“But he didn’t come home,” Jessie guessed.
Lina nodded. “Very good, Jessie. No, he didn’t come home. The very day Hope finished her wedding quilt, word came that Robert had died of a sudden illness. Hope was overcome with grief. All she had left of him were the letters he’d sent. And nobody ever saw that wedding quilt again.”
Violet clasped her hands together. “Oh, what a sad story,” she said.
“I know,” said Lina. “I was sort of hoping Robert’s letters might turn up in the attic. That and her wedding quilt would mean so much to me.” She sighed. “But these other quilts are pretty wonderful, too.”
“Hey, wait!” Benny said, his voice muffled as he leaned down into the chest. “There’s one more quilt in here!”
Lina rushed over and lifted the last quilt from the trunk. This quilt wasn’t beautiful like the others. It was made of rough gray wool, and it didn’t have careful, perfect stitching or embroidery on it as the other quilts did. It looked as if someone had just wanted to finish it in a hurry.
“Oh,” said Benny disappointed. “That’s not the wedding quilt. It’s not pretty at all. It doesn’t belong with these other quilts.” He dropped his end of the old quilt on a chair. Lina smoothed the rough fabric and set the quilt aside.
“Maybe it was just an everyday quilt and these were special quilts for company,” said Lina. She reached out to touch a velvet patch on the nearest quilt. “I know these are special. I wish I could learn more about them.”
“We could look them up at the library,” said Jessie. “Quilts, I mean.”
“And you could call a museum,” said Violet. “The State History Museum, maybe?”
“Good ideas,” said Lina. “I’ll call the museum first thing tomorrow.”
“And we’ll go to the library as soon as we finish helping you get ready for your yard sale,” said Jessie.
“Meanwhile, we should put these quilts back in the trunk,” Henry said.
“Yes, to keep them safe,” agreed Lina.
The Aldens and Lina carefully folded the quilts and set them back into the trunk. Lina spread the gray everyday quilt on top of the others, then closed the lid.
As they left the attic, Lina glanced back at the cedar trunk. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “when my grandfather told me stories about Great-great-aunt Hope’s hidden treasure, I thought it must be gold or silver or jewels. But these quilts are a treasure.”
“Yes,” said Violet softly. “They are.”
CHAPTER 3
Log Cabins and Flying Geese
“Achoo! AAAAAA-CHOOO!” Those were the first sounds the Aldens heard from Edward Munsey. Mr. Munsey was a quilt expert sent by the State History Museum. He had just followed Lina into the attic. The four Aldens had been there all morning helping Lina sort through things for the yard sale.
“It’s not as dusty as it was when we first got here,” Benny said helpfully.
“Ah, oooh, urgh,” said Mr. Munsey, his round face half hidden by a large handkerchief. He whisked the handkerchief away, revealing his watery green eyes. “Allergies,” he finally said. He managed to smile. “To dust. Maybe from all the time I’ve spent in people’s attics looking at what they call treasure.”
At the mention of treasure, Benny perked up. It was a word he liked. “Lina’s grandfather said her great-great-aunt had hidden trea — ”
Interrupting quickly Lina said, “Mr. Munsey, I’d like you to meet my neighbors, Henry, Violet, Benny, and Jessie Alden.”
“And Watch,” added Benny, pointing toward Watch, who was now curled up in the sunlight from the attic window on a faded pillow. Watch raised his head at the sound of his name — and sneezed, too.
That made the Aldens and Lina laugh.
“I hope you are not allergic to dogs,” said Jessie.
“As a matter of fact, and most surprisingly, no,” said Mr. Munsey. “Now, am I to look at quilts, or, er, treasure?”
“Quilts,” said Lina, stepping over to the cedar chest. She raised the lid, moved the gray quilt to one side, and lifted out the first of Hope’s masterpieces. Henry, Violet, and Jessie helped Lina spread it out while Benny gathered up the delicate old tissue paper in which it had been folded.
