Beth stuck her shovel into the ground. “Yuck,” she said. “The ground below here is wet.”
York examined the ground. “Water from the cesspool is leaking. Everyone out.”
The children handed their shovels to Rosie’s brothers. They quickly climbed out of the trench.
Clyde said, “Curate Whitehead and Dr. Snow, we found something.”
York called up, “Dirty water from the cesspool has leaked into the clean well water.” He climbed out of the pit too.
Henry and Dr. Snow hurried over to him.
York said, “The leaking cesspool contaminated the pump’s water. I’ll do a few more tests before I send you both a report.” He waved to Henry and Dr. Snow.
“The mystery is solved,” Henry said. “Dr. Snow, I owe you an apology. You were right. The disease was in the water.”
“I don’t need an apology,” Dr. Snow said. “Please tell the leaders of your church about this. Tell everyone who will listen. Then maybe we can stop the next outbreak of cholera.”
“I will,” Henry said. “I will tell a lot of people. We now know how the disease spread. We can help people around here stay healthy.”
Beth turned to Curate Whitehead. She asked, “Did you find the index case?”
“Yes. I found the first person to get sick,” he said.
“Who was it?” Dr. Snow asked.
Henry sighed. “Mrs. Lewis’s baby was the first to die. Mrs. Lewis probably washed the baby’s diapers. Then she threw the water into the cesspool.”
Beth pointed to the trench. “So the diaper water leaked through the bricks into the well water,” she said.
Henry nodded.
Dr. Snow said, “That makes logical sense.”
Clyde gave a low whistle.
Rosie’s brothers did the same.
Oscar barked.
Beth turned to Patrick. He looked sick to his stomach.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I drank water from this pump. And that dirty water has been leaking into the well. Yuck!” Patrick said. “I might get cholera.”
“Wait. The Imagination Station can cure you,” Beth whispered. “We just need to find the first liquid. Then it will reappear.”
Patrick nodded.
Clyde said, “Soon we can put the handle back on the pump.”
“Once the water is completely clean,” Henry said. “That may take some time. But the handle’s return will mark a good day.”
“Did you know Mrs. Lewis’s husband is sick now?” Patrick asked. “She’ll clean his clothes and dump that water into the cesspool too.”
“The leak from this cesspool will start the sickness again,” Dr. Snow said. “Someone needs to report this cesspool. It must be repaired or removed. No one can drink the water. The pump handle needs to stay off for a while.”
“I’ll tell the board,” Henry said. “They will take action.”
“Very well. Goodbye, then,” Dr. Snow said. He waved and left abruptly.
They all watched Dr. Snow hurry away.
“That’s Dr. Snow’s problem,” Clyde said. “He is smart and dedicated. But his abrupt ways do not make him likable.”
“Dr. Snow did figure things out,” Henry said.
“But you will help everyone understand what caused the cholera outbreak,” Patrick said.
“God put the right people in the right place at the right time,” Beth said.
Cholera would stop spreading and people would stop dying, thanks to Dr. Snow. But the people in London would learn about it from Curate Whitehead.
Just then, Old Willie turned the corner onto Broad Street. “I’ve got you now!” he shouted. Two strong men were on either side of him.
Hiram’s Store
Patrick took a step behind the curate. He didn’t want Old Willie to see him. He didn’t want to go back to the workhouse.
Henry smiled. “How can I help you?” he asked Old Willie.
Old Willie stopped in front of him. His guards stopped on either side of him. “Give me back my worker,” he said.
“Which one?” Henry asked.
“The one you took from me this morning,” Old Willie said.
“I found many workers today,” Henry said. He stepped aside and showed all five of the boys. They wore similar clothing and were all caked with dirt.
“I can’t tell them apart,” Old Willie said.
“That’s fine,” Henry said. “Tell me his name. Then I’ll point him out to you.”
“His name?” Old Willie said. “How would I know his name? I’m not his father.”
“You can’t tell me his name?” Henry asked. “Then I can’t return the worker.”
Old Willie’s face turned red. “It’s either that one or that one,” he said. He pointed to Patrick and the youngest of Rosie’s brothers.
“I doubt they’ll tell you which is which,” Henry said.
Old Willie leaned forward. His hands balled into fists. “I know Clyde’s name,” he said. “He can return to the workhouse with me.”
“That may be a problem,” Henry said. “Clyde owns Hiram’s Oil Store.”
Old Willie gave a mean laugh. “Clyde won’t be an owner of it for long. He has to pay rent tomorrow. But I hear he won’t be able to do that. I’ll be back for him in the morning,” he said.
Oscar growled.
Old Willie backed up.
