“What …?” Norah was too shocked to speak.
For a moment, Norah and her assistant just looked at each other. Then Annette suddenly wheeled around to face Bob. “The whole thing was his idea,” she shrieked, pointing a finger of blame.
Norah threw a sharp glance at Bob Ferber. “What do you have to say for yourself, Bob?”
Bob opened his mouth several times as if about to speak, then closed it again. Finally he let out a sigh and said, “All right, it’s true. I was after your great-great-grandmother’s brooch.”
Norah stared at him, open-mouthed.
“The truth is, I happened to come across an old letter,” Bob confessed, “when I was working on your house, Norah. I guess it slipped through a crack in the floorboards a long time ago.”
“Oh?” Norah raised an eyebrow.
“It was a letter from Meg Eton’s grandmother.” Bob hesitated a moment, then plunged in. “The letter made it clear that Meg was planning to find a safe hiding place for her family heirloom—a brooch made from valuable gems.”
“No wonder you knew it was an old mystery,” said Jessie, nodding.
Bob gave a little half-hearted smile. “I guess I gave myself away, didn’t I?” Then he continued with his story. “I figured it was just the answer I was looking for. I knew, somehow or other, I had to get my hands on that brooch. The only problem was—” He stopped talking.
“You couldn’t pull it off alone, right?” Henry said, urging him on.
“Right,” said Bob.
Jessie guessed what was coming next. “You saw Norah’s ad in the paper for a research assistant, didn’t you?”
Bob didn’t deny it. “It started me thinking,” he said. “Annette was in the history program at college. If she got a job here, I’d have someone working on the inside. It all seemed simple enough.”
“I’m shocked at you, Bob.” Norah looked grim. “How could you think of stealing from me?”
“I never meant to hurt you, Norah.” He let out a weary sigh. “I was desperate. I ran out of money and I had bills piling up. My plan was to sell the brooch and make some quick cash. What could I do? My business was about to fold.”
“That doesn’t make it okay to steal,” Mrs. McGregor said sternly.
“I know it was wrong, but I really couldn’t see the harm.” Bob shrugged a little, trying to make light of it. “After all, folks seemed to think the brooch had been stolen anyway. I figured nobody would be the wiser if I—”
“Really did steal it,” finished Violet.
Bob nodded. “Turns out the joke’s on me,” he said with a hard laugh. “It seems the brooch was stolen—probably before Meg had a chance to hide it.”
Norah shook her head sadly. “You’re a bright young man, Bob,” she said in a quiet voice. “Why steal? That’s never the answer.”
Bob didn’t have a reply to that. He just walked away, his arms hanging limp at his sides.
Norah turned to her assistant. “You were really a part of this? I thought you were someone I could trust.” She sounded more hurt than angry. “You tried to convince me the brooch was long gone. And all the time you wanted it for yourself.”
Annette looked around. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on her. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not very proud of,” she said, swallowing hard. “I actually wanted nothing to do with Bob’s plan at first.”
“But then you changed your mind,” put in Jessie.
“I needed the cash. Besides, the research job sounded perfect. I figured I might as well try to find the brooch, too. Bob was going to split the money with me.”
“That’s why you were pumping us for information, wasn’t it?” said Violet.
Annette nodded. “I had a hunch you might have figured out a clue.”
“What about the photograph of Stone Pool?” asked Henry. “Did you take that?”
Annette nodded again. “I was standing out in the hall and I heard you talking about the photo. I couldn’t believe you’d pieced together so much. You’re smarter than I thought,” she added, looking around at them. “I was afraid you’d beat me to the hiding place.”
“What you don’t know,” said Jessie, “is that Norah had already made copies of the photograph.”
Annette looked surprised. “Well, I guess our plan wasn’t really—”
Violet jumped in. “Foolproof?”
“Oh, you heard me on the phone, did you?” Annette sighed.
“Your plan almost worked,” said Benny.
“Yes,” said Annette. “Things were going nicely until you kids arrived. You don’t give up, do you?”
“No,” said Henry. “Not until we fit all the pieces of the puzzle together.”
Jessie had a question. “There’s one part of this mystery I still don’t get,” she said. “How did you make it sound like the Chattering Bones was flowing under the bridge?”
Annette stared at Jessie, a blank look on her face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Norah had heard enough. “I won’t be needing your services anymore, Annette,” she told her. “Please pack your bags.”
“I’m sorry I betrayed your trust, Norah,” Annette said quietly. Then she hung her head and walked away.
CHAPTER 10
The Secret Hiding Place
“I just can’t believe Bob and Annette would do such a thing,” Norah was saying, as they sat around the kitchen table having a late-night snack.
