“I know a riddle!” piped up Benny.

  Grandfather laughed. “Tell us, Benny! I like a good riddle.”

  “What’s black and white and red all over?”

  “That’s easy,” said Henry. “The answer is a newspaper! It’s black and white—and it gets read all over!”

  Benny shook his head. “Nope! The answer is a sunburned zebra!”

  Everybody laughed. Then Mrs. McGregor said, “When we get to the Crooked House, I will tell you a riddle that I have never been able to solve! When I was your age, I spent hours and hours trying to guess the answer.”

  “Won’t you tell us now?” pleaded Benny.

  Mrs. McGregor laughed. “I’ll tell you when we get to the Crooked House,” she promised. Then she added in a hushed voice, “But I will say this much: The answer is supposed to lead to a hidden treasure!”

  The Alden children were staring wide-eyed at their housekeeper. The thought of a mystery waiting to be solved had them very excited.

  How could anyone sell a house with a treasure inside? thought Violet.

  Once again the Aldens were about to embark on an adventure!

  CHAPTER 4

  The Unfriendly Guest

  On their way to the Crooked House the next day, Benny suddenly cried out, “Oh, no! I forgot to bring it.” And he gave his forehead a smack with the palm of his hand.

  “Bring what, Benny?” asked Jessie. She was sure he had packed all of his warm winter clothes and his cracked pink cup.

  “The mystery book I got for Christmas!” said Benny. “The one by Amelia Quigley Adams. And we were just getting to the best part, Jessie!”

  “Oh, The Alphabet Mystery!” Jessie had been reading a chapter every night to her brother. “I meant to pack it, but I guess I forgot, too.”

  “Don’t worry, Benny,” said Henry. “When Mrs. McGregor tells us the riddle, we’ll have our own mystery to solve.”

  Violet put an arm around her younger brother. “And a treasure to find!” she added.

  Mrs. McGregor was sitting up front beside Grandfather Alden. She looked over her shoulder and said, “You’re in luck, Benny! Amelia Quigley Adams was my favorite children’s author when I was growing up. There’s a whole collection of her books at the Crooked House. In fact, I have a signed copy of The Alphabet Mystery.”

  Benny’s round face brightened. “Hooray for the Crooked House!”

  At that moment, they passed a huge billboard advertisement for the Sterling Resort. Mrs. McGregor shook her head. “With advertising like that, the Crooked House doesn’t stand a chance.”

  As they turned off the main highway and drove along the lake, they caught a glimpse of the new resort through the trees. Mrs. McGregor went on, “Of course, a few people have remained loyal to the Crooked House. They still come out for their holidays. But my sister has always relied on new guests as well.”

  Snowflakes were just starting to drift down when they came to a small sign advertising rooms to rent. The sign was nailed to a crooked post. The Aldens’ station wagon turned into a long driveway piled high with snow on either side. At the end of the driveway was a big, old-fashioned cottage nestled among the trees. An evergreen wreath decorated its crooked front door.

  As Jessie got out of the car, she noticed a man in a hooded black coat shoveling snow in the next driveway A young girl wearing a blue ski jacket was helping him.

  “Those windows really are lopsided!” said Henry as he opened the car door for Mrs. McGregor.

  “Oh, yes,” said Mrs. McGregor, gazing fondly at her family home. “There isn’t a single window that’s straight. Some go this way and some go that!”

  “And look!” cried Benny pointing. “The chimney’s crooked, too! It looks like that funny tower. The one that leans over.”

  Grandfather Alden chuckled as he lifted the suitcases out of the car. “I think you mean the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Benny.”

  “Right.” Benny nodded. “The Leaning Tower of Pisa in, um ...”

  “Italy,” finished Jessie.

  “Never fear, Benny,” said Mrs. McGregor. “There’s no danger of the crooked chimney tumbling over. It always passes inspection.”

  “What a wonderful home, Mrs. McGregor,” Violet said in a soft voice. “I can’t wait to draw a picture of it for you.”

  Their housekeeper was beaming proudly. “The property backs right onto the lake. You won’t have far to go for skating.”

  Just then the front door of the Crooked House opened. A white-haired woman waved out to them. She looked a lot like Mrs. McGregor, only taller.

