“Oh, we know about Gideon,” Benny said.
Seymour looked at Grandfather and raised his eyebrows. “I can see you prepared your grandchildren well for this visit,” he said.
“But we should be glad you didn’t lose all of Gideon’s letters,” Rose reminded her husband as she handed him a piece of homemade apple pie for dessert.
“No, I have a few left. There are plenty of old letters in this house, some I haven’t even read yet,” Seymour remarked.
“Seymour, why didn’t you tell us about this? When did these robberies take place?” Jeff wanted to know.
Seymour looked at his farmhand. “I didn’t notice the missing letters until last night,” he said. “And as for the stamp collection, well, I think it disappeared maybe a week ago.”
“You should have told us,” Jeff persisted.
Seymour looked down at his hands. “Well, the truth is, I, uh, had to make sure those things really were missing. You know how forgetful I can be in my old age.”
Jeff nodded, but he looked troubled. “Did you call the police?” he asked.
“I did. They came over to check things out.”
“They told us there had been some other robberies nearby, in Chassell,” Rose said. “Chassell is the nearest big town,” she explained to the Aldens. “The thieves only took small items — old photographs, paintings, antique jewelry, things like that.”
“So these thieves want antiques,” Jeff said.
“Apparently so.” Seymour sounded grim. “I just worry they’ll take some of the old swords. But I think they’re safe enough in the secret passageway.”
“Are you sure?” Jeff asked, looking doubtful. “Everyone who’s ever worked on the farm knows about the secret passageway. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the town knew about it, too.”
“That’s true,” said Seymour, frowning. “But only the farm workers and some of my relatives know how to get inside it.”
Benny perked up. “You mean the passageway has a secret entrance?”
Seymour nodded. “It has two secret entrances in fact.”
“And all the people who work on the farm know how to get inside the passageway?” Henry asked.
“Yes, they would,” Seymour answered. “The only other people who know are my children and grandchildren, and they’re sworn to secrecy. The entrance to the passageway has always been a farm secret.”
“I guess you can’t be too careful,” said Jeff as he rose from his seat to stretch his arms. “I’m really sorry this happened, Seymour. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“I will, Jeff, thank you.”
“Well, Mike and I should be getting back to work. There’s still a lot of clearing and pruning to do.”
Mike looked at his hands. He had grown even more quiet during dessert and seemed very upset about the robberies. At last he sighed and rose, thanking the Curtises for lunch.
“Oh, you’re welcome, Mike,” Rose said.
Mike merely nodded and followed Jeff out the door.
Seymour watched them leave, stirring his coffee. He waited until the farmhands were out of sight before turning to the Aldens.
“You know, I have something to confess,” Seymour began as Rose cleared the plates from the table with Violet and Benny’s help. “This isn’t easy for me to say, but the reason I didn’t tell Jeff and Mike about these robberies right away is that, well, I just don’t know what to think.”
“What do you mean?” Grandfather asked.
Seymour sighed and looked close to tears. “Well, it’s just that whoever did those robberies knows a lot about me and where I keep my things. I just can’t help thinking that the burglar is someone I know pretty well.”
“But, Seymour, surely you don’t suspect Jeff and Mike. They’ve been working for you for years, ever since they were boys,” Rose said.
“No, I don’t believe it could be them, but I do employ other farmhands to help during the picking season.”
“Who?” Jessie wanted to know.
“Well, this fall I had two high school students, Veronica and Martin. You’ll meet them while you’re here — they still help me out around the farm. They’re good kids. I know their parents and grandparents.”
“You know, Seymour, it’s entirely possible this robbery is tied to the other antique robberies in town. It may not be anyone we know at all,” Rose said.
“I wish I could believe that.” Seymour sounded sad. “I hate to be in the position of suspecting everyone who works around here. But that stamp collection was in a secret drawer in my desk. And nothing else was touched. The thief knew just where to look.”