“Some people!” exclaimed Mrs. McGregor, who was pouring milk for everyone.
Pam came over with a plate of cookies. She set them down on the table. As it turned out, she had alerted her great-aunt after hearing noises outside.
“I have a question,” said Violet. “If it wasn’t Spence who was trying to scare us
… and it wasn’t Annette … then who was it?”
“It was me,” Pam said in a small voice.
All eyes turned to her.
“You tried to scare us?” Violet asked in surprise.
“You’re the one we were chasing the other night?” Jessie said at the same time.
Nodding, Pam sank down into a chair. “I … I’m really sorry.”
“What on earth is this all about?” Norah looked at Pam in bewilderment.
Pam buried her head in her hands. “I thought my parents would come and get me if they heard about a ghost,” she said, sniffling. Jessie quietly handed her some tissues.
“But how could …” Benny’s eyebrows furrowed.
Pam lifted her head and looked at the youngest Alden. “You’re wondering how I did it?”
Benny nodded. “It sounded just like water rushing over rocks.”
“Wait a minute!” Henry snapped his fingers in sudden understanding. “You recorded the sound of the stream in the woods, didn’t you? That’s why we found your headband by the water.”
Pam glanced sheepishly at her great-aunt. “I know it was wrong to take your tape recorder, Aunt Norah.” Her voice wavered. “I’m really sorry.”
Norah was too stunned to speak.
“You went outside in the middle of the night, didn’t you?” Henry went on, watching Pam closely. “Then you played the tape back.”
Pam didn’t deny it. “I had it all planned before you got here.” She could hardly look the Aldens in the eye. “But I hadn’t counted on you being so nice.”
“We were hoping we could be friends,” Violet said quietly.
“You might not believe this,” Pam said, looking sad, “but I’d already decided not to try to scare you anymore.”
Norah hadn’t said a word for a while. Now she spoke up. “I knew you were unhappy, Pam, but I had no idea why.” She paused and sighed. “I still don’t.”
Pam twisted her hands in her lap. “I love spending time with you, Aunt Norah, but … I miss my parents.” Her face crumbled. “I just wish they wouldn’t go away all summer.”
“Have you ever told them how you feel?” Jessie asked.
Pam lowered
her eyes, then shook her head.
“Maybe it’s time you did.” Norah put a hand gently on Pam’s arm. “They’re not mind-readers, you know. Why don’t we give them a call first thing in the morning?”
“I like that idea,” said Pam, giving her great-aunt a watery smile.
“I’m sure you’re always in their thoughts,” Mrs. McGregor added kindly. “And in their hearts.”
Suddenly Violet’s mouth dropped open and she almost spilled her milk. A wild idea was flitting through her head. “We have to go back!” she cried.
“Back … where?” asked Henry.
“Back to the bridge!” Violet was on her feet in a flash. She grabbed the flashlight and headed for the door.
Baffled, the others followed outside. When they reached the middle of the bridge, Violet swept the flashlight beam back and forth. It finally came to rest on the stone with the shape of a heart in it.
“What’s going on?” Henry asked, curiously.
Violet didn’t answer right away. With a finger, she traced the name inside the heart—the name MEG.
“I don’t get it,” said Benny.
“When Mrs. McGregor said Pam was always in her parents’ hearts, it suddenly hit me.” Violet’s eyes were shining. “Look at the name inside this heart.”
Henry scratched behind his neck. “I’m not following you, Violet.”
“Remember the first two lines of Meg’s verse?” she said.
Everybody recited at the same time, “When last goes first, and first goes last.”
Henry suddenly drew in his breath, catching on. “If you switch the letters around, then—”
“MEG becomes GEM!!” finished Jessie, her eyes wide.
“Oh, my!” said Norah. “Meg’s brooch was made from precious gems.”
Henry said, “I think we just found the final clue.”
“Wait right here,” said Norah, heading for the house. She returned a moment later holding a screwdriver. “This is all I could find. But it should do the trick.”
With that, Henry set to work. The mortar crumbled easily as he jabbed away at it. When the stone was finally loose, he put his hands on either side, then he wiggled and pulled with all his might. Slowly the stone came out, revealing a gaping hole.
When Violet shone the flashlight’s beam into the opening, Benny couldn’t stand the suspense. “Do you see anything, Violet?” he wanted to know.
“I’m afraid I can’t—wait!” Violet said.
Everyone gasped when Violet removed a small rotted leather pouch from the hole. For a moment they all remained still, staring at the pouch. Then Violet held it out to Norah.
Untying the drawstring, Norah gently pulled out a small cloth bundle. Her eyes widened as she unrolled the cloth to reveal a dazzling brooch. “Oh!” A broad smile spread across her face.
