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Authors: Gertrude Warner

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BOOK: The Woodshed Mystery
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“Let’s go and pack, Jessie,” said Violet. “I can hardly wait to see Aunt Jane.”

“Aunt Jane won’t be there,” said Mr. Alden.

“No, I know that,” said Violet. “But I’d like to hurry and get ready for her. ”

“We all seem to be in a great hurry,” said Benny. “Will Aunt Jane fly?”

“Yes, I think John Carter can go out for her. Then she will not worry about a thing.”

“Oh, you mean our nice Mr. Carter!” cried Jessie. “He can do anything. Aunt Jane will be safe with him.”

Jessie was right. John Carter was trusted with many things by Grandfather. He even flew Mr. Alden’s private plane.

“Now I think I’ll go and pack my own bag,” said Grandfather, getting out of his chair. “Good-night, everybody.”

“Good-night?” shouted Benny. “It’s only half past seven. Are we going to
bed?

Everybody laughed at Benny’s surprised look.

“I am,” said Grandfather, “and you’d better. Just pack your things first. Remember we start at five. And that means breakfast before five.”

“Can we take Watch?” asked Benny.

“Yes, take Watch. It won’t be a long trip.”

The Aldens had the same suitcases they had taken to Blue Bay. They all knew how to pack very well. It did not take long to decide to take plain clothes. They knew they would need them on a farm.

“We won’t dress up at all,” said Jessie. “Just take shorts and slacks and flat shoes.”

“We always take flat shoes,” said Henry. “Everywhere we go we take flat shoes.”

“Oh, Henry, don’t tease,” laughed Jessie. “I know boys do.”

When four o’clock in the morning came, Benny was fast asleep. He did not hear the alarm clock. Violet went into his room and shook him gently.

“No,” said Benny. “No! It isn’t morning yet. It’s too dark.”

“You said you’d get up at midnight or four o’clock. Any old time,” said Violet.

“It’s different now,” said Benny.

Violet laughed. She put on all the lights and Benny got out of bed.

The family ate a big breakfast of bacon and eggs, cereal and toast and orange juice. Then they all piled into the big station wagon. Henry drove. It was a beautiful spring day. The woods were just beginning to look green. The fields were covered with dandelions. Birds sang in the trees as the sun came up. The family went along the smooth turnpike on the way north.

“We should get there by nine o’clock,” said Grandfather. “I’ll tell you where to turn, Henry.”

A little later he shouted, “Here we are, Henry! Turn here! See the white church over there? And that other building is the town hall. And there is the old store! How small it looks! It used to look big.”

They were delighted to find the store so easily. Everyone got out of the car and went into the store.

“My gracious me!” said the man behind the counter. “I bet you’re James Alden. I’m Elisha Morse.”

“I remember your name, Elisha,” said Grandfather. He shook hands.

For several minutes the two men talked about the sale of the farm. Then Mr. Alden wrote out a check and gave it to Mr. Morse.

“I don’t think you’re going to like your farm,” Mr. Morse said as he put the check away. “The roof leaks.”

“Can’t it be fixed?” asked Mr. Alden.

“Sure. Only it will cost money. I’d do it for you if I had the money.”

“Would you fix it yourself?”

“No. My son is the handy one. He could put on new shingles.”

“You get him if you can,” said Grandfather. “We’ll go right up to the house. Ask your son to come up and see me. We must certainly have the roof fixed.”

“Good,” said Mr. Morse. “Here’s the key to the back door. My son will come in soon to see who was in the store.”

Mr. Morse came out and watched the Aldens get back into the station wagon. He said nothing. The car began to move. Still Mr. Morse said nothing. But when the car had rolled down the drive, he called, “There’s a lot of other things the matter with that farm! You won’t like it!”

But the Aldens were on their way to the farm on the hill and Henry did not turn back.

CHAPTER
3

Grandfather Takes Over

N
ow why in the world did Mr. Morse call to us after I got started?” asked Henry.

“Well, that’s the way people are up here,” said Grandfather. “I remember now. You have to get used to it. They have all the time there is. Never in a hurry.”

