Mystery of the Runaway Ghost

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  The Tree House

  During dinner that night, Fran and the Aldens did most of the talking. Lottie was strangely quiet.

  “When I’m making my designs, I keep a bowl nearby filled with pressed flowers,” Fran was telling them. “And some ribbons, too, of course — satin, velvet, and a few snippets of lace.”

  Violet swallowed her last bite of chicken. “That must be the hard part,” she guessed. “Coming up with a good design, I mean.”

  “Well, the secret is to have something in mind before you begin.” Fran took a sip of water. “But you really can’t go wrong. Flowers always look nice.”

  As Henry and Jessie stood to clear the dishes, Fran said, “You’re not yourself tonight, Lottie. Is anything wrong?”

  The young woman’s face reddened. “Oh, no, nothing’s wrong.” She got up from the table. “I think I’ll skip dessert if you don’t mind.”

  Benny’s jaw dropped. “But … we’re having strawberry shortcake!”

  “Yes, and I’m sure it’s delicious,” Lottie said, smiling a little for the first time. “But I’d much rather paint right now.”

  “It must be very hard, Lottie,” Jessie said, “making that kind of switch.”

  Lottie’s whole face suddenly changed. Her smile faded and her eyes narrowed. She looked like a different person. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked in a strained voice. “Are you implying that — ”

  Jessie felt her cheeks turning pink. “I … I only meant that it must be hard switching from sketching to painting every day.”

  Lottie was clearly startled. “Oh, I didn’t realize … ” She quickly left the room without finishing her sentence.

  “What was that all about?” Henry wondered.

  “You got me!” Jessie answered. “Lottie’s awfully touchy.”

  “Well, there’s no need for anyone else to skip dessert,” Fran said, as she dished up the strawberry shortcake.

  Benny was glad to hear that.

  After feasting on Fran’s wonderful dessert, the Aldens washed and dried the dishes. Then they went outside to play croquet. Jessie was helping Henry set up the wickets when she noticed Reese watching from a distance.

  “Hi, Reese!” she called out to her.

  Reese walked over and gave the Aldens a big smile.

  “We’re learning how to play croquet,” Violet told her cheerfully.

  “You can play with us if you want,” offered Benny. “Those arches are called, um…”

  “Wickets,” Henry reminded him.

  “Right,” said Benny. “And you hit the ball through them.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Reese said as Violet handed her a mallet.

  They were soon laughing and cheering as they hit the wooden balls through the wickets. Sometimes they hit a ball too hard and had to go searching for it in the long grass by the creek. But they didn’t mind. It was a beautiful evening and the birds were singing. It wasn’t until the shadows grew longer that they finally put the game away.

  “Guess what, Reese?” Benny said, as they all sat together on the kitchen steps.

  “What, Benny?” Reese replied.

  “We went to your mother’s antique shop today,” he told her, “and I bought a cookie cutter shaped like a ghost cow.”

  “Oh, Benny!” Jessie laughed. “It’s not shaped like a ghost cow. It’s in the shape of an ordinary cow.”

  Reese was quiet for a moment. “I keep thinking about that magazine article,” she said. “My mother says Fran will get over it. But I’m not so sure.”

  Henry looked at her questioningly. “You mean because the runaway ghost will be left out?”

  Reese nodded. “I told my mother it isn’t right. The story of Buttercup means a whole lot to Fran.”

  “Your mother seemed pretty firm about it,” said Jessie.

  Violet agreed. “I don’t think she’s going to change her mind.”

  “No, she hasn’t budged,” admitted Reese. “Not yet, anyway,” she added with a mysterious little smile. “Well, I have to be going. Thanks for the game!” With that, she was on her feet and sprinting home across the grass.

  “That’s a bit strange, don’t you think?” remarked Jessie. “Why does Reese think her mother will change her mind?”

  Henry shrugged. “Maybe it’s just wishful thinking. But I hope she’s right.”

