Mystery of the Haunted Boxcar

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  “Now can we have the cookies?” Benny asked. He had gotten an extra one from Mrs. McGregor to replace the missing one.

  “Not yet,” said Violet. “I’ll be right back.” She ran back to the house.

  “What is she doing?” Benny asked. “I’ve been waiting all day for my other cookie.”

  Henry and Jessie shrugged.

  When Violet returned, she was holding a pitcher of cold milk and a stack of paper cups.

  “Good thinking!” Jessie said. Picking up the flashlight, she walked over to the corner where they’d left the cookie tin.

  As she walked back with the tin, Benny said, “Wait a minute!”

  “I thought you wanted a cookie right away,” Jessie said.

  “I do, but I just realized something,” Benny explained. “See how the flashlight beam seems to kind of float as Jessie carries it? The light I saw last night moved like that, too.”

  “Maybe that’s what it was,” said Henry. “Maybe someone was over here carrying a flashlight.”

  “That explains why the light was bouncing along like that,” Benny said.

  “But we still don’t know who it was,” Violet reminded him.

  Jessie set the cookie tin next to the flashlight in the center of all the sleeping bags. Violet poured each of them a cup of milk. They all sat on their sleeping bags and enjoyed the bedtime treat. Watch lay curled up on his flannel blanket in the corner.

  “I can’t wait until tomorrow when we go back to where the boxcar used to be,” said Benny, licking crumbs from his fingers.

  “I wonder what we’ll find there,” said Violet. She stroked the rag doll, which she had placed beside her pillow.

  “Remember how happy we were to find the boxcar?” Jessie said. “It was about to rain, and we needed shelter.”

  “You and Jessie looked inside first to make sure it was okay,” said Violet. “Then we all ran inside, and it made such a warm, dry little house.”

  “I remember that,” said Benny, grinning. He gulped down the last of his milk.

  “I wonder what we’ll find when we dig,” said Henry.

  “I can’t wait to see!” Benny said.

  When they’d finished eating, they all went back in the house and washed their hands and faces and brushed their teeth. Then they said good night to Mrs. McGregor.

  “Sleep well,” she called after them. “Wake me if you need anything.”

  Once they were in the boxcar, Jessie slid the door almost all the way closed. She left it open a crack to let in fresh air.

  “I wonder if anything unusual will happen here tonight,” said Benny. He climbed into his sleeping bag and snuggled down deep.

  “We’ll soon find out,” said Henry. He picked up Benny’s book and read him the next chapter. “Now try to sleep.”

  “I’m too excited,” said Benny.

  “Just try,” Henry said, rolling over with his own book.

  Benny’s thoughts were racing. What would they find when they dug near the old doorstep? Would anything strange happen that night? But he was so tired he soon fell asleep.

  When the Aldens woke, a thin line of sunlight was streaming through the door crack.

  “It’s morning,” Benny said with a yawn. “And no ghosts came last night.”

  “You sound disappointed,” said Jessie, stretching.

  “I guess I am,” Benny replied.

  The children hurried to dress and roll up their sleeping bags.

  “Good morning,” said Mrs. McGregor when they came in for breakfast. “How was your night?”

  “It was fine,” said Henry.

  “No ghosts,” said Benny.

  Mrs. McGregor smiled.

  The children ate quickly because they were eager to be on their way.

  “Let’s bring a lunch with us,” Jessie suggested. “We can have a picnic there.”

  “Good idea,” the others agreed. Jessie and Benny got out bread and ham and made sandwiches. Henry filled a thermos with lemonade and found some cups. Violet added fresh peaches. They put all the food into Jessie’s backpack and grabbed the picnic blanket.

  When they said good-bye to Mrs. McGregor, she handed them something wrapped in foil.

  “What’s this?” asked Jessie.

  “You can’t let the rest of those good cookies go to waste,” said the housekeeper.

  “No, we certainly can’t,” Jessie agreed, tucking the cookies into her backpack with the rest of their lunch.

