The Hundred-Year Mystery

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by Gertrude Chandler Warner


  A Dangerous Climb

  The smell of pancakes drifted out from the kitchen. It floated upstairs into each child’s bedroom. One by one, they woke and shuffled downstairs. Watch sat next to the stove. His tail wagged as Grandfather cooked on a large griddle.

  “Morning, sleepyheads,” said Grandfather. “Breakfast’s almost ready.”

  Jessie set out the plates. Benny folded napkins. Violet put out forks and knives. And Henry put out glasses and a pitcher of milk.

  The night before, the children had told Grandfather about their adventure at the manor. They showed him the journal, and he had examined the fancy writing with his large magnifying glass. He read and reread the riddle. But he couldn’t figure it out either. “Let’s all go to sleep thinking about it,” he had said. “Our brains are amazing computers. Sometimes they do their best work while we sleep.” But it hadn’t helped. The riddle was just as confusing in the morning as it had been the night before.

  Benny hopped up on a stool to watch Grandfather flipping pancakes. “Your pancakes smell different than Mrs. McGregor’s,” said Benny.

  “Do they?” Grandfather asked. He leaned over and sniffed. “You’re right,” he said. “That’s because Mrs. McGregor makes everything from scratch.”

  Mrs. McGregor was the Alden’s housekeeper. She was on vacation in Ireland.

  Grandfather slid a spatula under the pancakes. He began lifting them from the griddle onto a platter. “Since I’m not much of a cook, I made these pancakes with Panquake mix.”

  Benny laughed. “You mean pancake mix.”

  “Nope,” said Grandfather. He nodded at a box on the counter. Its big letters said Panquakes—The pancake mix that’s fun to fix.

  Jessie showed Benny the lettering. “See? The name of this pancake mix is Panquakes, so the first letter is a capital P.”

  Violet grinned. “Like the capital V in my name. The color violet doesn’t have a capital V, but a person named Violet does.”

  “Well, however you spell it,” said Benny, “I’m going to eat it.”

  Just as Grandfather finished putting the pancakes onto the platter, his office phone rang. “I’ve been expecting an important business call,” he said, hurrying down the hall. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  As Jessie lifted the platter of pancakes, a cool morning breeze blew through the kitchen window. “Let’s picnic out at the boxcar,” she said.

  The children carried everything to a small table in the backyard. The table was made from an old board Henry had found in an alley. He had sanded the edges smooth, then gave the wood a coat of red paint. Finally, he set the board on cinder blocks next to the boxcar. Usually the table was big enough for their picnics, but this morning there wasn’t enough room for everything. Henry had to set the pitcher of milk on the grass. “I should make a bigger table,” said Henry. Still, they managed to enjoy the delicious breakfast. And, every now and then, a small bit of pancake just happened to fall off the table and into Watch’s mouth.

  Rays of sunshine shone through tree leaves. They made dancing patterns on the boxcar. “When we lived in the boxcar,” said Violet, “I loved when the morning sun peeked through the door and woke me up.”

  “That’s like the clue in the journal,” Jessie said. “I memorized it as I went to sleep.” Jessie liked to memorize all sorts of things: poems, bits of plays, songs. “Part of the clue said, ‘Go to where the sun’s first ray shines just east of town each day.’”

  “But what town does it mean?” Henry asked. “How can we find the ‘sun’s first ray’ if we don’t know where the journal writer lived?”

  The children ate their pancakes, trying to think of an answer to Henry’s question. Violet drank her milk, which left a small, white mustache. Dabbing her lip with a napkin, she said, “Ella said the journal might have been written by someone who helped build the manor. If that person worked in Greenfield, maybe they lived here too.”

  “‘The sun’s first ray,’” said Henry. “Well, when the sun rises, the first thing it touches is high up, like the treetops. What high point is to the east of Greenfield?” Henry stabbed another pancake onto his plate and poured syrup over it.

  “What about Rapunzel’s tower?” said Jessie. “Maybe that’s the highest point.”

