Henry had to leave before Eric realized that he had been in his office. He wasn’t sure what he had learned from his detective work. But he knew that when he talked to his brother and sisters, they’d figure out something.
He peeked back into the main room of the print shop, and saw that everyone was kneeling on the floor, picking up the blocks of type that Benny had knocked onto the floor. Jessie caught Henry’s eye and motioned for him to hurry.
Before Eric could turn around, Henry slipped into the room. No one but Jessie even noticed.
A little while later the children were back in their cabin. Henry was telling them what he had found.
“So the old book was Thomas Heathcliff’s journal. I’d love to see what it says,” said Violet. “I wonder why Eric is being so secretive with it.”
“What do you think his notes meant, ‘G. Washington to T. Heathcliff, February, 1780,’”Jessie wondered.
“I don’t know. And I also don’t know why he circled all the old buildings on the map,” said Henry.
“Something strange has happened in each of those places,” said Violet.
“Except for the farmhouse and our cabin,” said Jessie.
“Is Eric trying to destroy Pilgrim Village?” Violet asked, her face sad.
“I don’t know,” said Jessie.
“I hope not,” Violet said. “He seems so nice.”
“We wanted a mystery,” Benny said, “and we got one!”
The children had a picnic lunch with Grandfather on the green. Then they spent the afternoon visiting the little schoolhouse. They sat on hard wooden benches while a woman explained what school was like in the old days. Back then, children of all different ages were in the same class. The littlest children, like Benny, sat in the front row, while the older children, like Henry, were in the last.
Seeing the old school was lots of fun, and it almost made the Aldens forget about the mystery they were trying to solve. But as soon as they returned to their cabin, they remembered. Because in the middle of the table they found something mysterious. It was a note, written in large handwriting with lots of fancy loops and swirls.
“What does it say?” Benny asked when Jessie had picked it up.
“It says,” Jessie began, reading aloud: “‘Meet me tonight at six-thirty at the farmhouse. I have something important to show you. I may be late — please wait for me.’ And it’s signed ‘Eric’”
“Something important,” Benny repeated. “Wow!”
“Could I see it, please?” asked Henry. Jessie handed him the note.
“Do you think this has something to do with Eric’s ‘special project?’” asked Violet.
“Maybe,” said Jessie.
“I don’t know,” Henry said after studying the note. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”
“Do you think we should tell Linda?” asked Violet.
“No, she has enough on her mind right now,” said Jessie. “Let’s wait and see what Eric has to show us first.”
It was already almost six o’clock. The children ate a quick pizza dinner at the snack bar, and then walked to the farmhouse. Eric wasn’t there yet, so they sat down on the front porch to wait for him. Most of the shops in the village had closed for the night, and there weren’t many visitors around.
Soon it began to grow dark. Everything was quiet, and there were shadows everywhere. Far off in the distance an owl hooted.
Benny shivered. “Where’s Eric?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Jessie. “But he said he might be late. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute now.”
Several more minutes passed, and still there was no sign of Eric.
“Do you think he’s coming?” asked Violet.
“Maybe we should stop by the print shop and see if he’s there,” Henry suggested.
So the children walked slowly around the green to the print shop. But when they got there they saw that the lights had been turned off, and the door was shut tight. The sign in the window said “Closed.” There was no sign of Eric.
“Oh, well, let’s go back to our cabin. We can come here tomorrow and ask Eric what he was planning to show us,” Jessie said sensibly.
“Good idea,” Henry said.
As they walked back to the cabin, Henry grew quiet. Suddenly he turned to Jessie. “Let me see that note again.”
Jessie handed him the note, and Henry looked at it quickly. “That’s what’s wrong. This isn’t Eric’s handwriting.”
“It isn’t? How do you know?” asked Benny.
“I saw his notes about Thomas Heath-cliff’s journal,” Henry reminded them. “Eric’s handwriting was small and messy. This handwriting is big and fancy.”
“Are you saying you don’t think Eric wrote this note?” asked Jessie.
“That’s right,” said Henry. “Someone else did. Someone who wanted us to be at the farmhouse tonight.”
“But why?” Violet wanted to know. “Nothing was happening there.”
The children walked along, trying to think of an answer to Violet’s question.
Suddenly Jessie stopped walking. “Maybe this has nothing to do with the farmhouse.”
The others stopped walking also, and looked at her.
“What do you mean, Jessie?” Violet asked slowly.
“Maybe someone just wanted to get us out of our cabin!” Jessie exclaimed.
The children all stared at her for a minute, and then realized what that meant.
“Oh, my gosh,” exclaimed Violet.
“Let’s go!” Henry cried out.
The children took off, running as fast as they could back to their cabin.
When they got there, it was just as they had feared. The door of the cabin was open slightly. Someone had gone inside while they were away.
Henry quickly lit the lantern. When he saw the state of the cabin he gasped and stepped backward.
“What is it?” Jessie asked. Then her mouth dropped open as she saw what had made Henry gasp.