  Henry grabbed a shovel from the garden shed, and they set off on their bicycles.

  They were just heading out of the driveway when they saw Claire and her father walking across their yard.

  “Hi!” called Violet.

  Claire smiled shyly. “Hi.”

  “We’re riding over to Silver City,” said Violet. “Want to join us?”

  Claire’s smile faded. “I don’t have a bike here.”

  “That’s too bad,” said Violet.

  “I was just going over to say hello to your grandfather,” Professor Murray said.

  “He’s away on business,” said Henry.

  “Still?” said the professor. “You must miss him when he’s gone.”

  The Aldens nodded. “But we like it when he comes back!” Benny said.

  “Claire doesn’t like it when I travel either,” said Professor Murray. “She has bad dreams about ghosts.”

  Claire blushed. “Just sometimes,” she said softly.

  Professor Murray smiled. “Do you kids ever worry about ghosts?”

  “Not really,” said Benny.

  “Claire, we’ll come by when we get back, and maybe you can play then,” Violet suggested.

  “Okay,” said Claire, her smile returning. The Aldens waved good-bye and pedaled off. When they were out of hearing distance, Jessie turned to the others. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange how Professor Murray keeps talking about ghosts?” she said.

  “I noticed that, too,” said Henry. “If he is the one ‘haunting’ the boxcar, he wants us to be scared — scared enough to sell it to a museum.”

  No one knew what to say to that. So they just kept riding.

  The ride to Silver City was long, but it was a beautiful day. The children pedaled along happily, enjoying the sunshine, the blue sky, and the flowers and trees around them.

  At last they came to the woods where the boxcar had been. Tall old trees reached up into the sky. Overgrown bushes were everywhere.

  “This is the place,” said Jessie excitedly, leading the way.

  The children walked their bikes into the woods, pushing branches out of the way as they went. After a little while they came to a large open area. Rusty train tracks cut through the middle. Grass and bushes grew over the tracks.

  “Here’s where the boxcar was,” Henry said, leading the way.

  “And look, this is where the stump used to be,” said Jessie, pointing to the spot.

  “Do you remember how Benny was afraid to live in the boxcar at first?” said Henry. “He was worried the engine would come take us away”

  They all laughed at that.

  “There’s the brook where we used to wash,” Violet said, pointing. The children ran over and dipped their hands in the cold, clear water.

  Suddenly Benny remembered why they were there. “Well, if this is where the stump was,” he said, “then this is where we should dig!”

  “You’re right,” said Henry, unfastening the shovel, which he had strapped onto the back of his bike. “Let’s get started.”

  Henry began digging on one side of where the stump had been. The ground was hard, making it a tough job.

  After he had dug a fairly large hole, he stopped and looked at the others. So far, they’d found nothing. “Maybe it’s the other side,” he said.

  “I guess so,” said Jessie. “I’ll do some now.” She took the shovel and began digging.

  Benny was beginning to worry that maybe there would be no treasure after all.

  Jessie wa
s about to give up digging when the shovel hit something hard. She stopped and looked at the others. “Either I’ve hit a big rock, or we’ve just found something.”

  Digging more slowly now, she carefully uncovered a smooth square of metal.

  “Look at that!” cried Benny.

  Jessie dug around the four sides of the square to reveal a metal box. When she had cleared a lot of the dirt away, Henry bent down and grabbed hold of the box. He pulled, but it was still too deep in the ground. It didn’t budge.

  Jessie dug a little more dirt out and Henry tried again. This time the box came up.

  “At last!” Benny cried. “We’ve found the treasure!”

  CHAPTER 7

  Inside the Box

  Henry set the box down gently beside the hole.

  “Is it heavy?” asked Benny excitedly.

  “No, it’s not,” said Henry.

  “What’s inside?” Benny asked.

  “We’ll soon see.” Reaching around in front, Henry carefully unlatched the top. Then he lifted the lid.

  Inside the box there was only one object. It was a leatherbound book.

  “A book?” said Benny. “What kind of treasure is that?”

