by Charles Tang
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Tom said quietly. “Even if he wanted to draw a copy of it, he couldn’t do it in the dark. Is it possible he just put it down and forgot about it?”
“Maybe he—” Henry began, but then someone came walking into the room.
It was an elderly woman in slippers and a robe. Her hair was the off-white color of old piano keys, and it ran down her back in a long ponytail. She held the robe tightly around her body, as if she were chilly. “Tom? What happened?”
“Oh, hello, Mrs. Carter. How are you?” Tom asked.
“I’m fine, but you don’t look so good. I heard all the commotion,” Mrs. Carter said.
“We had a break-in,” Tom told her. “Mrs. Carter, these are some friends of mine. This is James Alden, and these are his grandchildren, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and the little fellow is Benny. Kids, this is Mary Carter. She’s my next-door neighbor.”
Mrs. Carter and the Aldens exchanged hellos. Then the woman said, “A break-in? Was anything taken?”
“It doesn’t appear so.”
“What were those flashes?”
Everyone looked confused.
“Flashes?” Jessie asked.
Mrs. Carter pointed to the windows. “There were flashes in here. I saw them from my sitting room while I was watching TV Quick bursts of light. About a dozen.”
Tom said, “I’m afraid I don’t—”
“Pictures!” Violet blurted out. “Someone was taking pictures! The light bursts were caused by the flash!”
Tom sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably exactly what it was. There are so many reporters and other treasure hunters around here now, it could’ve been anybody. John Finney’s treasure is probably so valuable, some people will risk getting arrested for breaking into someone’s house in order to get their hands on it.”
Then Grandfather added, “So, as you said, it could’ve been anybody.”
“Uh-huh, that’s right. But no matter who it was,” Tom replied, “they’ve got pictures of the last piece of the map now. So if you kids really want to find that treasure, I suggest you do it as soon as possible.”
CHAPTER 6
Danger, Danger, Everywhere!
The next morning the children and their grandfather went to a little shopping village that they had spotted when they first got into town. Originally the children had planned to go alone, but now Grandfather insisted on going with them. Soon after they arrived, however, they split up because the children wanted to get their grandfather a souvenir.
There were dozens of tiny stores in the village, each with its own specialty. One sold nothing but kites, another sold saltwater taffy, and another sold beach items such as bathing suits, suntan oil, and folding chairs. The first store they went into was called Treasures in the Sand.
Jessie saw the sign. “Haven’t we had enough trouble with stuff we’ve found in the sand?” she said with a groan. The others laughed.
Once inside, each Alden went to a different part of the store. Violet was drawn to a rack of matted photos, sketches, and paintings. The ones that she liked she set aside for the others to see.
She had just found a beautiful watercolor of an ocean sunset when she noticed the two men outside. They were standing on the sidewalk, with people moving all around them. One had a little notebook, and a copy of yesterday’s newspaper was sticking out of his back pocket. He also had a pencil tucked behind one ear. The second man had a camera hanging around his neck. Both were watching Benny through the window with great interest. It didn’t take Violet long to figure out who they were—a reporter/photographer team.
Benny was looking for a price sticker on a seagull sculpture when the reporter pointed at him. Then the man said something to the photographer, who brought his camera up to take a shot.
“Benny!” Violet said sharply.
Startled, Benny almost dropped the sculpture.
“Yes?”
“Come here for a second. You’ve got to see this!” Violet said.
Benny walked away just in time. Both the photographer and the reporter looked disappointed. Then they moved closer to the window, determined to find out where Benny had gone.
“What?” Benny asked. “What do you want to show me?”
Violet didn’t have an answer ready. “Huh? Oh . . . this, isn’t this nice?” she asked clumsily, showing him the sunset painting.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”
“There’s an even nicer one over there,” Violet said after the two men found Benny again. She took him by the arm and quickly led him to the other side of the store. Then she looked back briefly and saw the men hurrying around to the other window. They had figured out what she was up to.
She went to Henry and Jessie, who were standing together, talking quietly.
“I think we’ve got a problem,” said Violet.
“What? What’s wrong?” asked Jessie.
Violet said, “I’m not going to turn around, but there are two men outside. One has a notebook and the other has a camera. They’re trying to get a picture of Benny.”
Trying to appear as casual as possible, Henry and Jessie glanced over Violet’s shoulder and saw the two men.
“Reporters,” Jessie said with a sigh.
“I’m sure,” Violet said.
“Wh-what are we going to do?” Benny asked.
“I’ve got an idea,” Jessie said. “Stay here. I’ll be right back. Benny, come and stand behind Henry and Violet so those two men can’t get any pictures of you.”
Benny eased out of sight, and Jessie went over to the sales counter, where an older woman was reading a magazine with her glasses perched at the end of her nose.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Jessie said.
The woman looked down at the pretty young girl and pulled off the glasses. They rested against her chest on a beaded chain. “Yes? Can I help you, young lady?”
“Um, well, would you happen to have a back door?” asked Jessie.