“You’ve told your farmhands about your secret drawer?” Grandfather asked.
“Well, yes. I like to show that old desk to the people who come in. And Jeff and Mike have seen my stamp collection.”
“Did the others know where your stamp collection was?” Jessie asked as she handed Benny more dishes to take off the table.
Seymour scratched his head. “Well, I told Veronica about it. She collects stamps, too.”
“I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions until we have more evidence,” Rose suggested. “You know that’s what the police said.”
“Right,” said Seymour. “My wife is the down-to-earth one,” he told the Aldens. “She always talks good sense.” The farmer rose slowly. “Who would like to take a walk around the farm?” he asked.
“Me.” Benny was the first to answer. “Can we see the secret passageway, too?”
“Follow me,” Seymour said, walking toward the door.
“Oh, Seymour, before you go, why don’t you show the Aldens where their rooms are. They may want to unpack, or at least unload their belongings from the car. They’ve only just arrived.”
“Good idea,” said Seymour. “I told you Rose is the sensible one.”
Everyone laughed.
The bedrooms were all upstairs on the second floor. Jessie and Violet had a fireplace and a four-poster bed in their room. Henry and Benny shared a corner room with built-in beds and bookcases.
“This is like a ship’s cabin,” Henry said happily when he saw it.
The Aldens unpacked quickly, and before long they were following Seymour outside toward the barn.
On the way, they passed a long vegetable garden guarded by a scarecrow made from sticks and straw. He wore a flannel shirt, loose denim pants, and a black felt hat.
“This is a great scarecrow,” Benny remarked.
Seymour chuckled. “He sure comes in handy in the summer when he keeps the crows from eating all our vegetables.”
One side of the old red barn was filled with hay and the other had stalls for two horses, three cows, and a goat named Elvira.
“You watch out for Elvira,” the farmer warned the Aldens. “She’ll eat anything in sight, even the shirt off your back, if you’re not careful.”
Benny giggled.
“I’m serious,” Seymour said. “She’s been known to nibble on laundry that’s hanging outside to dry. And she eats everyone’s food.” Seymour shook his head and gave Elvira a playful pat.
“How often do you feed the animals?” Jessie wanted to know.
“Twice a day, now that winter’s coming on,” the farmer answered. “Early in the morning, and then again in the late afternoon. And sometimes they also get snacks during the day.” Seymour reached into his pocket for two cubes of sugar, which he handed to Benny.
“Here, son, you can give these to the horses. They’re outside,” Seymour said, leading the way out to the pasture.
Once outside, Benny walked over to look at the two horses who were grazing near the fence. “They don’t bite, do they?” Benny wanted to know.
“Nah, they’re tame as can be,” the farmer assured him. The horses moved closer to Benny, and Benny promptly took a few steps backward, away from the fence.
“No need to be afraid,” Seymour said. He reached through the fence to pat the white horse o
n the nose. “This one is called Hazel,” he told the Aldens.
“Hazel?” Violet asked, a little puzzled.
“Her eyes are hazel,” the farmer answered.
“And this one here” — Seymour pointed to her gray companion — “is Mister Mist.”
Violet put her hand through the fence to stroke Mister Mist’s mane.
“Now, Benny, if you want to feed Hazel, put the sugar on the palm of your hand and hold your hand flat.”
Benny followed the farmer’s instructions. “Oooh, she tickles,” said Benny, yanking his hand away after the horse had taken the sugar cube. Then he quickly gave Mister Mist his sugar, while Seymour gently nudged Hazel out of the way.
Benny did not want to leave the horses, but the others were eager to continue exploring the farm.
Seymour led the way to a long, low building. “This is a shed and junk room,” the farmer explained as he pulled open the wooden door and held it for the Aldens.
“Wow!” Henry exclaimed when his eyes had adjusted to the dim light.