  Violet grinned. “I think books are the best kind of treasure there is!”

  Jessie carefully lifted the book from the box. It looked very old and delicate. She opened the cover and read aloud, “My Story, by Isabel Wile.”

  “It’s handwritten,” said Violet, peering over her sister’s shoulder. “It looks like a diary.”

  Jessie turned to the next page. “You’re right. Isabel Wile’s diary, I guess. I wonder who she was.”

  “There’s a date on the first page,” Violet pointed out. “Wow, this was written a long time ago!”

  “Isabel must have been the owner of the doll,” Henry said. “She wrote the diary, buried it here, and put the note in the doll’s apron. Then she hid the doll in the boxcar.”

  “And we found it!” cried Benny.

  “I wonder why she did all that,” said Jessie.

  “Maybe if we read the diary we’ll find out,” said Henry.

  “Is it okay to read someone else’s diary?” Violet asked.

  “In this case it is,” Jessie assured her. “This diary is very old and it seems that Isabel — or somebody — wanted us to find it.”

  “Okay,” said Benny. “Only … could we eat our lunch first?”

  “Sure,” Henry said. The bike ride and all the digging had made them hungry.

  The children washed their hands in the stream, just as they had when they’d lived there. Then they spread out the picnic blanket beside the space where the boxcar had been. Jessie gave everyone a napkin and Violet passed out the sandwiches. Henry poured lemonade for all of them.

  “Shall I start reading the diary?” Jessie asked, once she had eaten some of her sandwich.

  The others nodded eagerly.

  “June 2,” Jessie began. “Papa still has not found another job. We can no longer pay the rent on our apartment, so we’ve had to move out. But the good news is, Mama and Papa have found us a wonderful place to stay. It’s an old boxcar.”

  “Isabel lived in our boxcar?” said Benny, his eyes wide.

  “Actually, I think we lived in her boxcar,” said Henry. “She was there first.”

  “Go on,” Violet urged.

  “It is snug and dry inside,” Jessie read. “Mama folded up some blankets and made a cozy bed for me and Rebecca on the floor in one corner. Louis is sleeping in the other corner. Mama and Papa have a bed along the front wall.”

  “Rebecca and Louis must be her sister and brother,” Violet said.

  Jessie read, “We had our first dinner in the boxcar tonight. We sat on the ground like a picnic and ate bread and cheese and milk.”

  “Sounds like what we used to eat,” said Henry.

  Jessie went on, “And for dessert we picked blueberries.”

  “Hey! I remember those bushes,” said Benny, springing to his feet. “There they are — still full of berries.”

  “Let’s pick some!” said Jessie, setting the diary aside.

  They collected a large bunch of blueberries in a napkin and ate them with the peaches and the delicious cookies.

  “Just as sweet as I remembered them,” said Henry, popping a large handful of blueberries into his mouth.

  Jessie continued reading. “Soon Papa will find a new job, and we’ll be in a regular house again. But for now, it’s fun living here in the woods, in our little boxcar home.”

  “That’s what we thought, too,” said Benny.

  Jessie turned the page and began the next entry. “Today Rebecca got covered in mud, so Mama told me to give her a bath in the stream. I don’t think she liked it very much.”

  “Rebecca must be her little sister,” said Benny.

  “This sounds odd,” said Jessie. “It says, ‘I put Rebecca on a rock to dry.’”

  “That is strange,” said Violet.

  “Then Papa took me to the library,” Jessie read. “I got a new mystery story. I’ll read it to Rebecca tonight. Then maybe tomorrow Rebecca and I can make up our own mystery.”

  “Hey, Isabel likes mysteries, just like us!” said Benny.

  Jessie went on to the next entry. “Today I cut Rebecca’s hair. Mama was very angry with me.”

  “I’ll bet she was,” said Henry with a laugh.

  “Mama reminded me that Rebecca’s hair won’t grow back.” Jessie stopped and looked at the others.

  “That’s really weird,” said Benny.

