by Shari Barr
Meee-oowww! Ozzie hissed, jumping back into the safety of the school.
Rrrufff! Biscuit barked, kicking with his hind legs until he scrambled through the open window.
“Biscuit!” Kate yelled, sprinting across the schoolyard. “Get back here!”
McKenzie raced after her friend who was standing on tiptoe peering through the window. “Let’s go in through the back door,” she said, tugging Kate’s arm.
McKenzie stepped onto the porch and grasped the doorknob. She shoved, but it held fast.
“It’s locked,” she said with surprise. “That’s weird that Uncle Luke locked the door but left the window wide open.”
“Maybe he was in a hurry and just forgot,” Kate said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Maybe so, but we can still get in,” McKenzie said, returning to the open window. She scrambled on top of the wooden box and grabbed the window frame in both hands. It groaned and squeaked as she shoved it all the way up. She swung her leg over the sill and dropped to the floor inside with a thud.
“Biscuit!” Kate cried, crawling in behind McKenzie. “Where are you?”
McKenzie glanced about the classroom, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Rows of old wooden desks sat in front of the teacher’s desk. Several old-fashioned tin lunch buckets sat on a shelf. Some had rust around the edges. The alphabet was written in cursive on the blackboard. She sniffed the musty, chalky smell.
McKenzie crossed the room and stepped into the shadowy hall. She heard the mutt’s toenails clicking on the wooden floor as he chased Ozzie into the hallway.
“He’s going upstairs,” she hollered to Kate.
The scampering sound of the four-legged creatures faded as Biscuit and Ozzie bounded up the wooden steps, disappearing around the stairway landing.
“I’ll get him,” Kate called as she sprinted past McKenzie. She stopped and glanced around when she reached the stairs. “Hey, where’s the light switch?”
McKenzie glanced around then she remembered. “None of these historical buildings have electricity. The director of Heritage Village wanted everything to be realistic, since most buildings didn’t have electricity in 1900.”
“No electricity!” Kate exclaimed. “I could never have lived back then! I would go absolutely nuts.”
McKenzie giggled as she tried to imagine Kate living without electricity or batteries. The girl had every gadget imaginable. She owned electronics that McKenzie didn’t even know had been invented yet.
“Ughh!” Kate groaned as she turned and continued up the darkened stairway. “I’m already going crazy.”
McKenzie started up the stairs after Kate and stopped. A flash of red on the step caught her eye. Stooping, she realized it was a granola bar wrapper. She stuffed it into the pocket of her jean shorts and hurried up the stairs.
She stood in a large room. The sun had dropped over the horizon, so little daylight filtered through the windows. She glanced around the room and after a moment spied the cat.
“Come here, kitty,” Kate said, reaching her hands to the top of a bookcase. Ozzie peered at her from the top shelf. Then he hissed at Biscuit.
“Ozzie won’t come down until he’s ready,” McKenzie said. “We might as well go.”
Kate walked across the room and stopped in front of a window. “Hey, that building has a light in it.”
McKenzie hurried to her side, looking in the direction Kate pointed. “That’s the old town library. It doesn’t have electricity either. Somebody must be in there with a flashlight. Let’s go see.”
McKenzie fled across the room, her shoes pounding against the floor. Kate scooped Biscuit into her arms and hurried after her.
Minutes later the girls crawled back out the window. McKenzie rounded the side of the school building. She headed down the street to the old library at the end of the block.
“Wait,” Kate cried, trying to hold on to the squirming dog.
McKenzie stopped, letting Kate catch up. Long shadows fell across the street. Branches scratched against the second-story window panes of the empty stores. Lightning bugs flickered as they flitted between the trees and bushes.
“We have to hurry,” McKenzie said. “It’s almost dark, and I don’t want whoever is in there to get away.”
The girls hurried down the boardwalk, their shoes slapping against the boards. Biscuit lunged from Kate’s arms. He darted across the street toward the building sitting by itself on a corner lot. Black lettering above the door read LIBRARY.