  Mrs. McGregor waved back. “That’s my sister, Madeline!”

  The man in the next driveway tossed his shovel aside, then the young girl tossed hers aside, too, and they came rushing over.

  “I’m Nick Spencer.” The man pushed the hood of his coat back from his dark curly hair. “And this is my daughter, Clarissa.”

  “We live just next door,” said Clarissa with a dimpled smile. She was about Violet’s age and was wearing a knit hat that matched her jacket. The breeze kept stirring the wisps of blond curls that framed her rosy face.

  “James Alden,” said Grandfather, putting a hand out to Nick. “And this is Mrs. McGregor and my grandchildren: Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny.”

  “I must tell you, Mrs. McGregor,” said Nick, “we’re really going to miss your sister if the Crooked House is sold. We’ll never be able to repay her for all her kindness. She’s been like a grandmother to Clarissa and a good friend to me.”

  Mrs. McGregor smiled. “My sister has always spoken highly of you, too. You teach history at the local high school, don’t you, Nick?”

  Nick nodded and smiled. “History has always fascinated me. There’s something so mysterious about the past. You never know what treasures you’ll uncover when you start poking about.”

  Jessie and Henry exchanged looks. Was it just a coincidence that Nick had used the word treasure?

  Nick and Clarissa helped Mrs. McGregor with her bags as they all trooped along a path through the snow, then stepped into a hallway cheerfully decorated with sprigs of evergreen and holly. While they breathed in the wonderful smell of home cooking, Mrs. McGregor gave her sister a warm hug. Then she introduced the Aldens.

  “Welcome to the Crooked House!” said Madeline. “You must be hungry after that long drive. Will you and Clarissa join us for dinner, Nick?” she added. “You know there’s always plenty to go around.”

  But Nick and Clarissa were already on their way out the door. “Thanks anyway Madeline,” said Nick. “We’ll have to take a rain check. We’ve got the driveway to finish, then we’re off to the library.” With a wave of his hand, he added, “Sure nice to meet everybody, though!”

  Grandfather looked at his watch. “I’m afraid I’d better be going, too. I still have some business to take care of.”

  “Grandfather doesn’t like to keep anyone waiting,” said Henry.

  The children stood at the door and waved good-bye until the station wagon disappeared behind the trees. Then they took off their coats and boots and hung their knit hats on the hat tree by the door. After that, it wasn’t long before they were sitting down to a delicious dinner of meat loaf, baked potatoes, tossed salad, and creamed corn.

  “Mmm,” said Benny. “This meat loaf tastes just like Mrs. McGregor’s!”

  “I got the recipe from Madeline,” said Mrs. McGregor as she buttered a crusty roll. “My sister is the real cook in the family.”

  “Nonsense!” argued Madeline. “You’re every bit the cook I am, Margaret.”

  Benny’s eyes widened. “I think I’m going to like it here!”

  “That’s for sure!” said Henry. “Two great cooks under one roof! That’s a dream come true for you, Benny.”

  Jessie noticed there was an extra place at the table. She was just wondering about it when Madeline said, “We have a guest staying upstairs.”

  Mrs. McGregor raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh??
??

  Madeline nodded. “Yes, a young woman arrived the other day. Nola Rawlings. She’s staying in the blue room at the end of the hall.”

  Mrs. McGregor looked hopeful. “Do you think business is improving?”

  “Oh, I used to get my hopes up,” said Madeline with a sigh. “But I’ve been disappointed too many times. I know better now.”

  Mrs. McGregor nodded. “I suppose you’re right. A guest every now and again isn’t enough.”

  Just then a slim young woman with shoulder-length brownish-red hair came into the room. She was dressed in jeans and a gray sweater.

  Madeline rose to greet her, then quickly introduced Mrs. McGregor and the Aldens. Nola Rawlings responded with a brisk nod as she slipped into the empty chair beside Henry.

  Mrs. McGregor smiled warmly. “Are you enjoying your stay at Riddle Lake, Nola?”

  The young woman didn’t answer right away. She placed a napkin carefully over her lap, then she looked over at the Aldens with a frown. “I’ve enjoyed it so far,” she finally said. “I came to Riddle Lake hoping to find peace and quiet.”

