The Mystery of the Spider's Clue
Jessie was curious, too. “Why didn’t he just name somebody in his will?”
“I bet the millionaire liked mysteries,” Benny guessed, his eyes shining. “Maybe he wanted everyone to have some fun trying to solve one.”
“You’re a smart young man, Benny,” said Thomas with a slow smile. “Not many people would’ve figured that out.”
Benny smiled.
Sam put down his teacup and looked at each of the Aldens in turn. “I was wondering if you’d like to tackle this mystery for me,” he said. “I’d try to solve it myself, but I can’t get around much right now. It takes me a long time to walk anywhere.”
The children didn’t have to think about it. “We’d be happy to solve it for you,” Henry said in an excited voice.
“Great!” Sam was pleased. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Sam often tells me about the Alden adventures,” said Thomas as he reached for another cookie. “And I love to hear about them. I quite enjoy a good mystery.”
“Thomas is a big mystery fan,” Sam told them. “Always has been.”
Thomas laughed. “I’ve had a soft spot for mysteries ever since I was a kid,” he confessed. “Even now, I like to hide a bit of candy somewhere in the house when my grandchildren come to visit. I make a list of codes and clues to help them track it down.”
That sounded like fun to Benny. “Your grandchildren must really like visiting you.”
“I think they do,” said Thomas.
Suddenly Jessie had a thought. “What happens if nobody finds the code word?” she asked Thomas. “What happens to the inheritance?”
“According to my client’s will, if no one solves the mystery the money goes to his relatives.”
Henry had a question, too. “Do you think the millionaire knew the people he sent invitations to?” he asked. “Or did he just pick their names out of the phone book?”
Thomas smiled mysteriously. “We may never know the answer to that.”
The Aldens exchanged glances. Why was Sam’s old friend being so vague?
As if reading their minds, Thomas quickly added, “I drew up the will, but my client didn’t tell me much else. He requested that the invitations be sent out after his death, and his butler did that. I didn’t even know Sam was on the mailing list until he called today. I know the code word, of course,” he went on. “And I know that the first person to come up with it by July twelfth will inherit a nice sum of money. But I’m afraid that’s all I know.” Thomas glanced at his watch. “I don’t like to rush off, but I do have another appointment.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Sam. “I appreciate your stopping by.”
Thomas stood up. “You know, those cookies bring back a lot of memories. When we were kids, we used to eat cookies until they were coming out of our ears!” Thomas had a faraway look in his eyes. “We did everything together back then. Why, we were like the Three Musketeers—Sam and Simon and I. Do you remember the way little Pinky used to follow the three of us around, Sam? Whenever we—”
“The past is best forgotten!” Sam suddenly broke in, giving Thomas a hard look.
Everyone seemed surprised by Sam’s harsh tone. Why was he getting so upset about the past? And who were Simon and Pinky?
Thomas looked as if he wanted to argue with his old friend, but he didn’t. There was a strained silence until Mrs. McGregor finally spoke up.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the cookies, Thomas,” she said, trying to change the subject. “They’ve always been a great favorite around the Alden house.”
Thomas gave Mrs. McGregor a warm smile. Then he said good-bye and left.
Sam lay back on his pillows. He did not look one bit happy.
“You seem tired, Sam,” Mrs. McGregor commented. “Perhaps we should be going, too.”
Benny’s eyes widened in alarm. “But what about the clues?” he cried. “We can’t go before we open the other envelope!”
“Right you are,” said Sam, stirring himself. He reached for the second envelope from the coffee table. “Would you like to open it for me, Benny?”
“Sure thing!” Benny jumped from the stool and took the envelope from Sam. Everyone held their breath as Benny opened it and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
“Oh!” Benny exclaimed, his eyes widening as he unfolded the paper. “It’s a poem!” He held it up for everyone to see.
“Would you like me to read it, Benny?” Violet asked. The youngest Alden was just learning to read.
Benny passed the poem to his sister.
Violet cleared her throat, then she read aloud:
When the sheep in the meadow
And the cow in the corn
Do a figure eight
In the early morn,
Look no further,
For you will see
The Spider’s Clue
In the hollow tree.
Amazed, the Aldens sat in puzzled silence. Jessie looked at Henry. How would they ever figure out such a strange poem?
Sam seemed to know what they were thinking. “That’s going to be a tough mystery to solve,” he remarked. “You certainly have your work cut out for you.”
Mrs. McGregor laughed. “If there’s anything these children like, it’s work!”
“We’re good at figuring out clues,” Benny told Sam. “We’ll find that code word in no time.” He turned to the others. “Right?”
“Yes,” said Henry. Then he added honestly “At least, we’ll do our best.”
Mrs. McGregor said, “Now you can relax, Sam. The mystery’s in good hands. Besides, it’s been ages since you’ve had any time away from your job.”
Sam’s eyes clouded. “Oh, I don’t mind a bit of time to myself. But I do feel badly for my friends—the ones who rely on me. Some of them are getting older, you know. They can’t get around much anymore. They really enjoy looking out their windows at the flowers and the trees.” Sam shook his head sadly. “I try to keep their windows clean. Every week I do one or two houses for free. The homes where my older friends live, I mean.”