The dog’s bark shattered the stillness. Biscuit ran to the library, howling at the front door. Movement at the window caught McKenzie’s eye.
“Look! Somebody’s there,” McKenzie whispered, clutching Kate’s arm.
The light suddenly went out. Seconds later, a door slammed at the back of the library. Biscuit barked as he raced around the building.
McKenzie darted across the street. She rounded the corner of the library and saw Biscuit bounding into a grove of trees at the edge of the lawn.
“Do you see anyone?” Kate asked, arriving breathlessly at McKenzie’s side.
“No.” McKenzie stared at the shadowy darkness of the trees. “Whoever was there is gone already.”
“Did I see somebody in the trees?” she asked. “Or was it just my imagination?”
“I didn’t see anyone,” Kate answered.
McKenzie shook her head and turned back to the library. The screen door was shut, but the inside door stood wide open. Despite the heat, McKenzie felt a shiver run up her back. “Someone was here, and why did that person leave so fast?”
“Come here, Biscuit. Here, boy,” Kate called.
The dog stood staring into the trees, his legs planted firmly, and his tail twitching. With a final yip, he trotted back to the girls, his leash trailing behind him.
McKenzie peered through the screen door. “I think we’d better check things out inside. Let Biscuit go in first.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty mean, isn’t he?” Kate said with a nervous giggle. “He should scare any burglar away.”
“He’s small but mighty,” McKenzie said. The screen door creaked as she pulled it open.
Biscuit scampered inside, disappearing around the corner. His paw patters faded as he scrambled to the front of the library.
“I’m going in,” McKenzie muttered. “I think it’s safe.”
She stepped inside and held the door open for Kate. She wrinkled her nose, sniffing at the musty smell of old books and newspapers.
“I wish we had a better light than just the flashlight on your phone,” Kate said, moving closer to her friend.
“Hey, I know what we can do.” McKenzie fumbled to the librarian’s desk on the far side of the room. She pulled open a drawer, reached in, and pulled out a small box. “Uncle Luke says they keep matches in every building,” she said.
McKenzie struck a match on the outside of the box and lit an oil lamp sitting on the desk. She shined the lamp around the tiny room. Bookshelves lined all the walls.
“Everything looks okay in here,” McKenzie said.
The girls heard a muffled yip from another room. They hurried toward the yipping and stepped into a long, narrow room. A bookcase on one side was crammed with old books from floor to ceiling. Biscuit sat on the floor, his nose pointed toward a small table.
“Hold your light over here,” Kate said, picking up an open book lying on the table.
“It’s an old journal,” McKenzie said as Kate held the book closer to the light. “I wonder if the intruder was looking at this.”
Kate scanned the opened page. “It doesn’t look too interesting. It’s mainly notes some guy named Harley Drake wrote about his farm. He wrote about the weather and when crops were planted. Stuff like that.”
“Why would someone snoop around in here after dark to read about weather in the early 1900s? Is anything else in there?” McKenzie asked, peering at the faded ink writings.
Kate squinted. “Hey, there is something else here—da
ted April 17, 1921. It’s a short poem or something: ‘Beneath the shimmering rose man’s lights, you’ll find riches sleeping where the green eyes shine.’”
McKenzie leaned forward, rereading the words slowly. She read the journal entries before and after April 17. All the other entries were strictly farm related—like weather reports and which cow had a calf.
“Something’s weird,” she said. “Why did Mr. Drake write a silly little poem in a journal of farming records?”
Suddenly, a twinge of excitement rippled up her arms.
“Kate, this isn’t just a poem. It’s a riddle—a riddle about a hidden treasure!”
The Intruder
“A treasure?” Kate asked, her eyes wide with amazement. “Really? Maybe it’s just a joke?”
McKenzie shook her head. “I don’t think so. Why would Mr. Drake write a joke in a journal of farming records? I think he wrote the verse in the journal to hide it. I bet the person who was in here was looking at this and didn’t have time to put it away.”
