by Shari Barr
Alex: Hey, McKenzie and Kate. We were hoping you’d show up tonight. Another mystery for us, huh? A treasure hunt. How fun!
Elizabeth: This sounds exciting. Tell us everything that has happened so far.
Kate quickly typed a message, telling them about the light in the library and the missing journal. She also mentioned the rustling noises in the cornfield and the open window at the school.
Elizabeth: I think these are all possible clues. We don’t know what happened to the journal, but I’m guessing the intruder knows. If God wants us to solve this mystery, He’ll help us find more clues.
The girls readily agreed with Elizabeth. McKenzie often wished she was a little more like the oldest Camp Club Girl. Liz always remembered to put God first in everything she did. McKenzie often wondered if God was disappointed in her because she was so unlike Elizabeth at times.
With a sigh, McKenzie chatted online a few more minutes with her friends. Then they logged off.
“You know, Kate, I don’t think Ross forgot to lock the library door or left the window open at the school.” McKenzie changed into her pajamas and slid beneath the covers.
“What do you think happened?” Kate climbed into bed and switched off the light on the nightstand.
“I don’t think an intruder just happened to find the library unlocked. I think somebody had a key. Somebody who knows about that treasure. After we left they came back and stole the journal with the clue in it, hoping we wouldn’t find it.” McKenzie stretched on her side, looking at the moon glowing brightly outside their window.
“Why wouldn’t the intruder have taken the journal with him the first time? If he heard us coming, why didn’t he grab it and run?” Kate asked.
McKenzie thought about that for a moment then had another thought. “The room with the old journals and other records was in a room without a window. When Biscuit started barking, the intruder probably went to the big room to look out the front window. Then he probably got scared and ran the minute he saw us crossing the street,” McKenzie explained. “I bet he was hiding in the woods watching us.”
“Yes, then he came back in and stole the journal after we left,” Kate agreed.
“We’ve got a lot of work to do while we’re here,” McKenzie said. “We just have to find that treasure before we leave next week.”
After breakfast the next morning, McKenzie and Kate headed down the driveway toward Heritage Farms. Uncle Luke had asked them to help in the barn, bottle-feeding a new calf. Charity Whitson, a sixteen-year-old girl working on the pioneer farm, would arrive soon. She needed help doing chores before the attraction opened for visitors at 9:00.
“Have you ever fed a baby calf?” Kate asked as the girls slipped through the gate and headed toward the barn.
“Lots of times,” McKenzie answered. “We raise cows on our farm in Montana. You’ll love the little calves. They are so cute. But they’re awfully naughty at times.”
The girls arrived at the huge, round barn and stepped inside. This was the neatest barn McKenzie had ever seen. She’d never been in a round barn before coming to Heritage Farms. All of the barns she’d been in were rectangle barns, with either wood or metal siding. In the round barn, the stairs leading to the loft curved upward in the center of the building. She couldn’t wait to see the loft, since the door had been locked the day before.
McKenzie sniffed the musty smell of hay and manure. She loved living on a farm, working with the animals, and helping her dad with farmwork. She heard a calf bleating on the far side of the barn and a muffled voice.
Heading toward the calf pen, she jumped as a girl rounded the corner, nearly running into her.
The girl’s long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her large brown eyes widened. “Oh, hi,” she said. “I’m Charity. You must be McKenzie Phillips and Kate Oliver. Mr. Randall said you’d be helping me this morning.”
For a minute, McKenzie didn’t know who Charity was talking about. She’d never heard anyone call her uncle “Mr. Randall” before. “Uncle Luke said we could feed the baby calf.”
“Oh, sure. There’s a bottle on the floor by his pen.” Charity brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. “I was just getting ready to feed him. He’s just around the corner.”
“Thanks, Charity,” McKenzie said. “After we’ve fed him, we’ll be back to help you with chores.”
Charity smiled and continued around the curved wall of the barn. McKenzie tugged Kate’s arm, leading her toward the calf pen.
“Oh, isn’t he cute!” Kate cried as she saw the black, white-faced calf standing in the corner on skinny, wobbly looking legs.
McKenzie grabbed the large plastic bottle, flipped the latch open on the gate, and stepped inside. The baby calf eyed them, his huge black eyes unblinking.
“Hi, Naughty,” McKenzie said softly, holding the bottle out toward the calf.
“Naughty? Is that his name?” Kate asked with surprise.
“Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you. Aunt Cara named him that for a reason.”
The baby calf stared at the bottle then trotted toward McKenzie. He grabbed the large nipple in his mouth and began sucking. McKenzie tipped the bottle up, watching the milk foam as it trickled down his chin. He jerked on the nipple, as if that would speed up the flow of milk.
Within a couple of minutes, Naughty had finished the bottle. McKenzie jerked it out of his mouth and handed the empty bottle to Kate, who had stepped into the pen. Still hungry, Naughty eyed the bottle and jerked his head. He suddenly lunged toward Kate.
She screamed as the calf lumbered toward her. Kate turned, running out the open gate. Naughty pounded the ground after her, pushing his head against Kate’s backside. With his head, he lifted Kate’s small frame, sending her sailing through the air like a flying puppet!
