Leaning this way and that, Libby managed to see Jordan and his family in the front row. At Jordan’s feet lay the cloth bag with handles—the carpetbag with the money the congregation had collected or earned.
Jordan sat tall, as though eager to take on the job he had been given. With all her heart, Libby hoped he was going to succeed. But Caleb seemed strangely quiet, even discouraged. Libby wondered if he was thinking about their talk with Pa last night. When Caleb told him what Jordan had said, Pa had also been concerned.
“I was just about to warn Jordan,” he said. “But that’s when you heard Peter at the door. Through the terrible days of slavery, Jordan walked close to the Lord. I hope he doesn’t forget God now when life is easier.”
Libby hoped so too. More than once Jordan had surprised them by the way he heard God tell him what to do.
Soon Reverend Freeman stood up to speak. “You are not slaves,” he told a congregation that Libby knew held many former slaves. “You are created in the image of the almighty God. You are His children!”
Reverend Freeman finished his preaching by saying, “Today we are taking the last offering for our needy people. As they seek the Promised Land, they go with your gifts of love.”
After the offering the minister called Jordan forward. “When the leaders met yesterday, we asked the Lord to show us who should take the money to Chicago,” he explained to the rest of the congregation. “We agreed on this young man, Jordan Parker.”
Suddenly Libby felt proud of Jordan. If the church leaders felt he could succeed in such an important job, surely they knew what they were doing. But Caleb watched without changing his expression. Libby felt impatient with him. Caleb seemed to be looking for trouble.
As the church leaders went forward to pray for Jordan, Reverend Freeman motioned to Hattie and her children. “Come, come. Pray with us for this fine son and brother of yours.”
When Hattie stood in front of the congregation, her face glowed with joy. Holding little Rose in her arms, Serena stood next to her mother. She, too, wore a warm glow of pride in Jordan. Zack stood next to his brother, imitating every move that Jordan made. When Jordan clasped his hands behind his back, Zack did too. When Jordan itched his forehead, so did Zack.
As Reverend Freeman began to pray, heads bowed all over the room. His prayer was simple. “Jordan, we send you forth in our good Lord’s name. We ask for His protection. We ask for the safe delivery of the money to our needy people. Amen.”
At the end of the prayer, some of the leaders stretched out their hands to shake Jordan’s. Others clapped him on the shoulder. Jordan grinned, as though eager to be off on his journey.
Taking up the carpetbag, Reverend Freeman held it open for one of the men to place the final offering inside. In that moment the minister looked down. Reaching into the carpetbag, he picked up a bill and read the front side. Even from the back row, Libby saw that his hand trembled.
Looking anxious now, Reverend Freeman pulled out a second dollar bill, then a third, and a fourth. A ripple of concern passed through the congregation.
Libby moaned. “One guess,” she muttered to Caleb, feeling as if she’d seen it all before.
Growing more upset by the minute, Reverend Freeman walked over to a table and emptied out the money. Picking up one bill after another, he studied them. Finally he turned to where Jordan and his family still stood at the front of the congregation.
“Jordan, my young friend,” the pastor said. “Was this carpetbag ever out of your sight?”
Jordan thought about it. “Yassuh. I left it with Momma when I went down to the river yesterday. And last night one of the maids where Momma works came to our house. She said, ‘Come, all of you. The man of the house wants to talk to you.’
“We went to the house and waited in the kitchen. But the man of the house never came. Finally the maid came back and said, ‘He can’t come now. He will talk to you tomorrow.’
“So Momma said to the maid, ‘How come the man of the house told you to get us?’ And the maid said, ‘He wasn’t the one who told me. It was one of the boarders.’”
Suddenly Reverend Freeman pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. “During that time, the carpetbag was in the carriage house and no one watching it?”
As if suddenly realizing what had happened, Jordan trembled. “No one was watching it.”
“No doors locked?”
“We ain’t got no locks.”
