Journey on a Runaway Train

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  Mrs. McGregor opened the front door just then. “I thought I heard voices. What are you children doing out here on the porch?”

  Jessie explained about the picnic and the man and the flyer as they went inside. “Did you let the man in?” Mrs. McGregor asked. “The floor is all wet.”

  Grandfather came out of the kitchen carrying a cup of coffee. “I’ve been looking for you, Mrs. McGregor. I let the fellow inside. He said he had an appointment with you to talk about cleaning the gutters.”

  “I didn’t have an appointment with anyone!” Mrs. McGregor frowned. “Why would he say that?”

  “The flyer doesn’t have anything on it about gutters.” Jessie handed it to Grandfather.

  “Look!” Violet pointed at the floor. Wet footprints led down the hallway. They faded away about halfway down.

  “Do you think he was trying to steal something?” Benny cried.

  “Should we call the police?” Mrs. McGregor asked.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Grandfather said. “I don’t think anyone from Reddimus would steal something from us.”

  “Do you know about that business, Grandfather?” Henry asked.

  “I’ve heard of them,” Grandfather said. “They have a good reputation.”

  “Why don’t we see if anything is missing?” Henry said.

  Jessie glanced around the hallway. “Nothing looks to be missing here. Why don’t we check the other rooms?” The children split up, each taking a room on the first floor.

  “I need another cup of coffee,” Grandfather said. “Mrs. McGregor, you look like you need one too. We’ll let the children search, but I don’t think they are going to find anything missing.”

  They had only been searching for a few seconds when they heard Benny yell, “The trunk!” The children raced into the study. Benny stood there pointing at the trunk.

  Jessie was puzzled. “Why did you yell, Benny? The trunk is right in front of us. It’s not missing.”

  “The trunk has been moved!” he said. “It’s not all the way up against the wall anymore.”

  Mrs. McGregor and Grandfather came in. Mrs. McGregor said, “That old thing! I wish someone would steal it. It takes up too much room and it’s hard to dust. And it’s not a proper storage place for important papers. Everything gets all jumbled inside.”

  “But it’s part of the house,” Grandfather said. “I can remember it here when I was a little boy, so that means it’s very old. I suppose I should move our passports somewhere else though.”

  “I hope someone didn’t steal those,” Henry said.

  “I’ll check.” Jessie lifted the lid. “They’re here,” she said, relieved at the sight of the documents.

  “What’s that?” Benny pointed at something wrapped in silver tissue paper in one corner of the trunk.

  “I don’t know,” Grandfather said.

  Violet took the object out and unwrapped it carefully. Everyone crowded around to see. Inside the bundle was a tiny painted ceramic turtle. It had a black and orange design on its back.

  “I don’t remember ever seeing that before.” Grandfather frowned. “Do you, Mrs. McGregor?”

  “No, never.” The housekeeper shook her head.

  “That’s strange. May I see the turtle, Violet?” Grandfather’s voice had become very serious. Violet handed it to him. “I need to make a phone call in private,” he said. “Why don’t you all get dressed and then come back down.” He motioned for them to go out in the hall. As soon as they were out of the room, he shut the door so he was in the study by himself.

  Henry was surprised at the sudden change in Grandfather. “Let’s do what Grandfather wants,” he said. “I think we may have a mystery to solve after all.”

  The Turtle and the Truck

  When the children were dressed they came back downstairs, then Grandfather opened the door to the study and called them in. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “Mrs. McGregor is right. We need a file cabinet for important papers. I never liked that trunk and I don’t like that turtle. Jessie, you can call the place on the flyer and ask them to get someone over here to appraise it.”

  “Are you sure?” Mrs. McGregor asked. “It has been here a long time. It’s not that difficult to dust.”

  “And it fits in with all the other old things in the study,” Violet said. “Like the old telephone and the typewriter in here.”

  “I’ve decided,” Grandfather insisted. “We’re getting rid of it.”