“I suppose I should have gone back,” said Henry.

“No,” said Grandfather. “We’ll wait now and see the house. Then we will find out what’s wrong. These people are the best people in the world. They will do anything for you. You just wait and see. They can even hurry if you tell them why.”

Violet looked at Jessie and smiled. They loved to see their grandfather so happy. He was looking all around him at the little village.

“See!” he said. “There’s the old Bean farm!”

“Bean farm?” said Benny. “Do they raise beans?”

“Oh, no. Mr. and Mrs. Bean used to live there. They had two sons,” said Mr. Alden. “I remember the Bean boy who was just about my age. In mischief all the time. Good looking boy, but always in trouble.” Mr. Alden threw his head back and laughed. “I remember Jane liked him pretty well. Very well, I mean. She always stood up for him.”

“What became of him?” asked Benny. “Did he grow up bad?”

“I don’t know, Benny. That’s a long story. You see he got into trouble with an old gun up here. The next day he was gone. Nobody ever found him. Jane felt pretty bad. I think Jane might have married him.”

“He ran away?” asked Henry.

“Yes, I suppose he did. Later on, we heard he ran away to sea. He got a job on a ship and went around the world. Anyway, nobody knows where he is now. He may be dead. Probably is dead.”

“Aunt Jane would be sorry,” said Violet.

Mr. Alden looked at his gentle granddaughter. “Yes, Jane would be sorry. Nobody ever knew where he got that gun.”

“Did he shoot anybody with it?” asked Benny.

“No. He shot at the big trees to scare people. Queer thing happened. He started a forest fire. Oh, what a fire that was! The house almost caught on fire. But the neighbors put it out. In the morning he was gone.”

“What was his first name?” asked Jessie.

“Now what was his name?” said Grandfather. “I have forgotten. It was a long time ago. I was a boy myself.”

“It’s a nice house,” said Henry.

“Yes, but not as nice as our farmhouse. Ours was built in 1750. There are four big chimneys. You can see the date on the front chimney, I think. It used to be there. There! Look over there! That’s the old house!”

Mr. Alden was so excited that the children were excited too. They looked toward the top of the hill. There stood an enormous white farmhouse. Two large elm trees stood beside the house. Behind the house was a great red barn, and behind the barn was a field and then woods.

“I don’t see anything bad about the house,” said Jessie. “It needs paint, maybe. But it looks all right to me.”

“The roof leaks,” said Benny.

“Wait and see,” said Henry. “I think that if Mr. Morse said we wouldn’t like it, something must be wrong with it.”

“There’s the 1750 on the chimney,” cried Benny. “Painted white.”

Henry turned the station wagon again and there they were, right by the back door of the house. They all got out of the car. They stood and looked at the house. Then Henry put the big key in the back door and turned it.

“The door key works anyway,” he said. He pushed the door open.

“I’ll go in first,” said Mr. Alden. “Then you children follow. Nobody has been here for a long time.” The house looked cool and dim inside.

First they found themselves in a back pantry. Next came the old kitchen.

“Oh, look!” cried Jessie. “What an enormous fireplace!”

“I could lie down in that fireplace!” shouted Benny.

“Don’t,” said Jessie. “And look at the old brick ovens on both sides.” She opened the doors.

“Say!” exclaimed Benny. “That must be where they baked bread.”

The kitchen was a big room. Next everyone went into the sitting room. The carpet was dusty, but not too worn. The chairs and tables were covered with dust.

The Aldens turned to the left and came to the long hall. The front door was at one end of the hall. On the other side of the hall was a parlor and a bedroom. The Aldens walked quickly through these rooms. There would be time to explore them later.

“I suppose there are four bedrooms upstairs,” said Jessie.

“Oh, let’s go upstairs,” said Benny. “Maybe there is something wrong up there.”

“I can’t see anything wrong downstairs,” said Henry. “It’s only dirty and dusty. A fireplace in every room. Think of that!”

“Upstairs, too,” said Grandfather. “That’s how we kept warm. There were no heaters in those days.”