Jordan’s shoulders shook. “Reverend Freeman?” he asked, his voice filled with fear. “The money?”
Reaching out, Reverend Freeman grabbed hold of the back of a chair. Clinging to the chair, he said, “Someone changed the real money that we saved for wildcat money. The bills in this bag are worthless.” Bowing his head, he leaned over the chair as if heartbroken.
As the wave of shock rippled through the room, a cry of anger and unbelief went up from the congregation. People dropped into their chairs.
Softly at first, someone began to weep. Then, with a growing sound, one person, then another sobbed aloud. In that moment Jordan fell on his knees and joined the weeping. But his mother stood tall, her face still, as though unable to take in what had happened.
Then, from the back of the church came an angry voice. “Jordan’s family be new here. We ain’t got no way of knowin’ them!”
From the side of the room came another voice. “How come you gave him the job, anyhow?”
From near the front a man muttered, “We can’t trust that Jordan Parker!”
As though new life had come into him, the pastor straightened, facing the congregation. “Can every one of you be trusted? Would you have thought it was safe to leave money in your house when you were right next door?”
A low muttering passed through the room, then silence fell again. His eyes filled with fire, Reverend Freeman spoke again.
“Almost every one of us has been a slave. We have known the whip, the lash upon our back. We have known what it means to be wrongly accused. There will be no accusing word spoken here. There will be no word spoken without proof. No word spoken without love.”
In the silence someone began to pray aloud. Soon another voice joined the first, then a third, and a fourth, until the whole room was filled with the sound of people praying. Then, as suddenly as they began, the voices stopped.
A tiny woman walking with a cane came first. Her humped back bowed, she reached out to Hattie with her free hand. Leaning forward, she planted a kiss on Hattie’s cheek. Then, still leaning upon her cane, she stopped in front of where Jordan knelt. With her free hand, she reached down, took his hand, and motioned for him to stand.
“Young man,” she said in a voice the entire church could hear. “You will still be used of God.”
His shoulders bowed, his face wet with weeping, Jordan stared at her. As the little woman walked back to her chair, his gaze followed her dragging steps. When she sat down again, his eyes held the light of hope.
One by one the men and women and children walked forward. Some clasped Hattie’s hand. Others reached forward to hug her. But all passed on to Jordan.
One gave a Bible verse, memorized long ago. Another stopped to pray. Men put an arm around Jordan’s shoulders.
Then at last Caleb and Libby stood before Jordan. Now that Jordan was in trouble, Caleb had a different look on his face. “Do you want Libby and me to help you find the money?” Caleb asked.
“I was proud, wasn’t I?” Jordan said when Caleb clapped him on the shoulder. “I ain’t proud no more. I need your help.”
When the service was over, Jordan faced his pastor. “If I have to leave for a while, I want you to know I ain’t running away. Me and my friends are going to find the money.”
“If it helps you, some of the bills are marked,” Reverend Freeman answered. “When I was counting the money, I spilled a bottle of ink on the table. About ten of the bills have ink blotches on them.”
Jordan’s voice was humble now. “I want to be the pers
on you think I am,” he said.
When Jordan turned to go, Reverend Freeman told him the exact amount of money that had been stolen. “You will find it, Jordan,” he said. “You will find the Lord’s treasure. You will bring it to our needy people.”
For the first time since the discovery of the theft, Jordan straightened, standing tall like royalty.
As Jordan finished talking with people, Libby, Caleb, and Peter went outside.
“Do you think the man who swindled Pa is the one who took Jordan’s money?” Libby asked Caleb.
“I wondered about it,” Caleb said. “But it seems like such a big coincidence. When Dexter took your pa’s money, he was down the river from here. How would he know enough to find Jordan here, unless—”
Libby finished the thought. “Unless he felt sure that sooner or later Pa would come to Galena?”
“Like all steamboat captains do if they travel the Upper Mississippi.”
