sound so good later when they sound so awful now,” he said.

  “I like to hear them tune their instruments,” said Jessie.

  Henry agreed. “It’s exciting. It gets me ready to listen.”

  “I’m already ready,” Benny said.

  The first attempts were not good. Melody stopped the orchestra every few bars.

  “Keep together,” she instructed gently.

  Time and time again they started and stopped. Finally, they made it through an entire piece. After that, it seemed to get easier and sound better. By lunchtime they had played the entire program.

  “Not bad for a first run-through,” Melody said. She told them to return late in the afternoon. Then, she dismissed them.

  Early that afternoon, the adult orchestra held their final rehearsal. Later, it was the young people’s turn once again. Then, it was home to prepare for the big concert.

  “I’ve never been to a real concert before,” Benny said. “I don’t know what to wear.”

  “Your party best,” Jessie told him.

  Mr. Alden was the last one downstairs. He wore a tuxedo and a stiff white shirt.

  “You look very handsome,” Violet told him.

  He smiled. “It seems to run in the family,” he said as he admired his grandchildren.

  The Aldens had front row seats. As the auditorium filled, Benny kept looking around.

  “There won’t be a seat left,” he said.

  “You’re right,” Grandfather told him. “The house is sold out.”

  The orchestra filed in and took their places. The audience hushed. Finally, the great Victor Perrelli entered. Everyone clapped. Victor bowed, then turned his back to the audience. He tapped for attention, paused, and raised his baton. Every eye was on him, waiting expectantly.

  “Start the music,” Benny whispered.

  With a sharp downbeat, Victor did just that. The orchestra came to life. Victor swayed to the music, pointing to one section and then another. His baton was a magic wand, making all the different instruments sound beautiful together.

  At intermission, the Aldens went out to the lobby. Mr. Alden stopped to visit with some old friends. The children went over to the display case to look at the Mozart score.

  “Mozart’s music is so beautiful,” Violet said.

  Janet Muller came up beside them. “I see the score is back.” She looked around as if to be sure no one was listening. Then, she leaned in close. “Do you know who took it?”

  Jessie was about to answer when Victor came into the lobby. Seeing the children, he hurried over.

  Janet’s hands fluttered nervously. “Oh, my. Oh, dear,” she said. “There’s the maestro.” She stepped away as Victor approached.

  It was nervous behavior like this that had made the Aldens suspect she was the thief.

  “I haven’t had the chance to thank you for all you’ve done this week,” Victor told the Aldens.

  “We were happy to help,” Henry said.

  “We like solving mysteries,” Benny piped up.

  Victor laughed. “You’re very good at it.”

  Benny waved that away. “We’ve had lots of practice,” he said.

  Still laughing, Victor drifted off. Awestruck, Janet watched him go. “What a talented man,” she said. “I have to go sit down — being around great stars like him makes me a bit light-headed.”

  The last mystery was solved. Janet wasn’t nervous because she wasn’t hiding anything. She was just starstruck.

  The second half of the concert was even better than the first. Melody’s solo was a showstopper. At the end of the performance, the audience rewarded the orchestra with ten full minutes of applause.

  At the reception afterward, Victor looked sad.

  “That was a wonderful performance,” Mr. Alden said to him. “You should be very proud.”

  “The orchestra played flawlessly,” Victor responded. “The praise is theirs. I’m just sorry Bob couldn’t be here.”

  It was clear that Bob Weldon was not the only one who would suffer because of his actions.

  The Aldens left the reception early so that Violet could get a good night’s rest. But she had trouble sleeping. Long after the others were in bed, the sweet strains of violin music drifted through the house.

  In the morning, Benny brought his bear down to breakfast. Made from old stockings, it had been with him since their boxcar days. “I thought you might like to take Stockings, Violet. For luck.” He held out the bear to his sister.

  Violet was pleased. “Oh, Benny,” she said, “that is so nice. But there’s no place to put him onstage.”

  Benny wasn’t the least bit disappointed. He had already thought about that. “You could put him in your violin case.”

  “But our instrument cases will be in a room offstage.”

  “That’s okay,” Benny assured her. “It’ll still work.”

  Soo Lee and her parents, Joe and Alice, were waiting in the lobby. One by one, the Aldens gave Violet a hug and wished her well.

  Victor and Melo
dy ushered the young musicians and their families into the auditorium.

  “Come, children,” Victor said, “and we will make beautiful music together.”

  Janet Muller rushed up to the door. She thrust an open book and a pen under Violet’s nose. “Would you please give me your autograph, Violet?” she asked shyly.

  Violet was surprised. “You don’t want my signature,” she said. “I’m nobody famous.”

  Janet said, “Who knows … ”

  Victor, Melody, and the Aldens chimed in, “ … Maybe one day.”

  Violet smiled as she signed her name. After the n in Alden, she drew a graceful flourish.

  About the Author

  GERTRUDE CHANDLER WARNER discovered when she was teaching that many readers who like an exciting story could find no books that were both easy and fun to read. She decided to try to meet this need, and her first book, The Boxcar Children, quickly proved she had succeeded.

  Miss Warner drew on her own experiences to write each mystery. As a child she spent hours watching trains go by on the tracks opposite her family home. She often dreamed about what it would be like to set up housekeeping in a caboose or freight car—the situation the Alden children find themselves in.

  When Miss Warner received requests for more adventures involving Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny Alden, she began additional stories. In each, she chose a special setting and introduced unusual or eccentric characters who liked the unpredictable.

  While the mystery element is central to each of Miss Warner’s books, she never thought of them as strictly juvenile mysteries. She liked to stress the Aldens’ independence and resourcefulness and their solid New England devotion to using up and making do. The Aldens go about most of their adventures with as little adult supervision as possible—something else that delights young readers.

  Miss Warner lived in Putnam, Connecticut, until her death in 1979. During her lifetime, she received hundreds of letters from girls and boys telling her how much they liked her books.

  The Boxcar Children Mysteries

  THE BOXCAR CHILDREN

  SURPRISE ISLAND

  THE YELLOW HOUSE MYSTERY

  MYSTERY RANCH