“Maybe we could lend a hand,” volunteered Henry.
“Of course,” agreed Jessie, while Benny and Violet nodded eagerly.
Sam looked surprised—and pleased. “Would you?” he asked.
“We’d like to help,” Violet said in her soft voice.
Sam looked at the children’s eager faces. “Washing windows is hard work,” he warned them.
“No problem!” Benny said. “We can handle it!”
“I just might take you up on that offer,” Sam said, smiling for the first time. “I don’t like to let folks down.”
The Aldens looked at one another. They understood what Sam meant. Helping people always made them feel good, too.
“The houses aren’t far from here.” Sam scribbled the names and addresses on a piece of paper. “I know they’ll appreciate your help.”
Henry folded the paper that Sam handed to him. Then he carefully put the addresses in his pocket.
Jessie spoke up. “Do you mind if I make a copy of the Spider’s Clue poem, Sam?”
Sam didn’t mind at all. “Be my guest,” he said.
Jessie tugged her small notebook and pencil from her pocket. While she copied the poem, the other Aldens helped Mrs. McGregor. They gathered up the glasses and saucers and teacups and took them into the kitchen to wash them. It wasn’t until they were saying good-bye that the children remembered to give Sam their get-well card.
“Nobody’s ever drawn a picture of me before,” Sam told them, taking a long look at the card. “And a poem, too! I can’t believe it.”
Mrs. McGregor smiled. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
Sam tucked the get-well card into his shirt pocket. “This one is a keeper!” he said in a choked voice.
Violet was afraid Sam might get lonely all by himself. “We’ll stop by every day,” she promised. “And we’ll keep you up to date on the mystery.”
?
??I’d like that,” Sam told her.
Jessie was worried about Sam, too. There was such a sad note in his voice. But she didn’t know what to say to make him feel better, so she just stared out the window. Her eyes suddenly widened when she caught a glimpse of movement outside.
Was it just her imagination? Or was the same man still watching Sam’s house from behind the trees?
CHAPTER 3
A Needle in a Haystack
“Guess what, Grandfather?” Benny was bursting with news at dinner that night.
James Alden was helping himself to some of Mrs. McGregor’s creamed chicken. He looked puzzled, but only for a moment. “I bet you found a mystery to solve,” he said, turning to his youngest grandson. “Am I right?”
Benny’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”
Grandfather chuckled. “Because my grandchildren attract mysteries like a magnet attracts iron.”
At that, the four Alden children couldn’t help laughing. They went on to tell Grandfather everything that had happened when they went to visit Sam. When they were finished, their grandfather said, “Sam’s right. You do have your work cut out for you.”
“That’s for sure,” said Jessie. She passed the hot biscuits to Violet. “Especially when the clues are in such a strange poem.” Jessie had the oddest feeling she’d heard the first few lines of that poem somewhere before. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on where it was.
Violet sighed. “We only have one week to find the secret code word for Sam.”
“That doesn’t give you much time, does it?” said Grandfather.
Violet shook her head as she buttered a biscuit. “It sure doesn’t.”
“And don’t forget,” Henry reminded them. “There’ll be other people in Greenfield trying to find it, too.”
The Aldens looked at one another—they were all thinking the same thing. The hollow tree could be anywhere. Where would they start?
“There’s a street map of Greenfield in my study,” Grandfather suggested. “If you think it might help, I’ll get it out for you after dinner.”
That did seem like a good idea. “Thank you, Grandfather,” said Violet. “A street map will help a lot.”
By the time they were having dessert, Henry was deep in thought. After taking a bite of his apple pie, he said, “It’s a funny coincidence that an old friend of Sam’s is handling the millionaire’s estate.”
Jessie didn’t think it was strange at all. “Almost everyone in town is a friend of Sam’s,” she reminded him.
Benny agreed. “He’s lived here all his life.”
“Not quite,” corrected Grandfather. “Sam was born in Greenfield and he went to school here for a number of years. But the Snow family moved away after Sam’s mother died. That’s when his father decided to run the family business in Boston.”
Henry was surprised to hear this. “I thought Sam had always lived in Greenfield.”
Grandfather shook his head. “Sam and his brother were teenagers when they moved away. After they finished school in Boston, they went to work in the family business, too. Just like their father. But I think Sam always missed small-town life. After his father passed away, Sam gave up his job at Snow Carpets. That’s when he moved back to Greenfield. He’s been washing windows for a living ever since.”
Violet said, “Sam loves washing windows. I can’t imagine him doing anything else.”
“I know what you mean,” said Grandfather. “Of course, Sam would be rich if he’d stayed in Boston and run the family business with his brother. But his job in Greenfield makes him happy.”
Benny grinned. “Pretty soon, Sam will be rich.”
Violet clasped her hands together. “Oh, this is so exciting,” she said. “Let’s start looking for the hollow tree first thing in the morning.”
The others were quick to agree. They could hardly wait for tomorrow.
After breakfast the next morning, the children set to work making a picnic lunch to take along on their search for the hollow tree.