“So if the swindler came to Galena, he just stumbled across Jordan’s family?” Libby remembered Dexter shaking his clenched fist at Pa. “I’ll get even with you!” the swindler had threatened. Then he seemed to memorize how Jordan looked.
“I’m scared, Caleb,” Libby said.
“Me too,” Caleb answered to Libby’s surprise.
As soon as Hattie came out of the church, she and her family started home. On the way there, Libby and Peter walked behind Caleb and Jordan.
Peter poked Libby to get her attention, then pointed to Jordan. “What happened?”
With all that had gone on, Libby had forgotten that Peter couldn’t hear. Taking his slate, she began to write. “Many people gave money to help slaves go on a boat to Canada.”
Each time she filled the slate, Peter read what she had written. Libby erased her words, then started writing again. “Jordan was going to take the money to them. But an evil man changed the good money for bad money.”
There Peter stopped Libby. “Magician?” he asked.
“No, no!” Libby shook her head.
Peter again pointed to the carpetbag carried by Jordan. “What is bad money?”
Libby sighed. Pa had found it difficult enough to explain to an immigrant. How could she explain to Peter? “Wildcat money,” she wrote because she didn’t know what else to say.
“Wildcat? Animals don’t use money!”
Again Libby shook her head. “Not worth anything,” she wrote. “A bad man put worthless money into the carpetbag.”
“Swindler?” Peter asked.
Ahhh! Libby felt surprised but nodded yes. How did Peter know about swindlers?
“So all the good money was lost,” he said.
Libby nodded.
“Did the church people forgive Jordan?” Peter asked.
Again Libby nodded, but her mind raced ahead. How did Peter know about forgiveness? While living with a cruel man, there must have been many times when Peter needed to forgive. But who had taught Peter how to do it?
“The church people forgave Jordan,” Libby wrote, and Peter grinned.
Libby was happy, too, but Peter said, “Now we must find the swindler.”
Libby stared at him. Taking the slate, she wrote back. “Peter, how come you’re so smart?”
Again Peter grinned. “I will show you a way to say, ‘Yes! Yes! You’re right!’” Elbows flexed next to his body, he made two fists, as though rooting for someone in a race. Raising his hands, he brought them forward, then down.
When Libby made the sign after him, Peter nodded his approval. But Libby wrote again.
“I asked, ‘How come you’re so smart?’”
Instead of answering, Peter took the slate and slipped it into his bag.
As though impatient with how long everyone was taking, Serena half walked and half ran to the boardinghouse. “I want to see if that boarder is still there,” she said.
It took only a minute to learn from the owner that the man had left early that morning.
“What was his name?” Caleb asked, but it was one that neither he nor Libby recognized.
“If the boarder took the money, how did he know about it?” Libby asked. “Can we see his room?”
The room the man had rented for one night was on the third floor and faced two directions. One window overlooked the street and the front entrance to the house. The other gave a view across the side lawn to the carriage house where Jordan’s family lived.
“Maybe he saw you come home with the carpetbag,” Caleb told Jordan, then wrote to Peter.
The ten-year-old had another idea. “Maybe the swindler saw Jordan with the carpetbag, then rented the room.”
“Either way, the swindler took a chance,” Caleb answered. “And he won.”
The room was as clean as if Serena had already dusted every inch of it. “Let’s see if the boarder left something,” she said.
Every one of them joined in the search. Caleb took down the pictures from the wall, checking the back side to be sure nothing had been hidden. Hattie picked up the rugs, then folded back the quilts and cornhusk mattress. Libby studied the floor inch by inch to be sure there was no hidden crack. Jordan opened every window, testing the movement between the frames and the wall. Serena pulled out each drawer in the dresser, searching behind and underneath.
Finally they had to admit the boarder had left nothing behind.
As they started to leave, Serena turned back. “Wait! There’s one more place to look. I’ve found things there before.”