Oscar charged Old Willie with bared teeth. Old Willie and his guards fled.
Henry turned to Clyde. “I’m sorry, son. Come by the boardinghouse later. We’ll figure out something,” he said.
Henry held up Dr. Snow’s map. “Dr. Snow forgot this. I must return it to him.”
“Thank you for your help, Curate Whitehead,” Patrick said.
“Helping people is what I do,” Henry said. He gave each child a coin. Then he waved and walked down the street away from them.
The youngest of Rosie’s brothers asked, “Should we fill in the hole?”
Clyde shook his head no. “York needs to do more testing,” he said.
Rosie’s brothers left. The youngest turned back to Patrick and Clyde. He said, “Thanks for stopping us from drinking that water.” Then he hurried away with his brothers.
Patrick only wanted to do one thing. He wanted to search for the liquid for the Imagination Station. He had to find it. Only Whit’s new invention inside the Imagination Station could cure him. But where could the liquid be?
Beth gave Patrick a smile. “Let’s go to Hiram’s Oil Store,” she said.
“The store might have the liquid you need,” Clyde said.
Beth said, “We can help you search for your uncle’s will, too.”
Clyde sighed. “One last time,” he said.
Oscar trotted beside them to Hiram’s Oil Store. He barked at the door.
“His bed is inside,” Clyde said. “Oscar napped there every day. At night before my uncle closed the shop, he would pet Oscar. Then he and Oscar would head home.”
Patrick scratched the top of Oscar’s head.
Clyde took a key from his pocket. He unlocked the dark-green door. They all went inside the store.
Clyde lit an oil lamp. The light brightened the store.
Many types of oil were in glass jars on shelves. Some liquids were already in oil lamps.
Patrick liked the store. It smelled like something had just been painted.
Oscar hurried to a blanket in the far corner of the room. Then he sat on it.
Beth laughed. “That blanket isn’t a throne,” she said. “But you seem to like it.” She started searching the store’s shelves.
Patrick looked under the counter. “Your uncle had to put the money he made each day somewhere. What did your uncle do the same every night?” he asked.
“We dusted the shelves and put the oils away,” Clyde said. He opened a cupboard. “We made a list of what was sold. Then my uncle petted and dethroned Oscar. I’d go in the back room to sleep.”
“He de
throned Oscar?” Patrick asked. He walked toward Oscar. “What does that mean?”
“It meant Oscar had to leave his blanket,” Clyde said. “So he could go home with my uncle.”
Beth joined Patrick. “Maybe he meant something different,” Beth said. She looked at Patrick.
Patrick nodded. “We need to dethrone Oscar,” he said. He picked up the dog.
Beth pulled away the blanket. “Look,” she said.
Clyde hurried over.
Under the blanket was a square board.
Patrick set Oscar down. He pulled up the board.
Below the floor was a dark metal box.
Patrick lifted it out of the hole. He said, “It has a keyless padlock on it.”
“Those are new,” Clyde said. “But I don’t know the combination.”
“Are there six numbers?” Beth asked.
Patrick nodded.
Beth was excited. She remembered the numbers on the ribbon. “Try 1-7-8-8-6-6,” she said. She held her breath.
Clyde turned the dials and pulled.
Click! The padlock opened.
The Green Light
Patrick leaned forward.
Clyde opened the lid.
Inside was a stack of papers and coins. “Our rent money is here,” Clyde said. He picked up the papers. “This is Uncle Hiram’s will.”
“Read it,” Patrick said.
“I only know my numbers and letters for customer names,” Clyde said. He passed the paper to Patrick.
Patrick read it. He said, “Your uncle left everything to both your aunt and to you.”
Clyde jumped up. “I have a way to make a living.” Clyde laughed. “I have to tell my aunt,” he said.
Patrick stood up. “This is great!” he said.
“But first,” Clyde said, “let me help you.” He went to the counter and put on a work apron. “Is this the liquid you’re looking for?” he asked. He opened a jar.
Patrick and Beth smiled at each other.
Patrick took the black box out of his pocket. He placed its wand in the liquid. No green light. Clyde closed the lid and wiped the wand with an oil rag. He opened another jar.
Patrick put the wand in the oil. No green light.
Clyde opened container after container.
“Maybe the right liquid isn’t here,” Beth said.
Patrick was afraid Beth was right. But he was also scared about finding the right liquid. What if it didn’t matter? What if the Imagination Station didn’t return? What if they were stuck here for the rest of their lives?
Clyde went behind the counter. “Let’s try the liquid from America,” he said. He found the jar and opened it.
Patrick stuck the wand in the gray-blue liquid. The button on the box turned green.