The Bully
“Kate!” McKenzie cried, running to her friend sprawled on the ground. “Are you okay?”
Kate grabbed her glasses lying on the dirt floor. She blew the grunge off and slipped them back on. She stumbled to her feet, brushing dust and bits of hay off her jeans and T-shirt.
“I think so,” she stammered. Then she turned to the calf and shook her finger at him. “You naughty little calf. What did you do that for?”
McKenzie giggled as she grabbed Naughty and pulled him back into the pen. “I warned you. Baby calves are sure cute, but they’re very ornery.”
“Maybe your aunt should have named him something else. Naughty doesn’t really suit him.” Kate backed away as the calf tried to nuzzle her arm. “She should have named him Killer.”
McKenzie laughed as she tugged Naughty away from the gate. Then she hurried back through and slammed the gate shut behind her before the calf could escape.
After securing the latch, the girls headed across the barn to look for Charity. Approaching the door, they heard raucous laughter outside in the barnyard.
McKenzie gasped as she stepped through the doorway. Charity stood with her hands on her hips, her face flushed. A bucket of ground corn lay spilled on the ground. The front of her faded black T-shirt was covered with the yellowy-white dust. She glared at a boy standing nearby who looked to be fifteen or sixteen years old.
“Blake Reese!” Charity cried, brushing the corn dust off her clothes. “What did you do that for? You made me spill this whole bucket.”
“I didn’t make you do anything. You’re just clumsy,” the tall boy said with a haughty laugh. “Better clean it up before you get fired. That would make your mama so-o-o sad, wouldn’t it? She’s so poor. Boo-hoo.”
McKenzie hurried to Charity’s side, ignoring Blake. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Charity answered, her voice trembling. She fell to her knees and began scooping the fine corn back into the bucket with her hands.
“What are you two twerps doing here?” Blake asked, turning his attention to McKenzie and Kate kneeling beside Charity.
“We’re staying with my aunt and uncle, the Randalls,” McKenzie said. “We�
��re going to farm camp this week and helping out around the Farm.”
Blake threw his head back and laughed. “Ooh, I bet you’re going to be a lot of help. You look like a couple of wimps.”
McKenzie felt her face grow warm. She bit her tongue to keep from lashing back and looked uneasily at Charity.
“Leave them alone, Blake,” Charity demanded. “They haven’t done anything to you.”
“All right, all right,” Blake said. “I’ll leave you girls alone. I see the boss lady coming anyway.”
McKenzie stared at the boy as he turned and strode across the yard. When he was out of sight, she turned to Charity.
“What was that all about?” she asked, still scooping corn into the bucket.
Charity sighed, resting her dusty hands on her legs. For a minute, McKenzie thought she wasn’t going to answer.
“Blake’s just a bully, that’s all,” Charity said softly. “Don’t worry about him.”
“But he was being so mean,” Kate said, shooing a fly away.
“I’m used to it,” Charity said, standing up and grabbing the bucket’s handle. “Everything he said about me is true. My family is poor. I’m working here trying to help my mom raise my little brother and sisters.”
“That doesn’t give Blake the right to be mean,” McKenzie said, walking beside Charity to a lot beside the barn.
The older girl slipped through a gate and dumped the bucket of corn into a feed bunk for the cows in the lot. “I’m proud of the work I do here at the Farm, because I’m able to help my family. I just try to ignore Blake. My dad once told me that when people hurt others, it’s because they’re hurting inside. When Blake gets to be too much, I try to remember my dad’s words.”
McKenzie nodded. Charity’s words made sense. She wanted to ask more questions, but a voice called out behind her. She turned and saw Aunt Cara approaching.
“Hi, girls. Did you feed Naughty?” she asked with a smile.
“Yes, Charity had the bottle ready, and Kate had a good time. Didn’t you?” McKenzie asked teasingly.
“Yeah, it was great,” Kate said with a sigh. “How can something so cute be so naughty?”
“Welcome to life on the farm.” Charity grinned, latching the gate behind her before heading into the barn.
Aunt Cara motioned for the two younger girls to follow her. “I’ll take you over to the pioneer farm. I thought it would be fun for you to help out there this morning. By the time you get your costumes on, the visitors will start coming through.”
As the three headed across the grounds, McKenzie asked, “Aunt Cara, do you know Charity well?”
“I know her father died of cancer several years ago. Her mom is having a rough time with three other young kids at home besides Charity,” Aunt Cara answered.
“Where does she live?” McKenzie asked as they approached the old-time village of Cedar Grove.
“Her family lives outside Winterset, a town north of here a few miles. A tornado hit their home a couple of years ago and pretty much demolished it. After the debris was cleaned up, Mrs. Whitson moved a trailer house onto the property. Charity started working here last summer to help out her mom. Then she works weekends during the school year when we’re open.” Aunt Cara stopped at a long, modern building near the entrance to the Farm.