“A back door? Yes, through the stockroom, but it’s not for customer use,” the woman answered.
Jessie looked worried. “Well, could we please use it anyway, my sister and brothers and I?”
“May I ask why?”
Jessie hesitated, unsure of how to answer.
Then she sighed. “Because there are two men outside who . . . we’d rather not see.”
The woman eyed Jessie suspiciously. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, no, ma’am, but . . .” Jessie started to say.
The woman turned toward the window. The reporter and photographer didn’t notice. They were too busy waiting for Benny to make another appearance.
“Why does that man have a camera?” the woman demanded.
“I think he’s a photographer for a newspaper,” Jessie said. “Please, we really need to—”
Suddenly a smile spread across the woman’s face. “Are you the children who found that bottle, the one with the map in it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jessie said.
“Did you find the pirate’s treasure?” the woman asked.
“Miss,” Jessie said firmly, “we really need to get out of here. Can we use the back door, please?”
The woman’s smile disappeared. “Well, okay, I guess in this case it’ll be all right.”
“Thank you,” Jessie replied.
The woman led the Aldens to a small door located in a quiet corner at the back of the store.
“Thank you very much, ma’am,” Henry told the lady as he and the others went out. The bright afternoon sun came flooding in around them.
“If you find that treasure, don’t forget about me,” she said. The children only smiled.
Now they were standing in the alleyway between Treasures in the Sand and the surf shop next door. At one end they could see people on the busy sidewalk. The other led to a large parking lot.
“It’s not going to take those two long to figure out what happened,” Henry said.
“I think we should go ba
ck to the parking lot,” Violet offered.
“Good idea,” Henry agreed.
It seemed for a moment that they would get away cleanly. But no sooner had they reached the end of the alley than someone at the other end shouted, “There they are!”
All the children turned at the same time. The reporter and photographer were standing there. Everyone remained still for just a second, then the two men started running.
“Let’s go!” Henry cried, and the Aldens took off.
The children reached the other end of the lot at the same time the two men exited the alleyway.
“We need to go back!” Jessie said breathlessly.
“Back? You mean the way we came?” Henry asked, still running.
“No, back to the sidewalk, where all the people are!” Jessie told him. “We’ll lose them in the crowd.”
As if they had rehearsed it a hundred times, all four children turned right at exactly the same moment. They ran up a gently sloping driveway that led to the main road, then made a sharp left turn when they got to the sidewalk.
As Jessie had predicted, there were people everywhere. And since the Aldens were smaller than most of them, they had little trouble blending into the crowd and becoming invisible to the newspapermen.
“Now what do we do?” Violet asked. “They’ll keep looking until they find us!”
“Do you see Grandfather anywhere?” Jessie asked.
Henry took a long and careful look around. “No, nowhere.”
“Let’s go into one of the stores!” Benny suggested.
Jessie ran a hand through her little brother’s hair. “That’s our Benny, always thinking.”
“We can hide in that saltwater taffy place!” he added.
“Yeah, that’s our Benny,” Henry said. “Always thinking . . . about food!”
The children laughed. “It’s a good idea, Benny,” Jessie said, “but we really should hide in a store that no one would expect us to go in.”
“Well, we’d better hurry,” Violet pointed out. “Those two men should be coming up that driveway any moment!”
The children looked around for just the right shop. Which one looked the least interesting to a youngster?
“There!” Jessie said, pointing. “The antique place!”
The others turned and saw the sign YESTERYEAR ANTIQUES.
“Hey!” Violet protested. “I like antiques!”
Jessie grabbed her sister’s hand and took off. Henry and Benny followed close behind. “I know. I do, too. But who would think to look for four children there?” Jessie said.
Henry looked back to see if the two men had made it to the street yet. They appeared just as the children reached the front door of the shop. Fortunately the men didn’t notice.
A little silver bell jingled as the children went in. “Let’s get to the back, where they won’t be able to see us if they walk by,” Henry said.
The back of the store was dimly lit and smelled of must and mildew—as if the whole building were as much of an antique as the things that were in it. The Aldens found themselves surrounded by hundreds of fascinating items from years past: dishes, furniture, paintings, and even some old toys. It didn’t take them long to forget about the two men who had been chasing them. There was so much to see!
For the first time in the last fifteen minutes, they felt as though they could relax. There was nothing to fear here, in the quiet back room of this peaceful little store.
Or was there?
“Well, hello there,” a deep and familiar voice said. The children froze. Then they turned and saw someone standing in the open doorway.
Winston Walker.
“Oh, no,” Jessie said softly.
Walker looked positively delighted. He clapped his hands once, then rubbed them together. “What a pleasant surprise! I didn’t know you children were lovers of fine antiques!”
“We’re not,” Henry told him. “We’re just looking for a present. For our grandfather.”
Walker’s face lit up with joy. “A present? How very thoughtful of all of you! What do you have in mind?”
“We haven’t decided yet,” Jessie said. She didn’t like the way Walker was talking to them. The words were nice, but the way he said them made it sound like he didn’t mean them.
