“I think it’s a trap door, but something’s on top of it,” said Sam. “Let’s try it another way.” He moved them back into position. This time they pushed using their legs and tried to stand up in the small passage, the boards against their shoulders. The door eased up a few inches again until they heard something move above them. There was a loud crash. All at once the boards came free and the door flung open.
“All right!” they all cheered.
FIFTEEN
The Stable
Derek climbed up through the trapdoor, reaching down to help Sam and Caitlin. They peered around the dimly lit room. It was the size of a large kitchen, but it was hard to see. There were large wooden dividers separating the room along one wall. A tall wooden barrel lay turned over on its side next to the opening they’d crawled through. It must have been sitting on top of the trapdoor before they knocked it over.
“What is this place?” asked Sam. He walked around the room slowly, his hand out in front of him so he didn’t crash into anything.
“I think it’s the stable behind the Wythe House,” said Derek. “Remember, we walked past it this morning after the tour. The gardens are over there.” He pointed out the door.
Sam crept over to the open door and surveyed the courtyard. It was mostly dark now, making it tough to see. The Wythe House loomed in a large dark shadow to their left. Its twin brick chimneys stuck out high above the roofline on both sides like the horns on a bull. The gardens stretched in front of them, and another outbuilding was to their right. Next to that was an oversized white birdhouse on poles. It had dozens of small holes in the side that were like tiny caverns on the side of a cliff-face. Sam thought he remembered the tour guide saying it was a pigeon house.
“I don’t see anyone,” Sam whispered back to the others.
“Okay, then let’s get out of here!” Derek headed for the doorway.
“Wait!” hissed Sam. “We don’t know where Jerry is. He could be right out there!”
Caitlin crouched next to Sam in the doorway as they peered out into the yard again. A shadow shifted behind the gardens.
Sam held his hand up. “Look, over there!”
In the far corner of the garden, a faint light flickered behind the outline of a figure moving back and forth.
Sam listened carefully. He heard a shovel hitting dirt.
“It’s him,” whispered Sam. “It has to be.”
“He’s digging up the Declaration,” said Caitlin. “We can’t let him get away with that. It’s such an important piece of history. Who knows what he’ll do with it?”
Sam gulped and turned back into the stables. His heart was beating fast. He looked for Derek, but he was gone.
“Derek!” Why did his brother always have to go running off?
“I’m up here,” came a voice above them.
They looked up and saw Derek’s head sticking out of the hayloft. There was a wooden ladder near the wall that led up to the loft in the stable.
“What are you doing?” scolded Sam.
“Looking around. Come on up here, I’ve got a plan.”
Sam had that same bad feeling again that often accompanied Derek’s plans. They scrambled up the ladder, crouching next to Derek on the wooden boards. He was perched by a small door that looked like it was once used to load hay into the loft from the outside. At the top of the door was a pulley mounted to a beam. A thick rope hung down to the ground.
Derek filled them in on his plan. “Okay, Jerry’s over there in the corner of the garden. Caitlin, do you think you can run fast?”
“Sure, I think so.”
“Great,” said Derek. “You’ll be the diversion to get Jerry’s attention. Once he spots you, run around to the front of the Wythe House. See if you can find a security guard or someone in town and bring help fast.
“While you’re running, Sam and I will lure Jerry into the stable and try to lock him in one of the stalls. That should hold him until you get back with help.”
It wasn’t exactly a foolproof plan, thought Sam, but it was better than nothing.
They snuck around the corner of the stable in the darkness, hugging the border of the gardens. They kept low behind the plantings and bushes to stay out of Jerry’s sight. As they drew closer, they could see him digging in one of the flowerbeds a few yards off the path. Several mounds of dirt were scattered around him, as though he’d tried a few different spots without success.
They crept up behind the giant birdhouse and sat silently for a few moments, watching him dig. He seemed to be getting agitated and was muttering to himself. The evening was still except for the rhythmic sound of his shovel smacking into the dirt.