  Henry finished his pancake and washed it down with milk. “What bothers me,” he said, “is that the clue says the place is ‘just east’ of town. We had to bike east and then turn north to get to Wintham Manor.”

  Benny thought back to riding their bikes to the manor. He remembered pedaling up and up and up. “Rocks!” he said. “Those scary ones that look like fingers sticking out of the ground.”

  Henry jumped up. “That’s it!” he said, excited. “Jessie, how does the rest of the poem go?”

  Jessie closed her eyes and recited:

  Come find my home away from home

  From which I traveled to worlds unknown

  Where I was raised from all my brothers

  Known to me, but not the others

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Henry, heading for the garage. “I need to pack a couple of things. I’ll meet you at our bikes when you finish eating. And, Jessie, bring the journal.”

  The children were out of breath by the time they reached the rocks. Henry slowed his bike at the tallest one. “The top of that rock is the highest point around,” he said. “I’m going to climb up to see what I can see.”

  “Me too,” said Benny.

  “Not this time,” said Henry. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “But I can climb trees,” said Benny.

  Henry knelt down and rested his hands on Benny’s shoulders. “You know I took a rock climbing course at camp. There are many special things you must learn to climb rocks safely. I don’t want you getting hurt.” Henry opened his backpack. He took out the small folding shovel they used for camping and handed it to Benny. “Wait for me right here,” he said. “I’ll have a very important job for you as soon as I reach the top.”

  Henry began climbing the finger rocks. The lower rocks were as easy to climb as the oak tree in their backyard. But the higher Henry climbed, the steeper the rocks became. There were fewer places to grip with his fingers and not as many ledges to push with his toes. His heart pounded from the hard climb. A few times he had to rest before climbing again.

  “Please be careful,” called Jessie.

  Violet pressed her hands to her mouth, almost afraid to watch.

  Benny hardly breathed. He knew Henry was strong. Still, this rock seemed as high as the sky.

  Slowly, carefully, Henry climbed. Jessie watched him go higher and higher. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “I just realized something.” She ran to her bike and took out the journal. “Sometimes the same words can mean two different things.” She flipped to the page and read the clue.

  Come find my home away from home

  From which I traveled to worlds unknown

  Where I was raised from all my brothers

  Known to me, but not the others

  Above them, Henry was nearly at the top. “I thought ‘raised from all my brothers’ meant ‘brought up,’” said Jessie. “The way we’re all being raised by Grandfather. But it can also mean ‘raised’ like ‘be higher up’ than all my brothers. The way Henry raised himself higher than us.”

  At last Henry reached the top of the tallest “finger.” He pulled himself up onto the top. “Made it!” he called. The others cheered. The top of the rock was nice and flat. Henry sat and drank some water as he looked out. “Oh wow,” he called. “I can see the whole town from up here. I think I can even see Elmford.” After a minute, he took a ball of string and a horseshoe out of his backpack. He knotted one end of the string around the middle of the horseshoe. “What does the poem say about plumbing a line?” he called.

  Jessie called up, “Then plumb a line both straight and true and dig there for your second clue.”

  Henry started looking around. “What’s he
doing?” asked Benny.

  “Looking for a place to plumb a line,” said Jessie.

  “I don’t know what that means,” Benny said. “Is he looking for a plum to eat?”

  “Ah,” said Jessie. “I see why it’s hard to understand.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her small notebook. She flipped to the back where she kept a list titled Benny’s New Words. She wrote: Plum = fruit you eat. Plumb line = a straight line up and down. “Henry wants to make a plumb line—a line straight down—from where he is to where we are. Look. I think he’s found it.”

  Henry had found the only place on top of the rock where he could look straight down to where Benny was standing. Carefully, he lay down on his stomach. Inch by inch, he pulled himself forward until his head and arms hung over the edge. “Okay, Benny,” he called, “get your shovel ready. I’m going to plumb a line down to you.” Unwinding the ball of string, Henry lowered the horseshoe down and down and down. The weight of the horseshoe kept the string straight. Soon the ball of string had grown very small. The horseshoe dangled just above the ground. “Is the string plumb?” called Henry.

