“You gave us our tickets at the gate when we arrived in Yellowstone,” Jessie said to the ranger when she caught up to Henry. “You probably don’t remember us since you see so many people. We have a question about a hike we want to take this morning.”

  “Well, what is it?” the young woman asked.

  Henry took Oz’s guidebook from his jacket pocket. “We want to hike these trails,” he said, showing the young woman the map in the guidebook. “They’re the Lost Cabin Trails, but we want to make sure they’re open. Yesterday we saw a sign saying they were closed.”

  The woman’s hand shook slightly when she picked up Oz’s guidebook. “If you saw a sign, that means those trails are closed. Now I really must go,” she said, leaving the Aldens on the path.

  The children stood there and tried to get the young woman’s attention again.

  “Ranger Crowe!” Jessie called out after remembering the name on the young woman’s name badge. “Would you just tell us why the trails are closed?”

  Ranger Crowe kept right on walking. Finally, without turning around, she yelled out an answer. “Too many fallen trees.”

  Benny sadly took off his bear bells and stuck them in his backpack.

  Jessie put her arm around Benny. “Now, now. Let’s at least check the trailhead. It’s just across that log bridge. I’ll go check.”

  Jessie crossed the bridge. A second later she waved. “Come on over,” she yelled across the bridge. “The trail looks open on this end.”

  A few minutes later, all of the Aldens stood before the faded trailhead sign for the Lost Cabin Trails.

  Henry checked Oz’s guidebook. “This says the trails run eight miles altogether. We have time to go halfway. We have to be back for our jobs by three o’clock. Ready?”

  Everybody but Benny was ready. He was searching for something in his backpack. “Oh, here it is. My trail mix. Just a teeny bit—for energy.”

  Jessie laughed. “Goodness, Benny, we just started out. Make sure to save some for lunch at the top of the mountain.”

  The children were quiet as they made their way up the trail. On the lower slopes, some of the trees were just tall bare black stumps. All their needles and branches had burned in Yellowstone’s big fires a few years before.

  Jessie pointed out dozens of small pine trees growing in some grassy areas right under the burned trees. “These are baby pine trees. After the Yellowstone fires, the pinecones popped open and seeds dropped to the ground. That’s where these little trees came from. Wildfires can help start new forests.”

  In a short time, the children left the area of burned trees. Ahead was a green, woodsy trail. The trail got steeper, so the children were quiet. They saved their breath for climbing.

  About an hour later, they reached the mountaintop. The wind was blowing hard now. The children huddled together for warmth.

  “Whew, look how far up we are,” Henry said, rubbing his arms.

  Benny pointed to a log building way down below. “Hey, is that the lost cabin down there?”

  The other three children laughed.

  “That’s the Old Faithful Inn, Benny,” Violet said. “But you’re right. It does look like a small log cabin from way up here.”

  “Nuts,” Benny said. Then he wriggled out of his backpack straps. “Nuts remind me of my trail mix.”

  The other children sat down to enjoy their trail mix, too.

  “Drink plenty of water,” Jessie advised when Henry went off to check some of the other trails. “Then we’ll have energy for hiking back down. First I have to check Oz’s guidebook. I’d like to take a different trail on our way back.”

  “Goody!” Benny said. “Maybe we’ll see the cabin if we go a different way.”

  Henry gave Benny’s shoulder a friendly squeeze when he returned and overheard this. “I was thinking the same thing. Anyway, I noticed some hikers placed stone markers along one of the other trails. Those will help us out.”

  The Aldens gathered up their packs. They began to hike on a new trail. Going down was tricky. They took careful steps, rock by rock, turn by turn.

  “What’s that creaking—” Jessie asked before a loud crash drowned out her voice.

  The children looked uphill. A large pine branch had fallen just yards away from where they had been hiking.

  Henry studied Jessie’s face without saying anything. They were thinking the same thing. The wind was picking up. More branches fell around them. They needed to get back to the lodge soon.

  “Let’s speed it up, guys, okay?” Henry said. “It’s a little too windy to be out hiking.”

  After a while, the children were relieved to reach a sheltered sandy area. They heard a strange sound coming from underground.