“This is it!” Beth said.
Patrick whooped.
“How interesting,” Clyde said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” Clyde turned the oil label around. “What does it say?”
Patrick said, “It’s called Tesla’s Oil.”
Beth laughed. Tesla had helped Whit build the Model T Imagination Station. “Yay for Tesla’s Oil!” she said.
“Wait,” Patrick said. He leaned toward Beth and whispered, “This is 1854. Tesla wasn’t born yet.”
Beth whispered, “Maybe he kept trying to build a time machine. Maybe he sent this special oil back in time.”
Patrick nodded. They might not know how the oil got to Hiram’s Oil Store. But it was the oil they needed.
Patrick heard the hum of the Imagination Station. He smiled. The hum was a welcome sound. The Model T appeared outside the shop’s large windows.
Patrick picked up the oil. “We have to go,” Patrick said.
“Goodbye,” Clyde said. “Thank you for all your help!”
Beth waved goodbye. “Thank you for yours, too,” she said.
“You’ve saved my life,” Patrick said.
“All I did was give you oil,” Clyde said. He laughed.
Patrick followed Beth outside.
“I’m so glad to see the Imagination Station,” Patrick said. “I thought we might be stuck here. I was afraid too much of its power source had leaked.”
“Me too,” Beth said. “But now we can go home.”
Patrick hopped into the passenger seat.
Beth slid into the driver’s seat.
Patrick found the compartment on the passenger side. He placed Tesla’s oil inside. Then he noticed a keyhole next to the compartment. He finally knew what his gift was for.
Patrick took the small key out of his pocket. It fit the lock perfectly. Patrick turned the key.
A sliding panel moved to cover the compartment. Then the panel opened. The container full of Tesla’s oil was no longer there. The oil was now inside the Imagination Station.
Beth put on her seat belt. “Ready?” she asked.
Patrick left the key in the lock. He buckled his seat belt. He couldn’t wait for the Imagination Station to cure him. He couldn’t wait to go home.
Beth hit the big red button.
The Model T sprayed them with a fine mist.
“What’s happening?” Beth asked.
Patrick laughed. “Maybe it found the cholera germ on me. No germs are leaving with us,” he said. “That means I won’t have cholera.”
The Imagination Station made a loud squeak. Then metal scraped against metal.
“I must have been real sick,” Patrick said. But something didn’t feel right.
Patrick heard the sound of glass shattering. He looked at Beth.
“There’s that smell again,” Beth said.
Patrick smelled it too. There was the scent of apricots, lemons, pears, and oranges.
The fine mist grew into a heavier spray. Drops of water began to rain on the inside of the Model T.
Then everything went black.
Find out about the next adventure—Swept into the Sea—at TheImaginationStation.com.
Secret Word Puzzle
Patrick and Beth discovered the first liquid to keep the Imagination Station running. They also learned about cholera and overcame their fears. Now you can discover the cure for your fears.
Each number stands for a letter. Write the correct letter in each blank on the next page. The word in the boxes is the secret word.
1 W
5 H
9 N
13 T
2 D
6 A
10 Y
14 R
3 E
7 U
11 M
15 S
4 O
8 F
12 I
16 L
Go to TheImaginationStation.com.
Find the cover of this book.
Click on “Secret Word.”
Type in the answer,
and you’ll receive a prize.
About the Authors
AUTHOR CHRIS BRACK
loves to read all kinds of books, especially kids’ books. She, her husband, and her sons share their house with Copper, a basset hound, and Ollie, a huge tomcat.
AUTHOR SHEILA SEIFERT
is an award-winning coauthor of many books, such as Bible Kidventures: Stories of Danger and Courage. She likes to find good books for kids to read. Parents can find her bimonthly book flyer at http://simpleliterature.com/bookclub/.
THE KEY TO ADVENTURE LIES WITHIN YOUR IMAGINATION.
Voyage with the Vikings
Attack at the Arena
Peril in the Palace
Revenge of the Red Knight
Showdown with the Shepherd
Problems in Plymouth
Secret of the Prince’s Tomb
Battle for Cannibal Island
Escape to the Hiding Place
Challenge on the Hill of Fire
Hunt for the Devil’s Dragon
Danger on a Silent Night
The Redcoats Are Coming!
Captured on the High Seas
Surprise at Yorktown
>
Doomsday in Pompeii
In Fear of the Spear
Trouble on the Orphan Train
Light in the Lions’ Den
Inferno in Tokyo
Madman in Manhattan
Freedom at the Falls
Terror in the Tunnel
Rescue on the River
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Poison at the Pump Page 5