Kate paused before speaking. “Or, maybe one of the visitors pulled it off the shelf and the intruder didn’t even know it was here.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” McKenzie admitted. “But I think we need to get out of here and tell Uncle Luke. This library should have been locked. He needs to know someone was in here.”
“Maybe there are more clues in the journal. Do you think we can take it with us?” Kate asked, ruffling through the pages.
McKenzie shook her head. “I don’t think we should. At least not until we’ve talked to Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Kate said, laying the journal back down on the table. “Why don’t you take a picture with your cell phone? My phone takes good nighttime shots, but the battery is dead.”
“Good idea,” McKenzie said, pulling her phone from her jeans pocket. “But mine is just an ordinary phone. It might be too dark in here, but I’ll try.” She pointed her phone at the book and snapped a couple of quick pictures. “Got it.”
“We’d better go so we can still see to get home.” Kate placed the journal back on the table.
Minutes later the girls slipped out the back door of the little library. McKenzie pulled the door shut behind them. An uneasy feeling crept over her as she stepped off the porch into the still night.
“What if someone’s watching us from the trees?” she asked. “Maybe the footprints in the cornfield belong to a prowler sneaking around the Farms.”
“Ooh, I hope not,” Kate said with a shiver.
McKenzie shook off the uneasy feeling and hurried across the yard.
“Wait up,” Kate said, scooping Biscuit into her arms.
The girls scurried through the village of Cedar Grove. McKenzie led, thankful for the glow of the moon to light their way. Minutes later, they arrived at the fence surrounding Heritage Farms and Village. They slipped through the iron gate and ran up the lane to Luke and Cara Randall’s home.
They raced into the house, the door slamming behind them. McKenzie’s aunt and uncle sat on the couch in the family room, watching one of Uncle Luke’s favorite television programs, an old-time western.
“There you two are,” Aunt Cara said, balancing a bowl of popcorn on her lap. “We were starting to think you got lost.”
Uncle Luke motioned for the girls to come closer. “See that actor right there?” he pointed to a man on the screen riding a horse. “That’s John Wayne. He was born right up the road a ways in Winterset.”
“Really?” Kate asked, settling on the corner of the coffee table. “He’s famous, isn’t he?”
“He made a lot of movies in his day,” Uncle Luke said. “Winterset gets a lot of visitors to his birthplace. So do the covered bridges around there in Madison County.”
“I’ve never seen a covered bridge,” Kate said, watching the old black and white TV show.
“Maybe we can go see one before you girls leave,” Aunt Cara said. “There’s one close by.”
“Something’s going on at the library,” McKenzie interrupted. “We saw a light in there! Whoever was in there ran off when they heard us coming. But we know the person was looking at the old journals because one was left out.”
Uncle Luke looked up from his movie, staring at his niece. “That door should have been locked. Was it unlocked when you got there?”
“Yes, we walked right in. We heard the screen door slam shut, but by the time we got back there, the person was gone,” McKenzie explained. “We were going to bring the journal back with us but were afraid maybe you wouldn’t want us to.”
“Somebody left a window open at the old school too,” Kate said, scratching Biscuit’s ears as he sat at her feet.
“Luke, do you think we have an intruder?” Aunt Cara asked, looking worried.
“I’ll call Ross and see if he knows what’s going on.” Uncle Luke pulled his cell phone from his pocket, punched a few buttons, and stepped into the kitchen.
A minute later, he returned with a flashlight.
“Ross knows he locked everything earlier this evening. He’ll meet me at the library so we can check things out.”
“Uncle Luke, can we look at the journal that was left out? Will you bring it back with you?” McKenzie asked.
“Sure, girls,” Uncle Luke responded. He grabbed a key ring and strode out the back door. McKenzie heard the SUV roar to life.
“Who’s Ross?” Kate asked, cupping her hands around her eyes as she peered out the window.