  The children exchanged puzzled glances. Why was Nola so unfriendly?

  Mrs. McGregor tried to change the subject. “By the way, Benny, that book you want is on a shelf in the living room. Isn’t it amazing about those mysteries by Amelia Quigley Adams? They’re just as popular now as they were in my day! Did you read them when you were growing up, Nola?” she added.

  The young woman gave Mrs. McGregor a funny look. “Why do you ask?” she replied rather sharply.

  “No reason, really,” said Mrs. McGregor in surprise. “I just wondered if you were a fan of Amelia Quigley Adams. When I was growing up—”

  Nola broke in before Mrs. McGregor could finish. “I’ve heard of her, of course. But I’ve never read any of her books. Nor do I have any interest in the subject!”

  Everyone seemed surprised by the young woman’s harsh tone. Jessie caught Henry’s eye. It was such a simple question. Why was Nola getting so upset?

  When dessert was served, Madeline commented, “It’s nice to have so many people gathered around the table again. I’m just sorry that Nick and Clarissa couldn’t join us.”

  “We’re looking forward to getting to know Clarissa better,” said Jessie, taking a bite of the delicious apple pie.

  “Oh, you’re bound to run into her when you go out skating,” replied Madeline. “And just wait till you see the fancy twirls she can do!”

  “Jessie is a good skater, too,” Violet said shyly, looking at her older sister with admiration.

  “I’ve still got a lot to learn,” Jessie protested. “But I do enjoy it. I can’t wait to get out there.”

  “Well, it’s a beautiful night for it,” said Madeline. “No reason you can’t go right after dinner.”

  “There’s a very good reason we can’t go right after supper,” Benny stated firmly. “Mrs. McGregor’s going to tell us all about the riddle and the hidden treasure!”

  The Aldens all nodded their agreement. Nobody noticed Madeline’s sudden frown. Or the look of shock on Nola Rawlings’s face.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Mystery Lady

  After the Aldens helped with the dishes, they carried their suitcases up the crooked staircase behind Mrs. McGregor.

  “Will you tell us about the riddle now?” Benny asked her.

  “I won’t keep you in suspense much longer,” promised Mrs. McGregor. “As soon as you unpack, we’ll have some cake by the fire. Then I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Upstairs, Mrs. McGregor opened a door to a cozy room with cornflower-blue wallpaper and lace curtains. It was perfect for Jessie and Violet. And it was right across the hall from Henry and Benny’s sunny yellow bedroom. Both rooms were furnished with twin beds covered in old-fashioned patchwork quilts and tall pine dressers with brass handles. There were also antique desks and ladderback chairs with crooked slats.

  Violet especially liked the painting of Riddle Lake that was hanging in their room. It was a winter scene—with lots of snow and with icicles glistening on the trees. The painting looked just like the view from their window!

  It didn’t take the Aldens long to unpack. They were waiting for Violet to put away her sketchbook and pencils when Madeline passed the door. She paused in the hallway and said, “I certainly hope you’ll enjoy your stay at the Crooked House!”

  Jessie spoke for them all. “Oh, I’m sure we will!”

  Madeline frowned. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, too ... as long as you forget all about that riddle! Believe me, you’ll be wasting your time if you don’t. Even if there is a treasure, which I doubt, it’s probably nothing more than a rare coin or an old toy. If you think it’s something of value, you’ll just be getting your hopes up for nothing!”

  The Aldens were too surprised to speak. Without saying another word, Madeline turned and hurried off toward the crooked staircase.

  “I wonder why Madeline seems so upset,” said Violet, looking puzzled.

  Jessie frowned. “It does seem odd.”

  Benny sighed. He had been looking forward to finding a real treasure. Something worth a fortune. Or at least worth enough to save the Crooked House. “An old toy isn’t much of a treasure,” he said, disappointment in his voice.

  “No, it’s not,” agreed Jessie. “And Madeline’s not even sure there is a treasure!”

  “But there might be,” said Henry after a moment’s thought. “And it might be valuable.”

  “That’s true,” said Jessie.

  “So what do we do now?” asked Violet.