The Aldens let out a cheer. So did Pam.
“I’ve never seen anything like it!” exclaimed Mrs. McGregor.
“No wonder Meg wanted to keep it safe,” Henry said.
Norah nodded. “But she didn’t want it hidden away forever. So she left clues for her descendants to follow.”
But something was still bothering Benny. “What about the Chattering Bones?” he said, puzzled. “Does it haunt the bridge? Or doesn’t it?”
Norah put an arm around the youngest Alden. “Some questions can never be answered, Benny,” she said. “There will always be mysteries.”
“Well, guess what, Norah?” Benny said with a grin. “Mysteries just happen to be our—”
“Specialty!” everyone said together.
About the Author
GERTRUDE CHANDLER WARNER discovered when she was teaching that many readers who like an exciting story could find no books that were both easy and fun to read. She decided to try to meet this need, and her first book, The Boxcar Children, quickly proved she had succeeded.
Miss Warner drew on her own experiences to write the mystery. As a child she spent hours watching trains go by on the tracks opposite her family home. She often dreamed about what it would be like to set up housekeeping in a caboose or freight car — the situation the Alden children find themselves in.
When Miss Warner received requests for more adventures involving Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny Alden, she began additional stories. In each, she chose a special setting and introduced unusual or eccentric characters who liked the unpredictable.
While the mystery element is central to each of Miss Warner’s books, she never thought of them as strictly juvenile mysteries. She liked to stress the Aldens’ independence and resourcefulness and their solid New England devotion to using up and making do. The Aldens go about most of their adventures with as little adult supervision as possible — something else that delights young readers.
Miss Warner lived in Putnam, Connecticut, until her death in 1979. During her lifetime, she received hundreds of letters from girls and boys telling her how much they liked her books.
The Boxcar Children Mysteries
The Boxcar Children
Surprise Island
The Yellow House Mystery
Mystery Ranch
Mike’s Mystery
Blue Bay Mystery
The Woodshed Mystery
The Lighthouse Mystery
Mountain Top Mystery
Schoolhouse Mystery
Caboose Mystery
Houseboat Mystery
Snowbound Mystery
Tree House Mystery
Bicycle Mystery
Mystery in the Sand
Mystery Behind the Wall
Bus Station Mystery
Benny Uncovers a Mystery
The Haunted Cabin Mystery
The Deserted Library Mystery
The Animal Shelter Mystery
The Old Motel Mystery
The Mystery of the Hidden Painting
The Amusement Park Mystery
The Mystery of the Mixed-Up Zoo
The Camp-Out Mystery
The Mystery Girl
The Mystery Cruise
The Disappearing Friend Mystery
The Mystery of the Singing Ghost
Mystery in the Snow
The Pizza Mystery
The Mystery Horse
The Mystery at the Dog Show
The Castle Mystery
The Mystery of the Lost Village
The Mystery on the Ice
The Mystery of the Purple Pool
The Ghost Ship Mystery
The Mystery in Washington, DC
The Canoe Trip Mystery
The Mystery of the Hidden Beach
The Mystery of the Missing Cat
The Mystery at Snowflake Inn
The Mystery on Stage
The Dinosaur Mystery
The Mystery of the Stolen Music
The Mystery at the Ball Park
The Chocolate Sundae Mystery
The Mystery of the Hot Air Balloon
The Mystery Bookstore
The Pilgrim Village Mystery
The Mystery of the Stolen Boxcar
Mystery in the Cave
The Mystery on the Train
The Mystery at the Fair
The Mystery of the Lost Mine
The Guide Dog Mystery
The Hurricane Mystery
The Pet Shop Mystery
The Mystery of the Secret Message
The Firehouse Mystery
The Mystery in San Francisco
The Niagara Falls Mystery
The Mystery at the Alamo
The Outer Space Mystery
The Soccer Mystery
The Mystery in the Old Attic
The Growling Bear Mystery
The Mystery of the Lake Monster
The Mystery at Peacock Hall
The Windy City Mystery
The Black Pearl Mystery
The Cereal Box Mystery
The Panther Mystery
The Mystery of the Queen’s Jewels
The Stolen
Sword Mystery
The Basketball Mystery
The Movie Star Mystery
The Mystery of the Black Raven
The Mystery of the Pirate’s Map
The Mystery in the Mall
The Mystery in New York
The Gymnastics Mystery
The Poison Frog Mystery
The Mystery of the Empty Safe
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 2005 by Albert Whitman & Company
978-1-4532-2892-0
This 2011 edition distributed by Open Road Integrated Media
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The Ghost of the Chattering Bones Page 6