On the far side of the room, a shelf was attached to the wall. Low and strong, it was the kind of shelf where people set their baggage if staying for a short time.
Now Serena peered at a narrow crack between the shelf and wall. Libby could just barely see a narrow edge of paper. Working carefully so the paper wouldn’t slip in farther, Serena managed to pull it out.
The paper had writing on it. Serena tried to read it, then handed it to Libby. There was no name on the paper, but an address in Alton, Illinois.
“It might be just what we need to find the swindler!” Libby exclaimed.
CHAPTER 7
Happy Birthday!
If that address will help us find the swindler, I am going with you,” Jordan said.
Then, as if remembering the disaster with the money, he changed his words. “I mean, I am going if your pa lets me work for him again.”
As Libby, Caleb, and Peter started back to the Christina, Jordan walked with them.
“If we’re going to search for the swindler in Alton, maybe I’ll have time to find out more about Elijah Lovejoy,” Caleb said. More than once he had talked about wanting to be a newspaperman. Mr. Lovejoy had been just that—a newspaper editor who lived in Alton.
Soon Caleb and Jordan walked ahead, talking so fast that Libby knew they were making up for lost time. As she followed with Peter, the boy took out his slate and handed it to her.
“I think I know the man who rented that room,” he said.
“You know him? How?” Libby wrote back. Serena had given them a description, but Libby wasn’t sure it would be enough to recognize the swindler.
“When your father was taking me to buy clothes, I saw the man walk toward the boardinghouse,” Peter said. “I’ll take you to where he lives.”
“Where he lives?” Libby asked, writing again. “Why would he rent a room if he lives in Galena?”
“I told Caleb,” Peter said, as though trying to be patient with her. “Maybe the swindler saw Jordan carry the carpetbag and wondered what it held. Maybe he rented the room to find out.”
By now Caleb and Jordan were far ahead. Libby called to them. “Stop a minute!”
Peter led them to the house where the man lived, and Caleb knocked on the door. When no one answered, Peter turned the handle, but the door was locked. Carrying his slate with him, he walked around to the back.
As Libby started to follow, she saw Peter talking to a neighbor. Soon Peter returned with words written on the slate. The man Peter thought was the boar
der had said he was going away for a while. They had no choice but to start once again for the Christina.
“When we get to Alton, we’ll try to find the swindler,” Libby said.
“You need to know what he looks like,” Peter answered. “Brown hair. Blue eyes. About five feet, ten inches tall. He wore a suit and white shirt and tie. A hat too. He dresses good.”
“Well-dressed, you mean?” Libby wrote.
“But he doesn’t know how to wear clothes.”
Strange, Libby thought. What does Peter mean by that?
Peter explained. “He has money but hasn’t learned to dress like he is rich.”
“Have you seen such a man?” Libby asked Jordan.
He hadn’t, but according to Serena, the boarder had taken meals in his room during his one-night stay. It would have been easy for him to keep out of Jordan’s sight.
“When we go to Alton, you will be the only one who can identify the thief,” Libby told Peter. “How can we thank you enough?”
“You better learn to sign what you want to say,” Peter answered, and Libby wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. Soon she found out.
“Your name,” Peter said. “L for Libby.”
Watching closely, Libby learned how to sign the letter L. Pointing to Jordan, Peter made the sign for J, then a C for Caleb.
When they reached the Christina, Jordan talked with Pa about what had happened. Captain Norstad told him, “Yes, you can work for me again.” Jordan returned home long enough to say goodbye to his family.
The next morning the Christina again steamed down the Galena River. Libby and the three boys met with Pa in his cabin. Caleb sat next to Peter, explaining on a slate.
“We have three problems now,” Captain Norstad told Jordan. “Finding your father, finding the man who stole money from your church, and finding the man who robbed me.”
Four problems, Libby thought, then guessed that Pa didn’t want to mention his need to make a double payment on a loan by August fifteenth.
The Swindler's Treasure Page 5