  “Find out more!” suggested Benny, who always got right to the point. “And don’t forget, Mrs. McGregor said something about cake!”

  While Madeline went next door with some leftover meat loaf for Nick and Clarissa, the Aldens sat around the cozy fireplace in the living room. It was dark outside and the snow was still falling. But inside, the fire crackled cheerfully, and the spicy scent of pine filled the air.

  Mrs. McGregor was sipping eggnog. The Alden children had asked her about the riddle and were waiting for her reply. When she finally spoke, her voice was almost a whisper. “It was the Mystery Lady who sent me the riddle,” she said. “Many, many years ago.”

  Benny almost choked on his cake. “The Mystery Lady?”

  Mrs. McGregor nodded. “I remember her so well. Her hair was as white as the snow, but her heart was as warm as the fire. She rented a room every summer when I was a child. Oh, she always registered as Miss Jane Smith, but it wasn’t long before we realized that Jane Smith wasn’t her real name. You see, it always took her a moment to react when someone called her Miss Smith. We soon figured out that she just wasn’t used to being called by that name. She never talked about her life away from Riddle Lake, you know. Not a single word.”

  Henry put his empty glass on the coffee table. “Is that why you called her the Mystery Lady?”

  “Exactly,” replied Mrs. McGregor. “I suppose it might seem odd that we would welcome an imposter into our home. But she was so gracious and kind. After a while, it just didn’t matter who she really was. We called her the Mystery Lady, and she seemed to enjoy it,” Mrs. McGregor had a faraway look in her eyes. “The Mystery Lady loved Riddle Lake. She even painted a picture of how she imagined it would look in the winter. She was only a beginner, but the painting is quite lovely. As a matter of fact, that painting’s still hanging in her old room at the top of the stairs—the room that looks out onto the lake.”

  “Oh!” said Violet in surprise. “That painting’s in the room Jessie and I are sharing!”

  Mrs. McGregor gave a little nod and smiled. “She liked the view from that room. Actually the lake was the reason the Mystery Lady and I became such good friends. I remember we had a long discussion one day about how it came to be called Riddle Lake. Of course, that’s a mystery no one will ever solve. But that day, we realized we shared a common interest in riddles. Madeline always kept her distance, but the Mys
tery Lady and I soon became the best of friends!”

  “Why did Madeline keep her distance?” asked Jessie curiously.

  Mrs. McGregor sighed. “My sister likes everything to be out in the open. She’s always been rather suspicious of anyone who has a ... a hint of mystery about them. And our guest from long ago had far more than just a hint of mystery about her!”

  “Did she ever tell you her real name?” asked Benny his eyes round.

  Mrs. McGregor shook her head. “No, we never discovered her true identity. It remains a secret to this very day. I guess I was always hoping that one day she’d tell me about her life away from Riddle Lake. But it never happened.” A shadow seemed to pass over Mrs. McGregor’s face. “One summer, the Mystery Lady suddenly just stopped coming to the Crooked House.”

  The Aldens were surprised to hear this. “You never heard from her again?” inquired Henry.

  “She never got in touch?” asked Jessie at the same time.

  “Just once, the winter after her last visit,” said Mrs. McGregor. “I received a short note in the mail from the Mystery Lady. A note with a riddle and a promise that the answer would lead to a hidden treasure!”

  Benny was jiggling up and down. “What was it, Mrs. McGregor? What was the riddle?”

  Smiling at the youngest Alden’s enthusiasm, Mrs. McGregor went over to a cupboard with glass doors. She took out a battered old shoe box and came back to her chair by the fire. Lifting the lid of the box, she fished out a folded piece of paper, yellowed with age.

  As the Aldens leaned forward to catch every word, Mrs. McGregor unfolded the note and read the riddle aloud.

  “‘What is the thing that

  You never need fear

  Though teeth like a dragon

  It grows every year?

  You’ll find that its bark

  Is much worse than its bite,

  Though its dragonly teeth

  Are a most scary sight!’”

  “Teeth like a dragon?” echoed Benny in amazement.

  Mrs. McGregor nodded. “There’s also a P.S. at the bottom of the note. It says, ‘It will take a second to uncover a hidden treasure.’ And then it’s signed ‘The Mystery Lady’ ”