  “What’s that?” Benny asked. “It sounds like Mrs. McGregor’s washing machine.”

  Sure enough, the gurgling and slurping sounded just like a washing machine at slow speed.

  “Mud pots!” Jessie said in an excited voice. “They’re holes in the ground with hot, bubbling mud inside.”

  When the Aldens drew closer to the sound, they saw several holes of steaming grayish mud boiling like a pot of Mrs. McGregor’s stew.

  Jessie put her arm in front of Benny and Violet. “Stand way back here behind the barrier. I don’t want us to wind up taking a mud bath.”

  “Me neither,” Benny said, but he was excited by the idea of a bubbling hot mud bath.

  Henry noticed Jessie checking the old guidebook again. “What’s the matter, Jessie? Is anything wrong?”

  Jessie looked up, her eyebrows wrinkled in worry. “These mud pots shouldn’t be here. I mean, we shouldn’t be here. The guidebook shows that the trails going back to the lodge aren’t anywhere near these mud pots. We’re heading away from the lodge.”

  “Oh, no,” Henry said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Those signs at the top and the trail markers pointed the wrong way.”

  Violet looked up at Henry. “Does that mean we have to hike back up again? There are so many branches falling.”

  “The best thing to do is climb to the top again,” Henry said. “Then we’ll take the same trail down that we hiked up. Now let’s have some more water and trail mix. That’ll give us plenty of energy. But save a little, too.”

  The Aldens started the long climb back up the mountain without saying much. Violet decided to enjoy the sight of the chattering ground squirrels and the colorful wildflowers that grew everywhere.

  Soon Henry noticed birds by a rushing brook. “Look,” he said. “It’s a couple of dipper birds.”

  Soon, all the children were laughing at two silly gray birds dunking their heads over and over into the stream. For a few minutes, the children forgot about the winds blowing everything around and that they still had a long climb ahead.

  The children took deep breaths and began their upward hike again. A half hour later, they reached the top of the mountain.

  “Should we have lunch again?” Benny asked.

  Jessie and Henry looked at each other and shook their heads.

  Jessie took Benny’s hand. “Let’s save room for something at the snack bar. But here’s a sip of water from my bottle. Take some, too, Violet.”

  “Okay,” Benny and Violet said.

  This time Henry and Jessie followed the guidebook trail exactly. No detours.

  After a long while, the wind died down. The children even heard a friendly sound. Bear bells.

  “More hikers,” Jessie said in a happy voice.

  “I like seeing other hikers, too,” Henry confessed. “That means we’re getting closer to the lodge.” He looked through his binoculars to see if the Old Faithful Inn was anywhere in view. “Hey, look at this, Jessie,” he said, handing his sister the binoculars. “Doesn’t that look like Sam Jackson down on the lower part of the trail? He’s sitting down there talking with Ranger Crowe.”

  Jessie focused the binoculars. “It sure does. Let’s go down there. Maybe we can all hike back together. I’d like to get t
o know them better.”

  “I hope Sam is friendlier when he’s hiking instead of working,” Benny said hopefully. “I can offer him some of my trail mix.”

  But Benny never got a chance to offer Sam his trail mix. As soon as Ranger Crowe spotted the Aldens, she stood up from the rock where she and Sam had been sitting.

  “Don’t stop here,” she said to the children. “The trails are dangerous with all this wind. It’s not safe to be hiking here right now. Please keep moving.”

  Henry stopped anyway. “But it’s not windy anymore. Anyway Sam, would you like to hike back with us?”

  Sam Jackson looked at Ranger Crowe, then back at the Aldens. “I’m not by myself. I had a little time off. So I’m . . . uh . . . helping Ranger Crowe clear some fallen branches off the trails.”

  Benny was frozen to the spot. “Hey, what about that other trail, Jessie?” Benny pointed to a path behind the rock where Sam and Ranger Crowe had been sitting. “Maybe it’s a shortcut.”

  Ranger Crowe blocked the path Benny was talking about. “This isn’t a trail. It just goes in a few feet. You have to stay on this main trail. Sam is helping me clear everyone out of here. Please move along.”

  The Aldens didn’t have any choice. If a park ranger said the trails were dangerous, they’d better get going.