All of a sudden, they heard the shovel hit something wooden. Caitlin gasped and grabbed onto Sam’s arm. “We have to do something!”
They watched Jerry reach into the hole and pull out what seemed to be a wooden crate. It wasn’t a huge box, but about the size of a large picture frame. Sam could almost make out Jerry’s greedy grin as he hauled the crate up.
Derek leaned in close to them and whispered. “Now’s our chance.”
Caitlin inched her leg back to prepare for her sprint to the house. Instead, she kicked one of the giant birdhouse poles. As she did, dozens of birds came to life, fluttering out of the house with a great swoosh. Caitlin let out a scream and covered her head with her arms as they flew past.
The commotion drew Jerry’s attention. He stood up and saw Caitlin next to the birdhouse. “Hey! How did you get out of there?” he bellowed. “Get over here!” He dropped the crate and started running toward them.
This wasn’t how the plan was supposed to go. Caitlin was meant to be up by the house when she distracted him so that she could get away easily. Jerry was too close!
“Run, Caitlin!” shouted Sam, springing up from his hiding place.
As Caitlin sprinted up the path toward the house, Sam ran toward the stable with Jerry hot on his trail. Derek hadn’t moved from the shadows yet, so when Jerry ran past, Derek stuck out his leg. The big man went sprawling through the air. He flew smack into the birdhouse, which came toppling down on him with a crash. Derek leaped up and followed Sam to the stable as Jerry lay stunned beneath the birdhouse.
Sam looked across the garden and saw Caitlin round the corner of the house toward the street. He was relieved that she was in the clear and on the way to get help. He was determined to beat Jerry once and for all. They’d already outsmarted him by finding the letter, and now they were doing it again.
Sam and Derek reached the stable just as Jerry was rising to his feet. He was like a Frankenstein monster that just wouldn’t stay down. Sam hustled through the stable door and up the ladder into the hayloft. There was no time to lock Jerry in a stall now; they’d just have to outrun him.
Derek paused at the doorway. “Hey Jerry,” he called, “I still have your phone number!” Then he scrambled up the ladder behind Sam.
Jerry just growled as he lumbered after them. He ran into the stable, scanning the dark room.
“Up here, Jerry!” shouted Sam from the hayloft.
As Jerry’s heavy footsteps clanged up the ladder, Sam and Derek ran to the hayloft door.
Derek grabbed the rope that was on the pulley and jumped down, riding it like a zip line. “Come on, Sam!” he called from below.
When Sam saw Jerry reach the top of the ladder, he turned to grab the rope, but his foot caught on a loose board and he fell down.
“Aaaahh!” Sam shrieked, as Jerry moved toward him.
Sam scrambled to his feet and reached out for the rope. He looked down at the ground and gulped. He didn’t like heights, but he didn’t like Jerry even more. He grabbed onto the rope, closed his eyes and jumped, bracing for the landing. He didn’t fall downward, though, he was hung up on something. He opened his eyes and saw that Jerry had grabbed the corner of his jacket.
“Gotcha, kid!” Jerry laughed, tugging on Sam’s jacket to reel him back into the hayloft.
“
Sam, come on!” screamed Derek again. He pulled the rope from the bottom to help free Sam from Jerry’s grasp.
Sam strained with all of his might against Jerry’s grip, trying to wriggle out of his jacket.
“You’re not getting loose this time!” grunted Jerry, moving closer. He let go of the side of the door with his other hand and reached out to pull on Sam’s arm.
As he did, Sam lifted his leg and delivered a solid kick to the big man’s knee, the same one he’d hit with the rock in the church. Thrown off balance by the unexpected kick, Jerry loosened his grip on Sam’s jacket. Sam pulled loose and slid down the side of the barn on the rope, landing next to Derek.
In the hayloft, Jerry was left holding nothing but air. His momentum carried him out the door. He bashed his head on the beam that held the rope pulley and fell to the ground. Sam and Derek leaped out of the way as Jerry landed near them on a pile of hay bales.