Mr. Munsey blinked. He cleared his throat. He leaned close to the quilt, so close his nose almost touched it. Then he whipped a small magnifying glass and a small flashlight from his pocket. He clicked on the light and began to examine the quilt through the magnifying glass.
“Ah, um, hmmm,” he murmured as he traced the quilt’s stitches with the flashlight and magnifying glass. “Oh, hmmm, yes.”
“Yes,” he repeated, straightening up. His green eyes were very bright. “Yes, indeed. Treasure, Ms. Diaz. Treasure, indeed. And there are more of these, you say?”
“Five more,” Lina said, and she and the Aldens produced the quilts from the cedar chest, one by one.
Mr. Munsey looked at each very, very carefully. “Flying Geese,” he murmured. “Log Cabin. Ah… the Nine Patch pattern. And look at this stitching, this detail!”
“What are you talking about?” asked Benny.
Mr. Munsey looked up almost as if he’d forgotten anyone else was in the attic with him. “The quilt patterns,” he explained. “Those are the names of the patterns of the quilts. This one is called Log Cabin, and that one is Flying Geese.”
“I don’t see any log cabins or geese flying,” said Benny.
“I think I do,” said Violet. “I mean, not real geese, but you can see a sort of pattern… like the wings of geese when they fly.”
“Exactly,” said Mr. Munsey. “Both Log Cabin and Flying Geese are very common quilt patterns. A couple of these others are a bit more unusual. All are, well, amazing.”
The quilt expert turned to Lina. “Your Great-great-aunt Hope had a wonderful way with color. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen finer stitching. These quilts are worth quite a bit of money.”
Lina reached out to stroke a green velvet patch on the Log Cabin quilt. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Perhaps you would consider giving them to the museum,” said Mr. Munsey. “We could see they are properly cared for and hang them up where many many people could enjoy them.”
With one last quick pat of the quilt, Lina looked up. “Hang them in a museum?” she said. “I don’t know.”
“They are very valuable. Unique. Irreplaceable. You don’t want anything to happen to them, which it easily could, stored in a chest in an attic,” said Mr. Munsey. He glanced toward the window. “Even sunlight will damage them.”
“The quilts have been here for a long, long time, and they’ve been safe,” Henry pointed out.
Mr. Munsey ignored Henry and kept his attention focused on Lina. “We should act quickly,” he urged. “If it’s money you want, I can try to arrange something. We’re not a wealthy museum, but we have resources.”
Laying a hand on Lina’s arm, Jessie said, “We’ll help you put the quilts back in the trunk, and you can think about it.”
“Yes,” said Lina. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll think about it.”
“Ms. Diaz, don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Mr. Munsey said sternly. “Leaving such valuable quilts lying around in an attic is foolish, at best.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Munsey,” Lina said, smiling sweetly. “And don’t worry, I won’t take long to make my decision.”
“But the quilts,” sputtered Mr. Munsey. “The attic could flood. Or catch fire… or someone could steal them. As a collector myself, I can tell you that there are many people who would do anything to get a quilt like one of these — even steal one.”
“Who’s going to steal Hope’s quilts? No one knows they’re here except us,” said Violet.
Mr. Munsey shook his head. “People have ways of finding things out,” he said.
“Not if you don’t tell anyone,” Jessie replied.
Lina began folding the quilts before putting them back into the chest.
&nb
sp; “You forgot to look at this quilt,” Benny said suddenly. “What about this one?”
Mr. Munsey glanced at the faded gray woolen quilt with rough knots holding it together. “Oh,” he said. “That’s what is called a hops or utility quilt. Quickly made just to keep someone warm. Very used, not in good condition compared to these other quilts. Look at the different colors of thread where it’s been repaired. Odd to find it signed and dated, but it does lend it a certain small value. Nothing compared to these others.”
“Maybe she used it every day and liked it because it was so warm and she didn’t have to worry about tearing it or spilling anything on it,” said Henry.
“Maybe it was her favorite,” said Violet. She ran her hand over the worn wool. The fabric wasn’t as rough as it looked — in fact, it was soft and warm. The hops quilt was very thick, too, Violet noticed, thicker than the others.