  “I’ll call,” Jessie said. But she couldn’t help but wonder—why had Grandfather changed his mind so quickly?

  Jessie dialed the number. Someone answered the phone on the first ring. A man’s raspy voice said, “Reddimus Curiosities. We’re curious about everything.” Jessie explained about the trunk.

  “That sounds like something we might find very interesting,” the man said. “We’ll be over in…” he paused and then added, “seven minutes.” He hung up the phone before she could say anything in reply.

  Jessie put down the phone. “They’re interested. Someone will be over in…er, seven minutes.”

  “Seven minutes? How do they know that’s how long it will take them?” Henry asked.

  Jessie shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s what the man told me.”

  Henry looked at his watch. When seven minutes were up and the doorbell hadn’t rung, he said, “So they didn’t really know how long it would take them.”

  Benny ran to the window to look out. “There is a truck out front!” he cried.

  “That’s strange,” Jessie said as she went to the door and opened it. “I didn’t hear a truck pull up.”

  A big old white truck was parked outside. The words Reddimus Curiosities were painted in purple letters on the truck’s side. There was also a logo that consisted of a fancy R inside a circle made up of swirls. An image of an owl was placed so it looked like it was sitting on top of the letter. A man got out and hurried up the Aldens’ steps. He was dressed in a very formal black suit with a white shirt and a purple flower in the buttonhole of his coat. He had on a purple bow tie just like the one on the man who had delivered the flyer.

  Jessie whispered to Violet, “He’s very dressed up to be driving a truck.”

  Violet whispered back, “He’s a little scary looking, or else he’s not feeling well. He’s very pale.”

  Benny took a step away from the window. “He looks like a vampire!”

  Henry put his hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Benny, vampires aren’t real. You know that.”

  “If they were real, they’d look like him,” Benny said.

  Grandfather opened the door. The man handed him a business card but didn’t speak. Jessie caught a glimpse of it. It had the same R in a circle that the truck had on it and a few words. She didn’t get a good enough look to read them.

  Grandfather looked at the card and said, “Mr. Ganert, thank you for coming so promptly.” He introduced the children.

  Mr. Ganert shook all their hands and then said in a low voice, “Tell me about the man who left the flyer.” His words came out crackly and hoarse as if he didn’t speak much. “We don’t have anyone in the neighborhood handing out flyers.”

  Jessie described him. “Did I forget anything?” she asked the rest of them.

  “You forgot the part about how he had been a pirate,” Benny said.

  “He did say that,” Jessie told Mr. Ganert. “He was probably just joking around.”

  Mr. Ganert frowned. “Yes. I don’t believe we have any former pirates working for us. This is all very odd. I’d like to see the trunk and the turtle now, if possible.”

  They took him into the study. He examined the trunk and the turtle very carefully. When he was done, he said, “I need to buy both items. I’ll give you five hundred dollars for the two.”

  Grandfather nodded. “They’re all yours.”

  The man pulled a checkbook and a pen out of his coat pocket. He wrote a check and handed it to Grandfather. “I want to
pick these up as soon as possible. I’ll come back in a few hours with a helper to collect them. You will need to unload the contents you want to save. We’ll take anything you don’t want.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Grandfather said. He turned to the children. “Can you unload the trunk? I’ve got a meeting I need to get to.”

  “We can do it,” Jessie said. “We’ll get started right away.” She was surprised Grandfather was going out. He wasn’t wearing a suit as he usually did for work meetings.

  Grandfather smiled. “I’ll show Mr. Ganert out since I need to leave if I’m going to get to my meeting on time.”

  Mr. Ganert shook all their hands again and said, “Until we meet again.”

  As soon as they were gone, Violet wiped her hand on her shirt. “Ugh. His hand was cold and sweaty at the same time.”

  “He acted like he didn’t want to be here,” Jessie said.

  Benny looked out the window to make sure Mr. Ganert was gone. “I hope we don’t have to meet him again. I still think he might be a vampire.”