  The Aldens went back into the house. After pouring lemonade into tall glasses, they headed for the living room. Fran was sorting through the old photographs from the attic with Lottie.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” Fran looked up and smiled as the children walked into the room. “Did you enjoy croquet?”

  “We sure did,” Henry answered. “Reese even played for a while.” He sank down in a buttercup-patterned chair.

  “I was hoping you’d spend time together.” Fran seemed pleased. “Speaking of croquet,” she added, waving a photograph in the air, “I thought you might like to see that picture of Homer.” She held it out to Violet. “I was ever so pleased to find it with the other photos. It’s the only one we have.”

  Violet studied the photograph that Fran handed her. It was faded with age and badly creased in places. But it still provided a glimpse of two young men in jackets and trousers. They were standing on either side of a young woman in a hat and a long dress.

  Benny checked it out over Violet’s shoulder. “Look, they are holding mallets.”

  Fran nodded. “Selden’s the young man with the mustache and the straw hat, and that’s Anne standing beside him.” She pointed. “Homer’s on the far right. He’s the one with the flower in his buttonhole.”

  Fran waved another photograph in the air. “Here’s another one you might find interesting. I’d forgotten we even had a picture of the old tree house.”

  Benny’s face lit up. “You mean, the one Anne called Little St. Ives?”

  Nodding, Fran handed the photo to Benny. “It’s just peeking out from the branches of the tree. Can you spot it there?”

  The other Aldens gathered around. “I can see Little St. Ives!” cried Benny. “Wow, too bad it was struck by lightning.”

  Just then, Lottie stood up. “I think I’ll hit the sack early tonight,” she said. “It’s been a long day.” She stretched and yawned.

  “I believe I’ll do the same,” added Fran, removing her reading glasses. She placed the envelope of photographs on the table beside her. “That walk around Cedarburg left me tuckered out.” She said good night, then followed Lottie out of the room.

  Benny rubbed his eyes and yawned.

  Smiling over at her little brother, Jessie said, “Early to bed sounds like a good idea.”

  As they started for the door, Violet noticed that Henry hung back. His eyes were still glued to the photograph of the tree house.

  “What is it, Henry?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  Henry didn’t answer. Instead, he dashed out of the room. He returned a few moments later with Fran’s magnifying glass. “I think I see something in this photograph,” he said, examining it closely. He had noticed something the others hadn’t.

  Jessie glanced over Henry’s shoulder, “I don’t understand. It’s just a picture of a tree house.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” said Henry. “Then I noticed something carved into the tree.”

  Jessie studied the picture through the magnifying glass. “You’re right, Henry. There is something carved into the tree.”

  “What is it?” Benny wanted to know.

  “An arrow,” Jessie answered. She looked from the photograph to Henry and back again. “But what does it mean?”

  “The arrow’s pointing up,” Henry said. “And it’s — ”

  Jessie drew in her breath. “And it’s carved into the trunk of the tree!” she said, finishing Henry’s sentence.

  Violet and Benny stared at Jessie. They looked totally confused.

  “The clues weren’t leading us to that trunk in the attic at all,” Henry concluded,
a smile spreading across his face.

  Jessie agreed. “They were leading us straight to the old tree house.”

  “So is that the answer to the riddle?” Benny was getting more excited by the second. “Is the answer a tree house?”

  “I’m sure of it.” Henry nodded. “Remember what you called the box Fran found?”

  “A shadowbox,” Benny said. “Because it’s filled with shadow elephants.”

  Henry nodded. Then he began to recite, “The thing you hold/ Is the thing you seek.” He looked over at his brother and sisters. “Violet was right. The riddle was telling us to seek another shadowbox.”

  Jessie settled into a chair. “That makes sense. The tree house is shaped like a box. And it’s half hidden in the shadows of the tree.”

  “So it’s a shadowbox, too!” cried Benny. “We were holding a shadowbox, and we were supposed to look for a shadowbox.” The youngest Alden did a little dance. Figuring out clues was always fun.

  Jessie sank back against a cushion. “There’s only one problem.”

  Violet looked over at her. “What’s that?”