“He’s our maintenance man at Heritage.” Aunt Cara walked to the kitchen and placed a bag of popcorn in the microwave. “He lives in a house on the north edge of the property. He’s the most dependable employee we’ve got. I’m sure he would have locked everything up.”
“Does anyone else have a set of keys?” McKenzie asked.
“The office manager keeps a set in the administration building, but they’re well guarded.” Aunt Cara took two bottles of strawberry-flavored water from the fridge and handed them to the girls. When she opened the microwave door, the aroma of buttered popcorn filled the air.
“Thanks.” McKenzie took the bag her aunt offered and motioned for Kate to follow her upstairs.
Inside the room they shared, McKenzie kicked off her shoes and plopped onto the double bed. She leaned against the headboard and ripped open the bag of popcorn.
“Can you download the journal picture from my phone to your laptop?”
“Sure,” Kate said, pulling her laptop and a tiny printer from her backpack in the corner. She sat cross-legged on the bed beside McKenzie. Seconds later the picture she had taken in the old library spewed out of the portable printer.
McKenzie grabbed the page and stretched flat on her back. She held the paper above her and reread the verse in the old journal.
“Oh, no,” she cried. “Only part of the riddle showed up. The last part is all dark and blurry. All I can read is ‘Beneath the shimmering rose man’s lights.’ And I don’t remember the rest of the riddle, do you?”
Kate shook her head as she peered over McKenzie’s shoulder. “All I remember is something about treasure.”
McKenzie’s brow furrowed as she thought. “It’s useless. I can’t remember the riddle.”
“At least we have part of it,” McKenzie continued. “But I wonder who the rose man is.”
Kate peered over McKenzie’s shoulder. “Good question. I’m going to email this picture to the other Camp Club Girls and tell them what’s going on. Maybe they can help us solve this mystery.”
McKenzie sat up, leaning against the headboard. She popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth and tossed one to Biscuit sitting on the floor beside the bed. She thought about the Camp Club Girls. McKenzie had often thanked God for bringing the six girls together. Though they varied in age, she couldn’t imagine finding five better friends than these girls. Fortunately, she had been able to travel and see some of them at different places around the country. One of the best things about being
with them was solving mysteries together.
“There,” Kate said, interrupting McKenzie’s thoughts. “Nobody is online right now, but I sent the picture of the journal page. I bet between the six of us, we can solve this mystery, especially once we get the rest of the riddle.”
“Wouldn’t it be neat to find this treasure—if there really is one?” McKenzie asked.
McKenzie heard a door slam downstairs then the voices of her aunt and uncle. “Uncle Luke is back. Let’s see what he found out.”
She jumped from the bed and raced down the stairs with Kate close behind.
“Ross thought for sure he locked the library door,” Uncle Luke said as he sat at the kitchen table with Aunt Cara. “But now he’s thinking maybe he didn’t double check. We figure the door didn’t latch and an intruder snuck in. Ross feels just awful about it. But no damage is done. We all make mistakes.”
“Did you see the journal on the table in the back room?” McKenzie asked.
“No books were out, so I didn’t bring the journal back with me,” Uncle Luke said, filling a glass of water from the faucet. “We checked out the open window at the school too. Nothing seems to be missing there. Ross thinks he must have forgotten to shut that window when he was making his rounds.”
“It’s no wonder,” Aunt Cara said in a sympathetic voice. “Ross has so much to worry about, with his mother being sick.”
Uncle Luke sat back down at the table, seeming unconcerned about the missing journal. He and Aunt Cara continued chatting back and forth.
“We didn’t put the journal away. What happened to it?” McKenzie whispered to Kate. “Did the intruder come back?”
“I think the intruder is very intelligent,” Kate said. “He’s hiding the evidence.”
The girls told Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara goodnight, then scurried back upstairs. Two of the Camp Club Girls were in their chat room when the girls logged in to find notes from twelve-year-old Alexis, who lived in Sacramento, California, and fourteen-year-old Elizabeth, who lived in Amarillo, Texas.