Upstairs they went. There were the four bedrooms. No bathroom.

“We simply can’t stay here, Grandfather,” said Jessie, the good housekeeper. “It is too dirty.”

“Oh, no! We will stay at a motel as I said. Maybe we can
get
somebody to clean this place up.”

“We could do it,” said Benny.

“No, it will take a strong woman to do this. And maybe a man would be still better,” said Mr. Alden. He looked around thoughtfully.

“There’s a man at the back door,” said Benny. “I can see his car.”

They all went down to find a tall young man getting out of a car.

“Are you Mr. Morse’s son who can fix the roof?” asked Benny.

“That’s right, son,” said the man. “Call me Sim. I’m Simeon Morse.”

“Oh, that’ll be neat!” shouted Benny. “When Sam comes we’ll have Sim and Sam!”

“And who is Sam?” asked Sim.

“He is coming with my sister,” said Mr. Alden. “You’ll get along fine with Sam. He and his wife are going to handle the farm work for my sister. Now I want you to tell me the truth, young man.
What
is the matter with this house?”

Sim stood on one foot and then the other. He was very nervous.

“Well, I’ll tell you the truth. I
don’t
know.”

“You don’t know? Then what makes you think there is any trouble here?”

“I don’t know that, either,” said Sim.

Grandfather sat down in a kitchen chair and leaned forward. “Now, Simeon,” he said. “You sit right down here. I want to know just what’s going on. Your father says there is something strange about this place. And you think so, too. What makes you think so? After all, I used to live here and nothing seemed so mysterious then.”

Sim looked at Grandfather for a moment. Then he said, “But your family left, just the way all the others have. Nobody stays.”

“But what is it that makes you think this?” Grandfather asked.

“Kind of silly,” said Sim.

“Never mind that. I want to know what it is, silly or not.”

“Well,” said Sim, “maybe you know the Bean family? Used to live over in that next house?”

“I certainly do.”

Sim went on. “There used to be an older boy there who found a gun some place.”

“I know,” said Grandfather. “I have forgotten his first name.”

“Andrew,” said Sim.

“That’s right! Andrew it was! We called him Andy and his father didn’t like it. Andy Bean! How could I forget that? Now what’s the story?”

“Well, that Andrew was wild. He made a lot of trouble. And that gun set this whole place on fire. They put the fire out, but Andrew never showed up again.
Never.
His brother got the farm.”

“Well, what’s the matter with this house? That was long ago.”

Sim looked at Mr. Alden. “You want the truth of it? Seems as if nobody ever got along very well here after that. Bad to worse. People tell all kinds of stories. They
say
that Andrew found the gun here, and somebody was hiding here and gave it to him. Somebody up to no good.”

“Now who could that be?”

“I don’t know. It was a terrible long time ago.”

“What kind of a gun was it?” asked Henry.

“Yes! That’s a good question. We’ve got that gun over to my father’s house right now. It’s an awful old gun. The kind they used in the Revolutionary War. Long time ago.”

“I should like to see that gun very much,” said Mr. Alden.

“See it any time,” said Sim. “Ask my father.”

Mr. Alden looked at Henry and Jessie. “I think there is some story about this gun. And we need to find out what it is!”

“Oh, boy!” cried Benny. “And now we’ll have some fun. When my grandfather really gets going, Sim, things
happen.

“I bet,” said Sim. He smiled at Benny.

“Now, Sim,” Mr. Alden went on, “is this house dangerous? Can’t it be fixed and cleaned up?”

“Sure,” said Sim. “Nothing wrong with the house itself, I guess.” He scowled.

“I thought you said there
was
something wrong with the house!” cried Mr. Alden.

“It’s just what people say and how they feel about this place. Bad luck. The
house
is all right. I guess we ought to put a heavy post in the cellar to make the floor safe. Fix the roof. Fix the windows. Paint a little. You could live here OK.”

“Well, you’re a fine friend,” said Mr. Alden. “I’m glad we found you. Can you get some help and start right to work on this place? Today?”

BOOK: The Woodshed Mystery
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