The cabin was a complete mess. Someone had turned over all the furniture, torn the sheets and quilts off the bed, and dumped everything on the floor.
“Oh no,” Violet said. “Who could have done such a terrible thing?”
CHAPTER 9
Who Wrote the Note?
The Aldens had no idea who would have made such an awful mess in their cabin.
“Should we go inside and clean it up?” Benny asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“I think we’d better go tell Linda first,” said Jessie.
The Aldens went next door to Linda’s office. She was sitting at her desk, working on a pile of papers. She glanced up and motioned to the children to come in, before going back to what she was working on.
“I’m just finishing a letter I was writing,” she said without looking up. “I saw you in the little schoolhouse. Did you enjoy it?”
Their visit to the schoolhouse seemed very long ago to the children.
“Yes,” Henry said. “But something awful has happened since then.”
Linda looked up quickly. Now she saw the serious expressions on the children’s faces. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“It started with this note,” Jessie began, handing the note to Linda.
She read it quickly and then looked up. “Yes?”
“We went to the farmhouse to meet Eric, but he never showed up. So we went back to our cabin.” Jessie took a deep breath, trying to think of a gentle way to break the bad news to Linda.
But before she could, Benny burst out, “And it was wrecked!”
“Benny!” Jessie said.
“Well, it was,” Benny insisted.
“Wrecked?” Linda repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Someone sent us this note to get us out of our cabin,” Henry explained. “And while we were gone, they came in and turned over all the furniture.”
“They took the sheets and blankets off the beds and everything!” Benny said.
?
??It looks the way the weaver’s shop looked yesterday,” Violet said.
Linda shook her head. “I’d better go see,” Linda said grimly, getting up from her desk and leading the way back to the cabin.
Linda was just as stunned as the children had been when they entered the cabin. “This is awful! Who would do such a thing?” She sighed heavily.
“Whoever did it sent us the note to get us out of the way,” Jessie explained.
“Wait a minute,” Linda said. “Isn’t the note from Eric?”
“That’s what it says on it,” Henry said. “But that’s not Eric’s handwriting.”
“Let me see that note again,” Linda said. Jessie gave it to her, and Henry handed her the lantern. She looked at it briefly. “You’re right. Eric’s handwriting is so messy I usually can’t even read it. When he leaves me messages I never know what they say.” Linda looked up. “But if this note isn’t from Eric, then who is it from? And why does it say Eric on it?”
“Someone wanted us to think Eric had written it,” Violet said.
Linda looked around the messy cabin and sighed again. “Now what?” she muttered to herself.
Just then they heard a knock on the front door, and Grandfather poked his head in. “Hello!” he called out, a big smile on his face. But as soon as he saw the mess inside the cabin, his smile disappeared. “What happened here?” he asked.
Henry quickly explained.
“I think it’s time to call the police, Linda,” Grandfather said. “These ‘pranks’ — or whatever you want to call them — have gone far enough.”
“But if people hear about what’s going on and see the police here, it will be terrible for Pilgrim Village,” Linda said. “I just don’t know what to do.”
The Aldens felt sorry for Linda. She looked so sad.
“For starters, we’ll clean up in here,” Jessie said, “and we’ll see if anything is broken, or missing.”
Linda smiled weakly. “You kids are great. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Linda and the Aldens began to straighten up the cabin. Violet picked up the things that were on the floor, while Henry and Grandfather set the furniture upright. Jessie and Benny made the beds with fresh linens. Linda checked to make sure that nothing was broken or missing.
At last things were back in order. “The good news is nothing was stolen,” Linda said after she’d checked everything. “Whoever did this just wanted to cause trouble.”
“I have another idea,” said Violet. “Maybe they were looking for something. Did you notice that some of the loose stones in the fireplace were pulled out?”
“What would they be looking for?” Linda wondered aloud.
“If anyone can get to the bottom of a mystery, my grandchildren can,” said Grandfather. “But right now, I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” Grandfather tucked one arm around Benny and the other around Violet. “I think all of you should come back to the hotel with me.”
“Good idea, James,” said Linda. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast at the tavern.”
After Linda left, the Aldens gathered their suitcases and went with Grandfather back to his hotel. The whole way there they talked about all the mysterious things that had been happening at Pilgrim Village, and wondered who was to blame.
“I’ve been thinking about what Linda said,” Jessie said. “She didn’t want to call the police because she was afraid the bad publicity for the village would frighten visitors away. Maybe that’s what someone wants.”
“I don’t know,” Henry said. “I think the person is looking for something. And I think Thomas Heathcliff’s journal may be the clue.”
“What’s this about Thomas Heathcliff’s journal?” Grandfather asked.
“We saw Eric reading it, but he didn’t seem to want us to know what it was,” Violet explained.
“I see,” Grandfather said. “Well this mystery solving is too much for me. I’ll leave it to you young people.”
They were almost at the hotel when Benny felt some raindrops sprinkling on his face. Soon the other Aldens also noticed that it was drizzling.
“They’ve predicted a big storm for tonight,” Grandfather said. “We’d better hurry if we don’t want to get soaked.”