  Mrs. McGregor said, “Let’s not worry about him any longer. I have a box in the basement I can give you for the papers in until we get a file cabinet. Benny, why don’t you come down with me and you can carry it back up.”

  “Okay,” Benny agreed and followed Mrs. McGregor out of the room.

  Jessie opened the lid of the trunk again and peered in. “The stack on the right is old magazines. I don’t know why we saved those.”

  Violet picked up one and leafed through it. “I don’t either. They aren’t even ones we could cut up for the pictures.” She put it back in the trunk. “I’d like to look at that turtle again before it’s taken away.”

  “Me too,” Benny said as he came in carrying a box. “I really like it.”

  “I just don’t understand how it got here,” Henry said. “Last year I went all through the trunk when I was looking for some old photographs and I know it wasn’t there then.”

  Violet picked the turtle up and then turned it over. “Sometimes potters or pottery makers put their names on the bottom of the work. Look. Here’s something.” On the underside of the turtle were the letters I K A C O M A.

  “That must be the name of the artist,” Jessie said.

  Violet turned it back over and looked at the design on its back again. “This might be a Native American design. I saw a book on famous Native American potters at the pottery studio when I took a class there. The book was full of pictures of their beautiful pottery. The design on this turtle looks like some of the pictures.”

  “There are hundreds of Native American nations,” Henry said. “That doesn’t narrow it down much.”

  “Yes, I know,” Violet said. “And my teacher said not every nation has a tradition of making pottery. The ones that do each have their own designs, and individual artists have their own styles too. We’d have to do a lot more research.”

  “Could Ikacoma be the name of a Native American nation?” Jessie asked.

  “Maybe,” Violet said.

  Jessie put a stack of their old artwork in the box. “I’ll go get my laptop and we can research it. It will just take a minute, and then we can finish the trunk.”

  When she had brought the laptop down and turned it on, she typed in Ikacoma. “Nothing is coming up under that word. No person and no Native American nation.”

  “The library has a whole section of books on art,” Violet said. “We could look there.”

  “We can go after we finish with the trunk,” Henry said.

  “We shouldn’t take the turtle with us,” Violet said. “It really doesn’t belong to us anymore since Mr. Ganert gave Grandfather the check for it. What if we dropped it and broke it?”

  Henry took his cell phone out of his pocket. “We can leave it here. I’ll take some pictures of it.”

  The telephone on the desk rang just as Henry finished photographing the turtle. Henry answered it. He listened and then said, “We’ll be right there.” Hanging up the phone, he said, “There’s an emergency at Storytown Books. The roof is leaking and a lot of rain is coming in. They’re calling all the regular volunteers to see if we can come in to move the books before they get ruined.”

  “That’s terrible,” Violet said. “Their big sale to raise money for the library was supposed to start tomorrow.”

  “You all go,” Jessie said. “I’ll finish the trunk. We don’t all need to do it, and when I’m done, I’ll come help at the bookstore.”

  Violet picked the turtle up. “I’m going to wrap it back up. It would be awful if it broke.”

  “You can put it on top of the magazines,” Jessie said. “I’m done with that part.”

  Once the turtle was back in the trunk, Violet hurried to catch up with Benny and Henry, who were putting on their coats and rain boots.

  “Are you sure you don’t want help, Jessie?” Henry asked.

  “No, this is really a one-person job. I’ll be done soon.” She went back to work as soon as Henry, Violet, and Benny were out the door.

  As she picked up a pile of postcards, Watch put his front paws on the side of the trunk and looked in. He crouched down as if he were ready to leap up into it.

  “No, Watch, you can’t get in there,” Jessie said, grabbing his collar. He whined but obeyed, sitting down next to her and sniffing the postcards.

  “I bet you smell all the places these have been.” she said. They were postcards the Aldens had mailed to Mrs. McGregor on their travels. “We’ll definitely save these.” Jessie put them in the box. “I hope we get to send more soon.”

  The phone rang again. Jessie picked it up and said hello.

  “Is this Jessie?” A woman asked in a whispered voice.