  Benny looked up and down the string. It was tight and straight. “Yes,” said Benny.

  “Then dig right under the horseshoe for our second clue,” said Henry.

  Benny started digging. Jessie thought that she or Violet could have dug faster. But it was important to all of them to work as a team. Jessie had memorized the poem. Violet had suggested the author of the journal lived in Greenfield. Henry had climbed to where the “sun’s first ray” shone on Greenfield. And now it was Benny’s turn. Even though he was the smallest, he always did his part. Benny dug and dug. The hard dirt made for hard work. Just as he was beginning to think there was nothing there—clank—the shovel struck metal.

  The Only

  “I found something!” yelled Benny.

  Jessie and Violet crowded around.

  “What is it?” asked Violet.

  “I don’t see anything,” Jessie said.

  Benny kept digging. A bit of metal began to show. Then a little more. Blisters stung his hands. Still Benny dug. Jessie could see his hands really hurt. “May I help?” she asked. Benny handed her the shovel. Jessie dug awhile then passed the shovel to Violet. More and more metal showed. Soon, Henry climbed down from the rock and finished digging. He lifted out a metal box.

  “I’ll open it,” said Benny. But as hard as he tried, he could not pull off the lid.

  “Let me look,” said Henry. He ran his fingers around the edges. “It’s sealed with wax. Probably to keep air from getting inside.” Henry took a small screwdriver from his bike’s tool kit and scraped off the hundred-year-old wax. He handed the box to Benny. “Now try it.”

  This time the top opened easily. Benny lifted out a thick book. The Only was printed in gold on a black cover. “What kind of clue is this?” asked Benny, passing it to Jessie.

  “This book is very famous,” Jessie said. “It was written in England over a hundred and fifty years ago.”

  “I’ll bet the person who wrote the journal took this book up to the top of that rock,” said Henry. “It’s peaceful up there. A great place to read. What did the writer call it? ‘My home away from home, from which I traveled to worlds unknown’?”

  Violet took the book and ran her fingers lightly over the gold letters. “When I read books,” she said, “I travel to new and different worlds in my mind. That must be what the clue means. But I wonder why the person buried this book.”

  “Well,” said Jessie, “The Only is about an orphan—”

  “Like us?” asked Benny.

  “Not quite,” said Jessie. “This orphan is an ‘only.’ That means they have no brothers or sisters.”

  “Do you think,” Henry asked, “that the person who wrote the journal left The Only so we would know they’re an orphan?”

  “Yes,” said Jessie. “An orphan who came here to read.”

  Violet looked puzzled. “But the clue says, ‘Where I was raised from all my brothers.’”

  This stumped everyone for a while. Then Jessie said, “The boy in The Only grew up in an orphanage. Maybe his ‘brothers’ were the other orphans.”

  “I never heard of an orphanage in Greenfield,” said Henry. “Jessie, what does the next clue say?”

  Jessie flipped through the journal and read:

  The Only’s life was my life too

  Hard work, no toys, joys but a few

  I grew up as this tale is told

  Although my town is not as old

  “You were right,” said Violet. “They did grow up in an orphanage. Just like the character in the book. What else does it say?”

  Jessie read:

  I hope that this next clue still waits

  Inside my neighbor’s friendly gates

  I asked that Tyler please pass down, my

  Brownie treats that caught our town

  Benny laughed. “That’s funny. A brownie is a treat you eat. How can it catch anything?”

  “I read a picture book about an elf called a brownie who helped with the housework when the family was asleep,” said Violet.

  “Or maybe it’s a Brownie,” Jessie said, “like I was before Girl Scouts. Brownie treats could be cookies.”

  “It could be a recipe for brownies,” said Henry. He folded the shovel and put it back in his pack. “Whatever it is, I think we have to find the orphanage first. Once we do that, we can find the ‘neighbor’s friendly gates.’ That’s where we’ll find the next clue.”