“Well, there are lots of nice things in here. I come here all the time. It’s one of my favorite stores down on the shore. Of course, most of the things in here are very expensive. Possibly more expensive than you children could afford.”
None of the Aldens liked the sound of this. How did he know what they could and couldn’t afford?
“However, if you kids had a little more money in your pockets, then I’m sure you could have anything in here that you wanted.”
“Maybe,” Henry said with a frown. Now he wasn’t sure what was worse—being outside with those two men or being in here with the snobby Winston Walker.
Walker stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Now, let’s see, how could you kids get some more money? Hmmm.” He snapped his fingers and looked brightly at Benny. “I know! You, young man, could sell me that piece of the map that you found! And this time, I’ll double my first offer to two thousand dollars. Now, that’s a lot of money for a little fellow like you to have. I never had two thousand dollars when I was your age—whatever that age might be. So, do we have a deal, young man?” Walker said, taking his wallet out of his back pocket. “It just so happens that I have the cash on me right now.”
“Even if he said yes, he doesn’t have the piece of the map with him,” Jessie said.
This didn’t seem to bother Winston Walker at all. “That’s quite all right, quite all right. I’ll come by the house in which you’re staying and pick it up later. I trust you.”
“How do you know where we’re staying?” Violet asked suspiciously. The others were wondering the same thing.
“Oh, I make it my business to know such things. Yes indeed.” Walker carefully counted out twenty hundred-dollar bills, then held them out to Benny. “So, my young friend, do we have a deal or don’t we?”
“I really shouldn’t without my grand—” Benny began to say.
Mr. Walker’s charm slipped away for a second. “Him again!” he barked. The children froze.
Then Walker’s smile returned. “I mean . . . him? Well, maybe I could throw in a little extra just to be nice.”
“Grandfather’s not interested in your money!” Jessie said.
“Oh, is that right? Well, good for him. I admire that.” He looked back at the youngest Alden. “So what do you say, Billy?”
“It’s Benny,” Benny corrected him.
“Huh? Oh, yes, of course. So how about it, Benny? Would you sell me that piece of the map?” Winston Walker asked.
“I’m sorry,” Jessie said, taking Benny by the hand and leading him back toward the front of the store, “but we have to be going now. We’ve got to find our grandfather.”
“But I—I . . .” The Aldens didn’t hear the rest of Winston Walker’s sentence. Newspaper reporters or not, they would rather be running around in the crowd than in a little antique store with that rude man.
Fortunately, neither the reporter nor the photographer were anywhere in sight. The children found their grandfather about fifteen minutes later, looking for something to read in a paperback bookstore.
CHAPTER 7
The Helpful Mr. Ford
After hearing of his grandchildren’s latest adventure, James Alden decided they would eat dinner that night in the kitchen rather than on the front porch, where they might be seen.
As they all quietly ate their meals, Tom read the latest article about John Finney’s treasure in a paper called the Atlantic Informer. The picture of Benny that Meredith Baker had taken on the beach was still the only one the newspapers had, so they kept running it over and over again.
“Says here John Finney’s treasure is probably worth more than ten million dollars,” he announced. He stroked his chin and added, “I
wonder who made up that number?”
Violet, who was looking down at another paper while cutting her steak, said, “This one says it’s worth only four million.”
“Mine says six,” Benny chimed in through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
“Mine says six, too,” Jessie added. Her newspaper was the same one that ran the first story and picture a few days before.
Tom said, “Maybe it is six.”
Henry shook his head. “I don’t know. This one here says twelve.”
Tom whistled. “Wow, twelve million dollars. That’s quite a high price to put on a treasure no one’s even seen in nearly two hundred years.”
All the wild stories surrounding the map and the treasure had become so silly that neither Tom nor the Aldens could take them seriously anymore.
“Hey, Benny, according to this story, you’re eleven,” Violet said, giggling. “I didn’t know you were older than me!”
Grandfather said in a grumpy voice, “And the Atlantic Informer thinks you’re from California.”
“The next one will say I’m from Mars!” Benny told them, and everyone, including Grandfather, broke out into laughter.
When things settled down, Grandfather said, “We really will have to do something soon, before the situation gets any worse.”
“Like what?” Henry asked.
“Like either you try to find the treasure or you let Winston Walker have the last piece of the map,” suggested Grandfather.
“I . . . I don’t like that second idea,” Benny said.
“I don’t, either,” said Jessie. Violet and Henry nodded in agreement.
“Then you’ve got to find the treasure without that missing piece,” said Grandfather. “And that’s not going to be very e—”
The front doorbell rang. Tom got up to answer it. He knew it couldn’t be one of the guests because they all had keys.
The man Tom found on his front porch was so tall and muscular that he almost looked like a giant. A tiny blue knapsack was slung over his shoulder.
“Can I help you?” Tom asked.
“Is this the house where the boy who found the old bottle is staying?” the man asked.
“Can I ask what your interest in the boy is?” Tom wanted to know.