“Most likely it was just put in the trunk to protect the other quilts,” said Mr. Munsey.
After placing the hops quilt inside, Lina shut the trunk and glanced around the attic. It was much emptier than before, and not nearly as dusty. Henry had even cleaned the attic window so the light was brighter.
“Thank you again,” Lina said to Mr. Munsey, leading him down the attic stairs to the front door.
“I hope you’ll be in touch very soon,” said Mr. Munsey. “The sooner you decide to give the quilts to the museum, the sooner they will be safe. Here’s my card.” He nodded at all the Aldens. “Good day.”
“I don’t think he’s very happy about having to leave those quilts behind,” said Henry, once Mr. Munsey was gone.
Lina laughed. “No. But I’ll need a lot more information before I make any decisions.”
“We’ll stop by the library tomorrow to do some research,” Jessie promised.
Lina nodded. “Okay. Meanwhile, we’ve got some signs to make for that yard sale.”
The Aldens and Lina sat around the big old table in the dining room of the house and made signs for the yard sale. TREASURES FOR SALE, Jessie wrote in big blue letters on a piece of cardboard. At the bottom of the sign, she wrote Lina’s address. STOP! LOOK! ATTIC SALE AHEAD! Henry printed on a sign to put at the corner of the street.
“After the yard sale, we’ll keep looking, won’t we?” Benny asked.
“For what?” Violet asked. She was painting all her signs in purple, her favorite color.
“The hidden treasure,” said Benny. “Hope’s treasure.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing,” Lina said. “To find that treasure, whatever it is — if there is one.”
“There is,” said Benny. “I know there is.”
“Well, first we’ll put these signs up all over town tomorrow,” said Jessie.
“I have some business in Silver City tomorrow,” Lina said. “I’ll put some up there, too. And I’ll put an advertisement in the newspapers.”
“It’s going to be a great yard sale!” said Benny. “I can hardly wait.”
Waving good-bye, the Aldens headed home.
“Do you think it’s true what the quilt man said?” asked Benny as they walked. “That someone might want to steal Lina’s quilts?”
“No,” said Jessie. “No one’s going to bother Lina or the quilts.”
Henry agreed. “I think Mr. Munsey was just trying to scare Lina into giving up the quilts right away.”
Jessie made a face. “I didn’t like the way he tried to pressure her into it. I wonder why he’s so anxious to get the quilts immediately.”
“Maybe she should give the quilts to the museum, just to keep them safe,” said Violet.
“They’re safe,” said Jessie. “Don’t worry. No one’s going to try to steal them. No one even knows they’re here!”
CHAPTER 4
Burglars and Bargains
The Aldens were on their way to the library the next morning when a green van pulled up next to them. It was Lina, and she didn’t have her usual smile on her face.
“Good morning!” Henry called. Then he noticed the worried look on Lina’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Someone tried to break into my house last night,” said Lina.
Violet gasped. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes,” said Lina.
“Who was it?” asked Benny.
“Did they steal the quilts?” asked Violet at the same time.
“I don’t know who it was, and no, nothing got stolen,” Lina answered. “The thief never made it inside. Whoever it was tried to force open the back door. But the lock is strong and the noise woke me up. I turned on the lights and went down to investigate, but whoever it was had run off.”
“The lights must have scared him — or her — away,” said Jessie.
“I think you’re right,” said Lina.
“Do you think the burglar knew about the hidden treasure?” asked Benny.
“Or the quilts?” said Violet.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” said Lina. “But it is strange that suddenly, on the very day that Mr. Munsey told me how valuable those quilts are, someone tried to break into the house.”
“Yes,” agreed Henry. “Very strange.”
Benny frowned. “Do you think it could have been Mr. Munsey?”
Lina shook her head. “I just don’t know,” she said. “I reported it to the police, and they’re going to keep an eye on things. I asked the neighbors to keep their eyes peeled, too. Meanwhile, I’m going to get an extra lock for each door, just in case.”