  Jessie put The Only back into the metal box. She set it carefully into her bike basket. “Let’s check the library. They have a lot of information about Greenfield’s history.”

  The children biked toward town. As they went, the yellow Levi’s Lumber truck rumbled by on its way up to Wintham Manor. Levi honked and waved, then slowed the truck. “Remember to come take photos at the manor in the next few days,” he called. “I’ll be slicing up that big old tree. It’s a pretty exciting thing to see.”

  “Hey,” said Benny, “that rhymed.”

  Levi laughed. “By gosh, I’m a poet and didn’t even know it!” And his hearty laugh trailed away as he drove off.

  The children found librarian Trudy Silverton teetering at the top of a library ladder. She was reaching for a large book. An elderly gentleman stood below, wringing his hands. “Did you find it? Did you find it?” he kept asking.

  “That I did,” said Trudy. She brushed back the purple curl from her forehead. “But ‘finding’ and ‘reaching’ are two different things. This book’s too high for me.” She climbed down. “I’ll go ask the custodian to get it down.”

  “I can help,” said Henry. In seconds he climbed the ladder and brought down the book. The gentleman thanked him and hurried off.

  Trudy clasped her hands together. “Henry Alden, you’re my knight in shining armor.” Henry’s face turned red. He liked doing things for people, but he was embarrassed when they made a fuss over him. “Now,” said Trudy, “what brings my favorite foursome to my library. Oh, I know.” She looked at Benny. “You came to research your hundred-day project. Seems like everyone in your class has been here doing research.”

  Benny looked down at his shoes and shook his head. He still didn’t have an idea for his project.

  “Actually,” said Violet, “we need to research the way Greenfield was a hundred years ago. I remember when I took the library’s photography class, you showed us photos from back then.”

  “Absolutely,” said Trudy. “Follow me.”

  The Aldens had to hurry to keep up. Trudy entered a room labeled Archives. She quickly pulled out old maps, books, photos, and copies of the local newspaper, the Greenfield Gazette. The children helped her set everything on one of the big tables. “These items are too old to be in our computer,” she said. “Some are fragile, but I know you’ll be careful. Call if you need me.”

  The children worked quietly. They studied everything they coul
d think of to find a Greenfield orphanage. “I sure could use Grandfather’s magnifying glass,” said Jessie, squinting at an old newspaper. “The type on this page is small and fuzzy.”

  Violet twisted a pigtail as she searched through photo albums for pictures of an orphanage.

  Benny helped Henry carry rolls of maps to a different table. They found a few town maps that were more than one hundred years old. “I can’t believe how small Greenfield was back then,” said Henry.

  “What are these little numbers?” Benny asked. Tiny numbers were printed next to many buildings.

  “They help you find the names of the buildings,” said Henry. “Look.” All down the right side of the map were rows of numbers with names next to them. “This list is called the map’s key. It lists the names of important places on this map.” Henry pointed to the first name on the key: #1—City Hall. “Try to find number one on the map.”

  Henry and Benny searched and searched. The numbers on the map were small and hard to find. “This is like my word-find books,” said Benny. “Except this is a number find.” He kept looking. Suddenly, he saw it. “Here’s number one!” he cried. “This is City Hall.”

  “Great,” said Henry. “Try the next one.”

  Benny looked at the second entry on the key. It said #2—Fire Station. Then he searched the map for number two. This time it didn’t take long. “Here’s the fire station!”

  “That’s the idea,” said Henry. “Now, you take these maps, and I’ll take the others. Search the keys for Orphanage. Then try to find it on the map.”

  While Henry and Benny searched, Jessie read through old Greenfield Gazettes looking for articles about an orphanage. Nothing, nothing, nothing. And Violet could not find a single photo.

  “Orphanage!” cried Benny, pointing to the map. “The key says, ‘number seventeen, Orphanage.’”

 

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