Inside was a large wagon. It was old and rusted now, but Seymour told them it had been used as a horse-drawn buggy. The wagon was piled high with old trunks, bundles of yellowed newspapers, and wooden crates filled with glass jars and old rusty tools.
Half the shed held modern farm equipment: tractors, ladders, buckets, hoses, pitchforks, fertilizers, and pesticides. But it was the buggy that interested the Aldens the most.
“How old is it?” Henry wanted to know.
“What’s in all those trunks?” asked Benny.
“One question at a time,” Seymour advised, laughing. “That buggy dates back to Gideon’s time, I dare say. As for what’s in those trunks, I suggest that some rainy day you all have a look.”
“Oh, we’d love to do that,” Jessie answered for all of them.
“I’ve rummaged around in one or two of them,” Seymour continued. “As far as I can recall, I found some old clothes, some hats, and even some books. Just about all the Curtises are collectors. We never seem to throw anything away.”
“Is the secret passageway in this shed?” Benny wanted to know.
“Ah, young man, I was saving the best part for last,” Seymour said. “We need to go back up to the house to find the secret passageway.”
“Okay,” said Benny, racing outside.
Once in the house, Seymour led the Aldens downstairs to the basement — a long, low room with stone walls and a dirt floor.
The children looked all around the basement. The only door in any of the walls was one at the top of a short wooden staircase that obviously led to the outside.
“How can there be a secret door?” Henry asked. “It would have to be made out of this stone that’s in the walls, and that would be awfully heavy.”
Violet spotted a tall wooden cabinet that stood against one wall near a corner. “Is the door behind this cabinet?” she asked.
Seymour chuckled. “You’re pretty darn close!” he answered as he walked over to the cabinet and opened it. There was little inside it besides two flashlights and an old kerosene lamp on the top shelf.
Seymour moved the lamp aside, handed one flashlight to Henry, and switched on the other. Holding it in one hand, he took hold of one shelf, jiggled it slightly, then pushed on it.
To the Aldens’ amazement, all the shelves and the back of the cabinet swung backward like a door, revealing a narrow opening. A cold draft blew out at them.
“The secret passageway!” shouted Benny.
CHAPTER 4
The Secret Passageway
The Aldens peered inside the opening. The passageway looked so dark and spooky with cobwebs hanging overhead that Benny was suddenly afraid to step inside, even after Seymour handed him a flashlight.
“Come on, Benny. This is one of the things you came all this way to see,” Seymour said.
“I’ll go after Henry,” Benny said in a quavery voice.
Henry had to bend down to go through the opening. He shone his flashlight against the walls and gave a gasp.
“What’s the matter?” asked Benny, who was right behind his brother.
“It’s a...it’s just that I thought I saw a person in here,” Henry explained, sounding a little sheepish. “Now I see that it’s a suit of armor.” Henry shone his flashlight all around. He saw not just one but six steel suits of armor, complete with helmets, lining the walls of the narrow passageway.
“Neat,” Benny said as he came inside. The others crowded in behind him.
Besides the armor, there were lots of old weapons: knights’ swords, a battle-ax, a crossbow, and two big shields.
“Wow!” said Benny. “Did they really fight with all this stuff?”
“No, Benny,” said Seymour with a chuckle. “For one thing, not all of it is real equipment from the Middle Ages. This suit, for example, is stage armor. It was used in a play in Boston many years ago. It looks real, but it’s much lighter than the other suits.”
“Are these swords all real?” asked Henry.
“Yes, Henry, they are indeed. This one is from the fifteenth century,” the farmer said, shining his light on it. “And this curved one is from Turkey, and here is a naval cutlass from Colonial times here in America.” Seymour beamed the flashlight on a short, heavy, curved sword. Then Seymour looked around the passageway and said nothing more for a few moments.
“Is something the matter?” Jessie asked.
“It’s strange, but I can’t find Gideon’s officer’s saber from the Civil War. It was down here the last time I was.”