Sam picked himself up off the ground and looked at Jerry. He wasn’t moving. Sam wondered if the hay had broken his fall or if he had broken his neck.
“Is he dead?”
Derek put his hand on Jerry’s chest. “No, I feel him breathing. He must have knocked himself out on that beam.”
“What should we do? He might wake up soon, and he’s going to be angrier than ever!” said Sam.
“Wait here, I have an idea!” Derek ran into the stable and came out pushing an old wooden cart. “Here, we can roll him into this.” He pulled the cart up next to Jerry. “Help me move him.”
With Sam on one side of Jerry’s body and Derek on the other, they heaved him off the hay bales. Gravity helped him topple into the cart.
“Ouch!” grimaced Sam, as Jerry’s head bounced into the cart. “That’s gonna leave a mark.
“Okay, so what do we do with him now?”
“Help me push! We’ll take him around to the front of the house,” answered Derek.
They each picked up a handle and turned the wagon toward the path. It wasn’t easy since Jerry was so heavy, but the wheels helped carry the load. Soon they pulled it around the house and out to the road.
Sam peered nervously over the man’s body to see if his eyes were open. He imagined Jerry leaping out of the cart and grabbing him again.
“Let’s bring him over here.” Derek pointed toward the street corner.
Sam looked across the dark street in the moonlight and saw what Derek was pointing to. For the first time in a while, he smiled. “Oh yeah!” he said under his breath.
The boys wheeled the cart up to the corner next to the old wooden stocks they’d passed earlier in the day. The heavy beams worked on a hinge, so Derek ran over and opened the top piece.
They rolled Jerry onto his back and then heaved the cart up. Jerry spilled forward and hung over the wooden supports. They pulled his big arms over the bottom beam and his head fell into place in the center notch.
Derek pulled the top piece back down and fastened the latch. “Got him!”
“Are you sure he can’t get loose?” worried Sam. “Those stocks are pretty old. Maybe he can break out.”
“No way.” Derek slapped the sturdy wood beam with his hand. “This thing is solid.
“Now, for the wake-up call!” Derek walked over to the horse trough next to the fence, pulling out a bucket of water. He carried it over to the stocks and dumped it on Jerry’s head. “Wakey wakey, Jerry!”
Jerry’s head moved with a jerk, and he began coughing under the water. He let out a moan and opened his eyes. He tried to get up, but quickly realized he was locked in tight.
“What the…” he shouted and started shaking the beams with all his might. The stocks jiggled, but held firm.
“You’re not going anywhere, Jerry!” taunted Derek.
Jerry glared up at them with his evil eyes and grunted. Then he put his head down in defeat and moaned.
Derek reached over and gave Sam a high five in the cool night air. “We did it!” he exclaimed.
Sam smiled. He finally had no worries of Jerry coming for him. He looked at the big man bent over in the wooden restraints.
“I’ll bet liberty is sounding pretty good right now, huh, Jerry?” laughed Sam.
SIXTEEN
The Crate
“Sam! Derek!” a voice called from up the street. The boys looked up and saw a group of flashlights bouncing toward them from across the darkness. Night had fully set in, so the boys couldn’t make out who it was.
One light pulled ahead of the others, and soon Caitlin was standing next to them. She looked in amazement at Jerry trapped in the stocks. The crowd behind her turned out to be Mom, Dad, and another couple who Sam figured must be Caitlin’s parents. Next to them were two men in uniform whom he didn’t recognize.
“Are you hurt?” asked Mom, rushing over and holding their faces up to the light for inspection. She sighed in relief to see them standing there safely.
“Boys, what have you gotten into this time?” asked Dad. In the darkness, Sam couldn’t tell if he was really mad or just concerned. “Aunt Karen told us that you might be over by the Wythe House. We ran into Caitlin on our way.”
“Will someone please get me out of here?” shouted Jerry from the stocks. “These crazy kids attacked me and locked me in here while I was unconscious! This is outrageous. I’ll be pressing charges!”