Jessie got out the bread, egg salad, lettuce, and pickles. Violet took apples from the crisper. Benny found paper plates and napkins. Henry filled a thermos with pink lemonade.
Jessie loaded everything into her backpack. “Let’s take a look at Grandfather’s map before we set out,” she suggested.
The four Aldens and Watch hurried out to the boxcar.
“This is a wonderful street map,” Henry said, unfolding it over the blue cloth that covered the table. “It even shows the small lanes and alleyways in town.”
“Where should we start?” Benny asked.
“Well, we have a few choices,” said Jessie. The others watched as she traced her finger along the map. “We can start downtown on Main Street . . . or over here in the Morningside neighborhood . . . or we can search the Greenfield College area first.” Jessie was the best map reader in the family. She always knew how to get where they were going.
Nobody said anything for a moment. Then Violet drew in her breath as a sudden thought came to her.
“The poem!” she cried.
Everyone looked at her. “What about it?”
“It gives us a clue where to begin!” Violet’s voice rose with excitement as she recited: “When the sheep in the meadow/ And the cow in the corn/ Do a figure eight/ In the early morn.”
Henry snapped his fingers in sudden understanding. “In the early morn—the Morningside neighborhood!”
“Wow!” Benny was excited. “We figured out the first clue already.”
“That was good detective work, Violet,” praised Jessie.
“Thanks.” Violet was bending over the map again. “I like the Morningside neighborhood. The streets have such interesting names.”
Jessie was studying the map, too. “I was thinking we could start on Teaneck Drive, then go over to Saddleback Avenue. After that, we can follow Ice Pond Road past the Greenfield Tennis Club and up as far as Blue Street. If we have time, we can even loop around and cover all the back lanes.” Jessie looked up at the others. “How does that sound?”
Everyone thought it sounded just fine. Henry folded the map and tucked it into his back pocket.
While Jessie put her backpack and the Frisbee in the basket of her bike, Watch looked up at her, wagging his tail.
“Sorry, Watch,” Jessie said. She knelt down and gave the little black-and-white dog a hug. “You can’t come with us this time. We’ll be riding our bikes.”
Benny petted Watch softly on the head. “You can come with us later,” he promised, “when we visit Sam.”
A few minutes later, the Aldens were pedaling along the peaceful streets of Greenfield.
“Keep your eyes open for a hollow tree!” Henry reminded them.
The Aldens kept their eyes open. They rode up and down many streets of the Morningside neighborhood. But by noon they still hadn’t caught even a glimpse of a hollow tree. When they stopped their bikes on Ice Pond Road to wait for a light to change, Benny spoke up.
“Is it time to eat yet?” he asked hopefully.
Henry glanced at his watch. “Close enough. I’m ready for a break.”
“I second that!” Violet said, and Jessie nodded.
Before too long, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny were sitting cross-legged on the lawn of the Greenfield Tennis Club. “What a perfect day for a picnic,” Jessie said as she passed around the paper plates and napkins.
Benny sighed. “It’s not a perfect day for solving a mystery.” He held out his special cup as Violet poured the lemonade. It was the cracked pink cup he had found when they were living in the boxcar.
“We can’t give up,” Violet told him.
“That’s true,” said Henry as Jessie handed him an eggsalad sandwich. “But at this rate, we’ll never solve the mystery in a week.”
“I know,” Jessie agreed. “It’ll take us forever to search every street in town. We haven’t even finished the Morningside neighborhood yet.”
No one said an
ything as they ate their sandwiches and pickles. There was nothing to say. What else could they do except ride up and down the streets? They couldn’t think of any other way to find the hollow tree.
After lunch, Jessie pulled her notebook from her back pocket. While the other Aldens played Frisbee nearby, she reread the Spider’s Clue poem. Once, twice, three times. Something was still puzzling her about the first few lines of the poem. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d heard the words somewhere before. She was still trying to sort out her thoughts when her sister and brothers sat down again.
Benny crunched into an apple. “There sure are a lot of trees in Greenfield,” he said, still thinking about the mystery.
Violet nodded. “Especially here in the Morningside neighborhood.”
“Looking for a hollow tree in this neighborhood,” said Benny, “is like . . . like—”
Henry smiled over at his brother. “Like looking for a needle in a haystack?”
“That’s just what it’s like,” exclaimed Benny. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack!”
Jessie looked at Benny in surprise. A funny look came over her face. Then she clapped her hands.
“Benny!” she exclaimed. “That’s it!”
“What?” said Benny.
“I knew there was something familiar about the first few lines,” she told them.
“The part about the sheep in the meadow and the cow in the corn, I mean.”
The others stared at Jessie. They looked totally confused.
“When Benny mentioned a haystack,” Jessie explained, “something just clicked. Those first few lines of the poem are from a nursery rhyme!”
“What nursery rhyme?” asked Henry.
Jessie shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I can’t really remember how it goes. But it says something about a cow and a sheep and a haystack.”
“Let’s find out about it,” suggested Violet. “It might be an important clue.”
“How will we find out?” asked Benny.
“We can look through some books at the library,” Violet told them. “The ones with Mother Goose nursery rhymes in them.”