  “Yes,” Jessie replied. She couldn’t recognize the voice.

  “This is Mrs. Jamison. I’ve lost my voice and I need your help.” Mrs. Jamison was their friend who lived around the corner. The Aldens often did yard work for her. “Mittens has gotten out, and it’s raining, and I’m so worried about him. I got a call that a black and white cat who looked like him was spotted in the park. I hate to ask you to go out in the rain, but I’ve been very ill and I don’t know who else to call.”

  “I’m sure I can find him,” Jessie said. “I’ll go to the park right away.”

  “Thank you. Thank you! I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The woman hung up the phone before Jessie could say goodbye.

  Jessie was about to go get her coat when she saw Watch eying the trunk again. “You aren’t going to get in there while I’m gone,” she told the dog as she shut the lid.

  She searched the park for a long time but couldn’t find the cat. Hoping he had gone home, she hurried to Mrs. Jamison’s house. She rang the doorbell and Mrs. Jamison opened the door.

  “Jessie, what a nice surprise,” Mrs. Jamison said in a normal voice. She didn’t sound or look ill at all. “Won’t you come in?”

  “Did Mittens come home?” Jessie asked. “I couldn’t find him in the park.”

  “In the park? What would he be doing there? He’s been asleep all morning on his favorite chair.”

  Jessie was very confused. She explained about the phone call.

  “That wasn’t me,” Mrs. Jamison said. “It sounds like someone was playing a mean trick on you. How terrible! And now you are all wet. Won’t you come in for some hot chocolate?”

  “No thank you,” Jessie said. “I have another place I need to be.”

  As she walked home, Jessie wondered if the others would still need her help at the bookstore. It had taken her so long at the park, she thought the bookstore problem might already be solved.

  When she turned the corner to the Alden’s street, she was surprised to see the Reddimus Curiosities truck was in front of their house. A man began to close the back gate on the truck. Jessie could see the trunk inside it. “No, wait!” Jessie yelled. The man didn’t hear her. He climbed into the truck and drove off.

  “Oh, no!” She ran as fast
as she could but quickly realized she was not going to be able to catch it, at least not on foot. She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. Then she raced to the garage and grabbed her bike and jumped on.

  She saw the truck just as it turned the corner onto another side street. Jessie followed, braking just enough to make the tight turn. Please stop! her mind screamed as she kept her eyes on the truck and tried to get closer.

  Finally, the truck came to a stop at a light a block away. Jessie hoped she could reach it in time. But the driver kept revving the engine and inching the vehicle forward. Jessie pedaled faster. Almost there, she thought.

  When she was about ten feet behind the truck, the light changed and the truck sped through the intersection. Jessie sped up too, but the truck was too fast for her. She fell farther behind, hoping for another stoplight. Instead, the truck turned onto a very busy road and disappeared from her sight.

  “No!” Jessie cried out loud. There was nothing she could do now except turn back and go home.

  Curious about Reddimus Curiosities

  Jessie was upset at herself for not telling Mrs. McGregor the trunk wasn’t ready. What would they do now?

  Her brothers and sister were already home when she went into the house.

  “It was a trick!” Benny cried when he saw her. “There was no leak at the bookstore. We walked all the way there, and everything was fine!”

  “Yes,” Henry said. “I didn’t recognize the voice on the phone. He wasn’t speaking very loudly, but I just thought it was a bad connection. We can’t figure it out.”

  “What’s wrong, Jessie?” Violet asked. “You look upset.”

  “Someone played a trick on me too.” She explained about Mittens and the Reddimus truck. “The trunk is gone and I hadn’t finished unloading it.”

  “It sounds like someone wanted us out of the house,” Henry said. “But I don’t understand why.”

  “I don’t either.” Jessie grew more upset. “The worst part of this is that our passports are gone. I hadn’t put them in the box yet.”

  “Maybe they took them out for us,” Violet said. “I’ll go look.” Benny ran into the study. After a moment he called, “I think you should come in here.”