  After they had left Sam and Ranger Crowe, the Aldens slowed down a little when they reached a clearing.

  Shortly, the children reached the Old Faithful geyser viewing area. Crowds of people filled the benches and walkways. The lodge porch was packed with geyser watchers, too.

  But one person wasn’t watching the geyser at all. Up on the porch stood someone who had been watching the Aldens ever since they came off the trails.

  CHAPTER 7

  Lost and Found

  At three o’clock sharp, the Aldens reported to the lodge’s laundry room. The huge, warm room was filled with swooshing sounds and soapy smells.

  “I hear a gurgling sound again,” Benny said. “Only this time, it really is washing machines, not mud pots.”

  “Mud pots?” Mrs. Crabtree said when she overheard the Aldens. “Did you go to the Chocolate Pots up over by Gibbon Meadow this morning? I thought for sure you children would be up on the trails breaking in your new hiking boots.”

  “We did see mud pots, but not the Chocolate Pots,” Jessie said. “There are some others near the Lost Cabin Trails. That’s where we were.”

  Mrs. Crabtree put her finger to her lips. “Shhh. I hope my husband isn’t around to hear you say that. He likes to think those are his own private trails. Every summer he spends all the free time he has searching for some silly treasure.”

  Now Benny Alden was a boy who thought treasures were serious business. “But it’s not a silly treasure,” he said. “It’s gold nuggets! And they might be hidden in a cabin. Only the cabin is hidden, too. Nobody can find it—except us, maybe.”

  Mrs. Crabtree patted Benny’s head. “You know, the more I think about it, the more I think you children should be out having fun. This is your vacation time. You should be searching for lost cabins and gold nuggets, not working in this busy lodge.”

  Henry checked the schedule book lying open on Mrs. Crabtree’s desk. “But working at the lodge is fun, too. It’s like being backstage in a play. We get to be guests and workers at the same time. When I go to college someday, I want to spend my summers working here, just like Sam Jackson.”

  Mrs. Crabtree sighed. “Ah, yes, Sam. I wish he’d been placed in one of our outdoor programs, not in the lodge. He spends all his free time, and some work time, too, with one of the rangers. Unfortunately, I need him in here, not outside. Anyway, I sent him to town this morning on an errand.”

  The Aldens looked at each other. They said nothing. It was up to Sam to explain why he had been on the Lost Cabin Trails that morning and not running errands in town.

  “Well, since Sam isn’t here, what chores can we do?” Jessie asked.

  Mrs. Crabtree checked her schedule book. “If you don’t mind getting a little dusty, there’s some room cleaning to do. A tour bus just left, and another one is coming in two hours. It would be a huge help to my staff if you could empty the waste-baskets and vacuum each of the rooms the tour bus guests were in,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “That will give the regular staff more time to do everything else. Take one of those cleaning carts over there and a vacuum cleaner. Here’s a list of the rooms that need immediate attention. Oh, and here are some smocks so you don’t get dusty.”

  Jessie buttoned up her smock. “Okay, troops. All set?”

  “All set,” Henry said. He turned to Mrs. Crabtree. “We’ll make sure to be done by five o’clock. We want to be ready to babysit the guests’ children.”

  Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Thank you for reminding me. Oh, and I’ll have Sam join you. Tonight twelve children are signed up, so I need lots of helpers. Sam said he’d be back from town by then. In fact, I expected to see him a lot sooner.”

  “Back from town?” Jessie whispered to Henry after Mrs. Crabtree left. “Sam was on the trails with Ranger Crowe. I wonder whether he changed his plans.”

  “Or maybe his plans are to change his story,” Henry replied.

  The Aldens pushed their cleaning cart and dragged along the vacuum cleaner to the hall where most of the tour bus guests had been staying. Room by room, they went down the hall, vacuuming and emptying trash into a big barrel on the cart before moving on.

  “This barrel is full,” Henry said after they finished cleaning several rooms. “Let’s take it to one of the Dumpsters in the laundry area. There’s a freight elevator at the end of this hall that goes downstairs.”

  When the Aldens arrived in the laundry room, Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree were there.