  Jessie read ahead a little bit and then she started to laugh. “Now I get it! Listen to this — ‘Mama gave me some thick brown yarn to make Rebecca some more hair.’ Rebecca must be her doll!”

  “That’s the doll we found!” said Violet. “That’s Rebecca.”

  Jessie read several more entries from Isabel’s diary. Isabel and Rebecca had lots of fun together, making up mysteries to solve.

  Sometimes Isabel played with Louis. They helped her mother keep the boxcar clean and cook the meals. Their father was usually off looking for a new job. At night, they would read mysteries together.

  The children were all enjoying Isabel’s story, but it was getting late. At last Jessie closed the book, marking her place with a leaf. “We’d better head home.”

  “Yes,” said Henry. “Mrs. McGregor will be worried.”

  “I can’t wait to show her the diary,” said Violet.

  The Aldens packed up what was left of their lunch and put it in Jessie’s backpack, along with the diary. Then they rode home.

  When the children were just up the street from their house, Violet slowed down.

  “Tired?” Jessie asked.

  “No, look,” her sister said, motioning to the car parked in front of the Aldens’ house. It was a little purple car. “Do you think that’s Amelia?”

  Jessie nodded. “How many people drive purple cars?”

  “I wonder what she’s doing here,” Violet said.

  As the Aldens rode up alongside the car, they could see that no one was inside.

  “Hey, look!” Benny cried, pointing into Amelia’s car. “A flashlight!”

  “Maybe she’s going camping,” said Violet. “I see she has a sleeping bag, too.”

  “Or maybe she’s the one who was snooping around the boxcar at night,” Benny said.

  “Maybe … but lots of people have flashlights,” Jessie reminded him.

  Just then the Aldens saw Amelia walking across their front lawn. She looked surprised when she saw them near her car, but then she waved.

  “Hello!” Amelia called as she got closer. “I hope you don’t mind — I was just taking another look at your boxcar.”

  The Aldens looked at one another. She was back to look at it again? And she’d just walked into their backyard without asking?

  As if she’d heard what they were thinking, Amelia said, “I asked Mrs. McGregor if it was okay, and she said yes.”
>
  “Sure, that’s fine,” said Jessie.

  “Say, have you ever found anything … unusual in the boxcar?” Amelia asked.

  “Unusual?” Henry repeated. “Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know … never mind,” said Amelia with a quick smile. “I’d better get going now.” She got into her car and drove off.

  The Aldens walked their bikes up the driveway.

  “Do you think she was trying to ask about the doll?” asked Violet.

  The others shrugged their shoulders, uncertain. “How would she know about it?” Jessie said.

  They had reached the garage and were putting their bikes away and hanging up their helmets.

  “Well, there must be some reason she keeps coming back to look at our boxcar,” said Benny. “Especially if she was there in the middle of the night.”

  “I don’t know what it is,” said Jessie, “but I think there’s something Amelia is not telling us.”

  When the Aldens went inside, Mrs. McGregor was setting the table for dinner. “Amelia was just here to look at the boxcar,” she told them.

  “We saw her as she was coming out,” said Violet.

  “Look what we found!” said Jessie, taking off her backpack and pulling out the diary.

  Mrs. McGregor put down the silverware she was holding and looked at the diary in amazement. “Oh my! You really did find a treasure.”

  Jessie handed the diary to Mrs. McGregor. She took it and studied the cover carefully before opening it and turning the pages very gently.

  “Isabel Wile,” Mrs. McGregor said to herself. “I wonder who she was.”

  “The doll we found belonged to her,” Violet said.

  “She lived in the boxcar,” said Benny. “Our boxcar!”

  “Isn’t that amazing!” Mrs. McGregor said. “Did you read her diary?”

  “Part of it,” said Jessie. “Until it was time to come home for dinner.”

  “Which reminds me … ” Mrs. McGregor said, giving the diary back and hurrying into the kitchen.

  After washing their hands, the Aldens finished setting the table as Mrs. McGregor brought in a steaming hot casserole.