No sooner had he said that than there was a crash of thunder and rain began pouring down on them. “Hurry!” Henry called out, motioning to the others.
They all ran as quickly as they could. But they were still soaking wet by the time they reached the hotel. The children stood in the lobby shivering while Grandfather arranged for the children to have the two rooms across the hall from his.
A little while later the Aldens were warm and dry, Grandfather in his room, Henry and Benny in another room, and Jessie and Violet in the third. They had all taken hot baths and changed into warm, dry pajamas, before slipping into their beds. They fell asleep to the sound of raindrops pattering on the windows.
CHAPTER 10
Benny Saves the Day
When the children woke up they were happy to see that the rain had stopped, and the day was bright and sunny. They dressed in their colonial costumes before meeting Grandfather in the lobby. Together they walked back to the village to have breakfast at Red’s Tavern.
“We’ve been so busy thinking about this mystery, I’d almost forgotten that we’re going home tomorrow,” Henry pointed out.
“We are?” asked Benny.
“Yes. We’ve been here a week,” Grandfather said.
“Then we’ve got to solve this mystery today!” said Violet.
“I thought we had more time,” Benny said. “I’m going to miss this place.”
“What will you miss most?” Jessie asked.
Benny thought for a moment. “The horses.” They had just reached the village. Benny grabbed Grandfather’s hand and tugged on it. “Grandfather, can I go visit the horses right now?”
“Before breakfast?” Grandfather asked.
“Just for a few minutes,” Benny said. “Please?”
“All right,” said Mr. Alden. “Don’t stay too long though.”
Benny ran off immediately, his three-cornered hat bouncing up and down on his head. The other Aldens smiled as they looked after him, before heading to the tavern for breakfast.
Benny reached the stable a few minutes later. Because of the rainstorm the night before, the yard was full of mud, and there were lots of loose stones where the dirt had been washed away. Benny ran ahead, eager to see the horses.
All of a sudden, he slipped on some mud and fell down.
“Ouch!” Benny muttered as his knee hit something sharp. He looked to see what he had landed on. It felt much sharper than a rock.
“There it is,” Benny said to himself. Something dark and pointy stuck up out of the muddy ground. Benny looked closer.
He’d thought it was a rock, but now he saw that it was metal. It looked like the corner of a box.
“Oh, my gosh!” Benny cried out. “Buried treasure!” On his hands and knees, Benny began furiously pushing the dirt away from the metal box. As he dug down deeper, the dirt became too densely packed to move with his bare hands. Benny looked around. Off to one side of the stable he found a large flat stone that he could use as a shovel.
At last Benny managed to uncover the square metal box. But he was very disappointed when he saw that the box was shut tight with a large metal lock.
“Wait until Henry and Jessie and Violet see this!” he cried, picking up the box and running all the way to the tavern.
Meanwhile, Linda and the Aldens were beginning to wonder what had happened to Benny.
“He certainly wouldn’t miss breakfast,” Jessie said.
“Not our Benny,” Violet agreed.
At just that moment, Benny ran in, out of breath and covered with mud.
“Look at you!” Henry said.
“What have you been up to?” asked Jessie.
Then the Aldens saw the box Benny was carrying.
&n
bsp; “What’s that?” Violet asked.
Benny had almost caught his breath. “It’s buried treasure,” he gasped. “I found it in the stable yard!”
Linda and the Aldens gathered around Benny, who placed the rusty old box on the table.
“Well would you look at that,” Linda said, almost to herself.
“What do you think is inside?” Violet asked.
“Only one to way to find out,” said Jessie.
“But it’s locked,” Benny said.
“That lock looks pretty rusty and weak to me. All we need is a hammer to pry it off,” said Henry.
“There’s one in my office,” Linda said.
“What have you got there?” asked Red, who had just come out of the kitchen. He was looking at the box with great interest.
“Buried treasure!” cried Benny.
“I don’t know, Red,” said Linda. “Benny just found this in the stable yard, and we’re going back to my office to find out what it is. Join us if you’d like,” Linda said.
Red looked around the tavern, which was unusually empty. “Things seem pretty quiet here. I think I will join you.”
With Benny carrying the box, Linda led the group back to her office. She got out her hammer and placed the back end of it in the lock and pushed down hard. Slowly, slowly, the weak, rusty metal lock began to give. At last it snapped off.
She pushed the box toward Benny. “It’s your treasure.”
Benny lifted the top of the metal box. But when he saw what was inside, he was disappointed. “There’s no treasure in here. There’s just a piece of paper.” He lifted a folded, yellowed piece of paper from the box.
“That’s not just a piece of paper,” a voice said.
Everyone looked up. Eric had just come in and was peering around the group at what Benny was holding. “It’s a map,” he said.
“A treasure map?” Benny asked excitedly.
“Not the kind you’re thinking of,” Eric said, “but the map itself is a treasure. A very old, historic treasure.”
Carefully Benny unfolded the piece of paper. Eric was right. It was a map.