“Good idea,” said Henry.
After Lina had driven away, Jessie said, “Maybe we should talk to Mr. Munsey.”
“Yes! We’ll ask him if he tried to steal the quilts,” said Benny.
“Well, I don’t think we’ll ask him that,” Henry said. “It’s possible whoever tried to break in doesn’t even know about the quilts. But we will try to find out if he told anyone about them.”
Jessie nodded. “If anyone besides us knows about the quilts, Mr. Munsey must have told them.”
Violet’s eyes widened. “Maybe Mr. Munsey told someone so they could steal the quilts for him.”
Benny hopped excitedly from one foot to the other. “We’re going to solve a mystery!”
Jessie smiled at her little brother. “First, let’s do our research — that will help Lina, too.”
When the Aldens reached Greenfield library, Jessie and Benny went to find books on quilts while Henry and Violet looked up quilts on the computer.
Soon Jessie and Benny had made a small pile of books on a table in a quiet corner of the library.
“We have lots of books,” said Benny.
“Yes, but most of them are about how to make quilts,” said Jessie. “We need to know about the quilts’ history and how much they’re worth.” She handed Benny some of the books. “Why don’t you look through these?”
“Okay,” said Benny. He opened the first book and looked at the pictures. Benny could read a little, but not much yet.
A few minutes later, Benny said, “I found something! Here’s a picture of a quilt like one of the ones in the attic.” He pointed at the page.
“ ‘Flying Geese, a traditional pattern,’ ”
Jessie read over Benny’s shoulder. “It says the quilt in the picture is over a hundred years old and it’s hanging in a museum in New York. It says the quilt is valuable because of its age and condition, the skill of its maker, and the fact that it’s signed and dated.”
Benny nodded as if he already knew all that. “That’s what makes Hope’s quilts worth a lot, too,” he said.
They found several more photographs of quilts much like the ones in the attic. Then they joined Violet and Henry, who were printing pages and pages of quilt facts they’d found on the computer.
“Mr. Munsey was telling the truth,” Violet announced, “at least about how valuable the quilts are. People buy and sell old quilts for lots of money — and most aren’t nearly as pretty as the ones we found.”
“Who buys them?”
Benny asked.
“Museums and private collectors,” said Henry. “We read about auctions where people paid thousands of dollars for quilts.”
“That’s lots of money,” said Benny, his eyes growing round.
“Yes,” agreed Jessie. “If Lina wanted to sell the quilts, she could be rich.”
“And look what else we found,” said Violet. “This is called a Wedding Ring quilt. See? The pattern is of all these connected circles that look like rings.”
“I wonder if that’s the kind of quilt Lina’s Great-great-aunt Hope made for her own wedding,” said Jessie.
“And I wonder what happened to it,” Henry said.
“Maybe she gave it away because it was too sad for her when she looked at it,” Violet said.
“Maybe,” said Jessie. “Or maybe her wedding quilt is the treasure that people say she hid.”
Henry jumped up and began to gather books and papers. “Let’s check out a few of these books,” he said. “Then let’s go home and — ”
“Have a snack?” asked Benny.
Henry smiled. “A snack,” he agreed. “And we’ll call Mr. Munsey, too.”
As they headed home, Benny said, “Someone should make a snack quilt.”
“Or cake,” said Violet.
“But real snacks are better,” said Benny. Working at the library had made him hungry.
While the others prepared the snack, Henry called Mr. Munsey.
He hung up the phone, looking discouraged. “He’s not there,” he reported. “I told his assistant that we met him at Lina’s house and said I had some questions about quilts. The assistant said she’d tell Mr. Munsey we called, but I don’t think she knew who Lina was — I had to repeat her name three times.”
“It doesn’t sound as if Mr. Munsey told anyone about the quilts we found,” said Violet.
“At least not his assistant,” said Jessie.
The children ate their snack and headed to Lina’s house to show her what they had discovered at the library. They had just rounded the corner onto Lina’s block when Henry stopped short.