The two men in uniform stepped forward, shining their flashlights on the stocks. One man had a patch on his jacket that said Colonial Williamsburg Security. The other’s man’s patch said Town of Williamsburg Police.
“Mr. Milburn, is that you?” the security guard asked.
“Yes, it’s me!” Jerry bellowed, “Now get me out of here!”
The police officer nodded. They unlatched the bolt and raised the top wooden bar that was holding Jerry down.
“No, don’t let him out of there!” shouted Sam. “He’s gonna come after us again!”
“Take it easy, boys,” the police officer responded. “No one is going anywhere.”
The security guard pulled Jerry from the stocks, and he wobbled onto the sidewalk.
Sam’s confidence started to waver. He hadn’t considered that they may have done something illegal by trapping Jerry in there. What if no one believed them? Jerry was a trusted local actor in Williamsburg and Richmond. Maybe they would believe him instead!
The police officer turned to Sam and Derek. “The young lady filled us in on the basics of what happened.” He motioned to Caitlin. “But why don’t you explain the rest of it.”
Sam felt better. Thank goodness for Caitlin.
Derek told everyone how Jerry had chased them through the stable and knocked himself out on the wooden beam. He explained that they had put him in the stocks because it was the only way they could keep Jerry from escaping or killing them.
“That’s all preposterous!” Jerry barked, rising to his feet. “Why would I try to hurt these kids? I’m a classically trained actor. My Patrick Henry portrayal earned me seven consecutive Virginia Golden Musket Awards!”
“Oh yeah? Well, we can prove it!” said Sam, gathering his courage. He’d had enough of Jerry. It made him mad to hear him claim to be innocent. He nodded to Derek.
“Right!” Derek continued, “Follow us!”
The boys led the way back around the building and through the gardens. The security guard walked with them while the police officer kept a hand on Jerry. They gathered around the back corner of the garden, shining the flashlight beams on all the piles of dirt where Jerry had been digging.
Sam looked around and found the crate lying next to a hole where Jerry had dropped it. He carried it over to the security guard.
“Here’s the evidence. He was digging up this crate. We think it contains an early version of the Declaration of Independence. Thomas Jefferson gave it to George Wythe back in 1776.”
Mom gasped as Sam described the contents of the crate. Everyone looked at each other, shocked by his announcement. Caitlin must not have told them exactly what
Jerry had dug up.
Sam felt proud. He looked up to see Jerry’s face.
“Hey, where’d he go?” Sam shouted. Jerry wasn’t standing with the crowd. The police officer had leaned in to look at the crate and must have let go of Jerry’s arm.
Everyone turned and shined their flashlights across the gardens.
“There he is!” shouted Caitlin, pointing behind the stable. The outline of a man could be seen shuffling along the wall.
“Freeze, Millburn!” yelled the officer, raising his gun.
Jerry skulked back into the light.
“You just earned yourself a night in lockup. You’re under arrest.” He marched over and slapped handcuffs on Jerry.
Modern-day stocks, thought Sam. Exactly where he belongs.
“All right!” shouted Derek.
Caitlin turned back to the crate. “We need to get this opened so we can see what’s inside!”
“Not out here,” answered the security guard. “Let’s bring it over to the administration office. There’s a table in the back room where we can work.”
The guard led the way back along Duke of Gloucester Street to a slightly more modern looking brick building. The police officer brought Jerry along, holding his cuffed arm to prevent another escape.
As they entered the back room, another man was waiting at the table.
“I also took the liberty of calling the curator from the Virginia Museum to have a historical expert on hand.”
Sam and Derek looked at each other and smiled. “Professor Evanshade!” they called in unison.
The security guard looked surprised. “You know each other?”
“Oh my golly!” the professor exclaimed. He said that when he got excited. “I should have guessed that you boys were in on this adventure!”
The Virginia Mysteries Collection: Books 1-3 Page 15