Jessie and Henry exchanged glances. “You don’t think it was stolen, do you?” Henry asked.
The farmer scratched his head. “I don’t know what to think. I’d find it hard to believe a burglar would know how to get inside this secret passageway. It’s too well hidden. It was built before the Civil War to help runaway slaves escape north. After the Civil War, my ancestor, Gideon, used this passageway to store his sword and armor collection. His collection has been down here ever since, pretty much just the way you see it, though my children and grandchildren have sometimes borrowed some of the armor to use as Halloween costumes.”
“Maybe someone borrowed that Civil War sword for a costume,” Jessie suggested hopefully.
Seymour sighed. “I hope so. I must ask Rose if she knows anything about it.”
Violet shone her flashlight on the dirt floor to look for clues. But there weren’t any, just lots of indistinguishable footprints.
By now the Aldens and Seymour were at the end of the passageway Seymour shone his light on the wooden trapdoor above them. “That door goes right into the barn,” he said. “When we go through it, we’ll be right next to Elvira’s stall.”
Jessie giggled. “Won’t she be surprised.”
Seymour fetched the ladder that was resting behind one of the suits of armor.
“Want to go out this way?” he asked.
“Sure, why not,” Jessie answered for all of them.
Henry was the first one up the ladder.
“Just push the door out,” Seymour advised Henry.
“It’s heavy,” Henry answered, panting.
“I know,” said Seymour. “It’s part of the floor. I never go out this way because I’m getting too old to fool with that heavy trapdoor.”
“I know what you mean,” Henry said, huffing. “Aha, finally it’s out!” Henry climbed out into the barn. Elvira came over to greet him.
“Your goat is here, Jessie,” Henry called into the passageway.
When they were all in the barn, Seymour lowered the trapdoor, then scattered straw to conceal it. Then the Aldens insisted on helping Seymour with the animals. They brought the horses in from the pasture and fed them oats. The cows got hay that Henry pitched into their stall.
The sun was low in the sky when the Aldens walked back to the house with Seymour. Flocks of geese flew overhead, forming a pattern that looked like the letter V.
As soon as they were i
n the house, Seymour and the Aldens lost no time asking Rose if she had seen Gideon’s sword.
“No, I haven’t,” Rose said, wiping her hands on her blue-and-white-checked apron. “I haven’t been in that passageway in months.”
“Neither have I.” Seymour was scratching his head. He sighed heavily. “You don’t know of anyone borrowing that sword for a Halloween costume, or some such getup?”
Rose frowned. “Well, no. I don’t remember telling anyone they could borrow a costume this year.”
The Aldens looked at one another. “Do you think someone might have borrowed that sword without telling you?” Jessie asked gently.
Seymour sighed and looked at his wife. “It’s possible,” he said, almost as if he were trying to convince himself. “I mean, we certainly don’t keep things under lock and key here. We’ve never had to.”
“That’s true,” Rose agreed. “We’ve never had to — until now.”
CHAPTER 5
Veronica
That evening, after an early dinner, the four Alden children met in Jessie and Violet’s room.
“We just have to help Seymour and Rose solve this mystery,” Violet was saying as she leaned back against two of the lacy white pillows piled on the bed.
“All this is very upsetting for them,” Henry agreed, “especially since they think the burglar may be someone who works for them.”
“I hope it’s not,” Violet said.
“I hope not, too,” said Henry. “But a burglar who works here would be easier to catch.”
“True,” Jessie agreed. She pulled a notebook and pencil out of her blue duffel bag. “We should make a list of all the people who work on this farm and who know about the entrances to the passageway.”
“Well, there’s Jeff and Mike,” Violet said, “the ones we met at lunch.”
“The ones who’ve been working on the farm since they were in high school.” Jessie was busy scribbling in her notebook.
“Mike seemed awfully quiet once the robberies were mentioned,” Violet remarked.
The Mystery of the Stolen Sword Page 2