  “We’ll never find the third riddle.” Jessie sounded very sure.

  “Why not, Jessie?” Benny asked her.

  “Remember, Benny?” she said. “The tree house was destroyed.”

  “Ouch!” Henry winced. “You’re right, Jessie. If the third riddle was hidden somewhere inside the tree house, it’d be lost, too.”

  Benny sighed with disappointment. “That means we’ve come to a dead end.”

  “Maybe not, Benny,” Violet said, smiling a little. “Maybe not.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The Ghost Chase

  “What are you thinking, Violet?” Jessie asked.

  “I have a hunch the next clue is right here in the house.”

  “But, Violet,” Benny protested, “the arrow was pointing to the tree house. Remember?”

  “That’s true, Benny,” Violet said. “But the name of the tree house is Little St. Ives. What if that’s the clue to follow?”

  “What do you mean, Violet?” Jessie asked.

  “Come and see!” Violet led the way to Fran’s workroom. After flipping on the light, she made a beeline for the framed verses on the wall. “This one is called A Little St. Ives Rhyme,” she said, pointing.

  The others went to take a closer look. “What does it say?” Benny wanted to know. The youngest Alden was just learning to read.

  Henry read aloud over Violet’s shoulder:

  “As I was going to St. Ives

  I met a man with seven wives,

  Every wife had seven sacks,

  Every sack had seven cats,

  Every cat had seven kits,

  Kits, cats, sacks, wives,

  How many were going to St. Ives?”

  “Hey, it’s a riddle!” cried Benny, his voice rising with excitement.

  “And that’s not all,” added Violet. “There’s even a border of pressed buttercups around it.”

  “The mysterious box was covered with buttercups, too,” Benny realized.

  “I think you might be onto something, Violet.” Henry sounded just as excited as his brother.

  “Yippee!” Benny let out a cheer. “We found the third riddle!”

  “Sure looks that way,” agreed Henry.

  “Way to go, Violet!” Jessie gave her sister an affectionate nudge.

  “But … what’s the answer to this riddle?” Benny wondered. “There sure are a whole lot going to St. Ives.”

  Jessie thought for a moment. “Well … seven wives … plus seven sacks … plus seven cats … plus — ”

  “Hold on a minute, Jessie,” Henry interrupted. “It says every wife had seven sacks. That makes it seven wives and forty-nine sacks!”

  Jessie nodded. “You’re right, Henry.”

  “So how many does that make?” asked Benny.

  Henry went over to Fran’s desk. He found a pad of paper and a pencil, then sat down to do some figuring. The others gathered around and waited quietly. Henry’s lips moved slightly as he added up the numbers. After a while, he looked up.

  “One man, plus seven wives, plus forty-nine sacks, plus three-hundred-and-forty-three cats, plus two-thousand, four-hundred-and-one kits.” He looked around at his brother and sisters. “The grand total comes to two thousand, eight hundred and one.”

  “Oops,” said Benny. “I think you left somebody out, Henry.”

  Henry looked puzzled. “I did?” He checked his numbers again.

  “You forgot the man — or woman — who met them!” Benny said.

  Henry smiled at his little brother. “Good thinking, Benny,” he said. “So that makes it two thousand, eight hundred and two.”

  “That’s our next clue?” Jessie couldn’t believe it.

  “I guess we didn’t find the third riddle after all.” Violet sighed. “That one’s just silly. Looks like we’re on the wrong track again.”

  “Never mind,” Henry said as they headed up the stairs to bed. “It was a good try.”

  Benny, who was a few steps ahead, suddenly stopped and turned. “Hear that?” he whispered. His eyes were huge.

  “Hear what, Benny?” asked Henry.

  Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.

  This time they all heard it. The sound seemed to be coming from outside. It would stop, only to start again a moment later.

  “It’s Buttercup!” whispered Benny, sounding anxious.

  Henry wasn’t having any of that. “We can’t be sure that was even a cowbell, Benny,” he said as he hurried back downstairs and into the living room. The others followed close behind. They all huddled around and peered out the window into the moonlit garden.

  Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.

  “Oh, that is a cowbell!” cried Violet. “And it’s the exact same clanging I heard last night!” She quickly told the others about the old cowbell at Roback’s Antique Shop.

  “That made the same sound, too,” she said firmly.

  “Even so, Violet,” Henry said after a moment’s thought, “that doesn’t mean there’s a ghost cow out there.”

  “I asked Cora if stray cows ever wander into town,” Violet informed them. “She said she’s never heard of it.”

  Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.

  “Well, somebody’s ringing that bell,” Jessie pointed out.

  “There’s only one way to find out who.” Henry squared his shoulders and headed out of the room. The other Aldens followed at his heels.

  The four children opened and closed the front door behind them quietly. Henry and Jessie were in the lead as they started across the grass; Violet and Benny followed close behind. All of a sudden, Henry stopped so quickly that Jessie almost ran right into him.

  Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.

  “Uh-oh,” said Benny, backing up. His heart was pounding.

  Henry pointed. Was that a shadow moving across the yard? “Who’s there?” he called out.

  The shadowy figure disappeared into the inky darkness of the bushes. The Aldens ran into the bushes, too, but it was too late. It was almost as if the shadowy figure had vanished into thin air.

  “I sure wish we had a flashlight,” Henry said, as he looked around.

  “It’s too late now, Henry,” Violet told him breathlessly.

  As they started back to the house, Benny moved closer to Jessie. She put a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Whoever was ringing that bell is long gone,” she assured him.

  “Do you think anybody else heard the bell?” Benny wondered, as they had a late-night meeting in the room that Violet and Jessie were sharing.

  “Maybe, Benny,” said Jessie, “but I doubt it. Fran said she was a sound sleeper.”

  Henry nodded. “And Lottie seemed very tired.”

  “I just can’t understand somebody pulling a prank like that.” Violet couldn’t stop shaking her head. “Who would do such a thing?”

  Henry had a thought. “What abo
ut Nelson?” When he saw the look of surprise on everyone’s face, he added, “Maybe he thinks it’s the only way to get Fran to sell her house.”

  “By convincing her that Shadowbox really is haunted?” Jessie shot her older brother a disbelieving glance. “By a cow?”

  “It’s possible,” said Henry.

  “I can’t imagine Nelson doing anything so awful to his mother,” argued Violet.

  Jessie had an opinion about this. “Maybe he’s trying to scare us away.”

  “That’s an interesting theory, Jessie,” said Henry. “But the only reason he would try to scare us is to keep us from solving the mystery.”

  “Well, he wasn’t very happy about us helping with it,” Jessie pointed out. “Maybe he wants to solve the mystery himself.”

  That made sense to Henry. “Nelson does think money is important. At least, that’s what Fran said. Maybe he’s hoping to keep the treasure for himself.”

  “You know,” said Violet, “Nelson isn’t the only suspect.”

  The others turned to her, puzzled.

  “I think we should include Cora Roback on our list.”

  Benny looked confused. “But, Violet, Cora thinks the whole idea of a ghost cow is silly.”

  “Maybe she’s trying to prove that to Fran,” Violet suggested. She was sitting on the window seat with her arms around her knees.

  The others had to admit that was possible. Didn’t Cora think all the other sightings had been staged? Maybe she was trying to convince Fran the ghost was a fake by showing her how easy it would be to fool people.

  “And she owns an antique store,” added Jessie. “So it would be easy for her to get hold of an old cowbell.”

  “It’d be easy for anyone to get hold of a cowbell,” Henry pointed out. “Cedarburg is overflowing with antique stores.”

  “I still think Lottie is behind everything,” insisted Benny. “I bet she’s trying to scare us away so she can beat us to the treasure.”

  “You might be right, Benny,” Jessie said. “She does need money for school in the fall.”

  “And she never lets anyone see what she’s painting,” added Benny. “What’s that all about?”

  “Maybe she’s shy about her work,” offered Violet.

  Jessie frowned. She thought there was more to it than that, but she didn’t say anything.