  “Now, Lester, don’t tell me you were out hiking alone this morning,” Mrs. Crabtree was telling her husband. “It’s too dangerous to be out on those trails by yourself.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Crabtree,” Henry said. “Hi, Mr. Crabtree. We need to empty this barrel so we can finish cleaning up the last few rooms.”

  Mrs. Crabtree seemed relieved to see the children. “Lester,” she said, turning to her husband again, “if you want help finding that silly treasure, bring the Aldens along. Then you’ll have four extra sets of eyes and some extra voices to keep the bears away. Truly, it worries me so when you hike alone.”

  “Nonsense, Eleanor,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I never get far from the parking lot. Now let me take that barrel from you kids,” he said to the Aldens. “Otherwise Eleanor will have me baby-sitting or entertaining the guests, and I’ll get fired.”

  The Aldens looked at Mrs. Crabtree. She was the boss.

  “Fine, Lester. You can finish the Aldens’ cleanup chores,” she told her husband.

  The Aldens carried the barrel to one of the Dumpsters just outside the laundry room. Jessie opened the side door of the Dumpster for Henry.

  Before Henry had lifted the trash barrel, Jessie noticed a familiar piece of paper. She pulled it from the top of the trash. “Wait, Henry! Look what I found.”

  “Our copy of Oz’s lost cabin map!” Violet cried. “Why is it in the trash?”

  At that moment, Mr. Crabtree came in. “What are you kids up to? You’re not picking through the trash, are you? Shut the Dumpster. We don’t want to attract field mice.”

  Henry banged the door shut. “Sorry. It’s just that we found something we were looking for.”

  When the children turned around, Mr. Crabtree had taken the barrel and dumped it in a second Dumpster.

  “Mr. Crabtree! Mr. Crabtree!” Jessie waved her copy of Oz’s map. “Do you know anything about this?”

  Mr. Crabtree didn’t even turn around. He simply took the barrel and boarded the freight elevator. Before the Aldens could catch up, the doors closed, and Mr. Crabtree was gone.

  “He sure was acting strange,” Violet said.

  “But at least we found our copy of the map,” Jessie said.

  CHAPTER
8

  Hidden Voices

  When the children returned to the laundry room, Sam Jackson had arrived for work.

  Mrs. Crabtree was scolding Sam. “I’m pleased you were able to pick up the shipment of new towels, Sam. But I expected you back sooner. Was there a lot of traffic on the mountain roads?”

  Sam looked at the Aldens, then down at his muddy hiking boots. “Kind of,” he answered. “I’m sorry. I’ll work later tonight in the dining room.”

  For a second Mrs. Crabtree said nothing. Then she took a deep breath. “I needed you this afternoon more than I will tonight. After guests check out, we only have a few hours to clean the rooms before the next guests arrive. Thank goodness I had the Aldens here—and my husband—to finish the housekeeping chores.”

  Now Sam perked up. “But I did a good job cleaning the rooms yesterday, didn’t I?”

  Mrs. Crabtree sighed again. “Of course you did, Sam. You’re efficient when you’re here. But you’re often gone or late. Or something. In any case, every day at the lodge is a new one—new guests, new rooms to clean. Yesterday’s work starts all over again.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sam repeated. “I’ll try to be around more.”

  Mrs. Crabtree checked her schedule book again. “All right, then. In an hour I’d like you to meet the Aldens upstairs for the children’s hour. We have twelve children signed up this evening—six more than last night.”

  Sam looked at the Aldens, then back at Mrs. Crabtree. “I can handle twelve as easily as six.”

  But Mrs. Crabtree was firm. “No, Sam. You’ll need the Aldens, too. Some of the children asked for them as well as you. That’s final.”

  Sam and the Aldens left the laundry room together, but they didn’t stay together. As soon as he was out of Mrs. Crabtree’s sight, Sam left the building.

  “Should we have told Mrs. Crabtree about seeing Sam on the Lost Cabin Trails?” Violet asked.

  “The important thing is that Sam brought Mrs. Crabtree the towels she needed from town,” Jessie said. “Maybe Sam just decided to help out Ranger Crowe on the way back. I guess it’s not our business that he also went hiking.”