“Let’s stop in here at the employee lounge and get your costumes, girls. If you’re going to work at the pioneer farm, you have to look like pioneers.” Aunt Cara opened the door and ushered the girls inside.
Ten minutes later, the girls had changed into long dresses and bonnets. Aunt Cara led them to the 1850s’ pioneer farm where they would spend the morning in workshops.
First, they watched a woman spin wool into yarn. Then they headed to the pioneer cabin with a group of girls about their age. Now they would learn to knit.
The girls sat on a bench beneath a shade tree, and Chelsey, a young woman dressed as a pioneer, handed knitting needles and balls of yarn to every girl. McKenzie fumbled with her needles, trying to hold the needles and yarn as Chelsey instructed. She watched her teacher and then glanced at the girls around her. But each time she tried to loop her yarn around the needle, the yarn slipped off and she had to start over. She felt as useless with knitting needles as she did the first time she had used chopsticks.
“You’re talented,” Kate teased McKenzie after they had worked for almost an hour. “You knitted a string better than anybody I know.”
“It’s not a string,” McKenzie replied defensively. “It’s a scarf for my cousin’s doll.”
The girls chuckled as they examined each other’s projects. McKenzie decided that if she’d lived during pioneer times, she would rather have been a boy. Keeping house was definitely not something she liked to do. She would much rather be out working in the fields, even if it was hot and the work dirty.
With their pioneer activities done for the morning, McKenzie and Kate hurried back to the lounge to change clothes. After hanging their garments in lockers, they headed across the grounds toward the 1900 farm.
McKenzie’s stomach rumbled as she sniffed grilled hamburgers and french fries wafting through the air. She groaned as she noticed the long line of people lined up to eat at the Grill. The rows of long tables under the large red-and-white tent were already full of diners.
“Let’s ask Charity if she wants to eat with us,” McKenzie said as they approached the round barn.
Charity had changed into a pair of faded bib overalls with a long-sleeved shirt. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat to keep the hot sun off her head, like turn-of-the-century workers had done. A group of tourists of all ages gathered around her as she led them out of the barn from a tour.
After the group left, the girls hurried to Charity’s side. “What time do you get your lunch break?” McKenzie asked.
“Would you like to go to the Grill with us for lunch?” Kate asked before Charity could answer.
“I usually go about now, but I bring my lunch.” Charity took off her wide-brimmed hat and wiped her sleeve across her sweaty forehead.
“Why don’t we get our sandwiches and come back over here to eat with you?” McKenzie asked.
“Uh,” Charity stammered and glanced away. “I forgot my lunch today. When it’s this hot out, I don’t get very hungry anyway. You guys go ahead.”
Thoughts of Charity’s family raced through McKenzie’s mind. She wondered if Charity didn’t have money to eat out. She probably gave all the money she made to her mom.
“I have a better idea,” McKenzie said. “Why don’t you come eat with us? Aunt Cara said she had tacos ready for us to heat up if we wanted to eat at home. She has plenty.”
“That’s a great idea,” Kate said with a smile. “Please come eat with us. I’m ready for some air-conditioning, anyway.”
For a minute McKenzie thought Charity wasn’t going to accept. But finally she agreed to go home with the girls.
The house was quiet when the girls arrived there and started warming the food in the microwave. Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara didn’t always come home to eat lunch. Not only were they the caretakers of Heritage Farms and Village, they also managed the modern farming exhibit. If they had a demonstration scheduled, they packed a lunch and ate at the field.
After McKenzie said a short blessing, she passed the bowl of taco meat to Charity. “You’ve lived around here for a while, haven’t you? Have you heard anything about a hidden treasure?”
Charity stopped with her taco in midair and her eyes widened. “How did you hear about that?”
“Yesterday about dusk, we saw a light on in the old library. By the time we got there, the person had run off. But he left a journal out, and we saw a riddle about a treasure,” McKenzie said, biting into the crunchy shell.
“Was the journal written by Harley Drake?” Charity asked after she took a drink of milk.
Kate glanced at McKenzie. “Yes. Have you heard of him?”
Charity shoved the last bite of taco in her mouth.
“I sure have. He was my great-grandfather. I never knew him because he died before I was born. The family heard that he hid a treasure somewhere. But it’s just a rumor. I’ve never actually read the journal or seen the riddle.”
“He wrote a clue in his journal.” Kate explained the picture she had taken. “I memorized the first part: ‘Beneath the shimmering rose man’s lights.’ But we can’t remember the last half.”
Charity helped herself to another taco. “I think the riddle is a hoax anyway. My mom said her grandpa was a prankster, always playing tricks on people. There’s probably nothing to that story.”
McKenzie sighed as she drank her milk. “So why would someone steal the journal?”
“Someone stole it?” Charity asked.
“After we told Uncle Luke about the intruder, he went to the library. He said the journal was missing,” McKenzie said.
“Are you sure your great-grandpa didn’t hide a treasure somewhere?” Kate dropped a piece of taco meat into Biscuit’s mouth as he sat beside her chair.
“My grandpa did have money at one time. He sold part of the farm to the developers of Heritage Farms. Though he made a lot of money from that sale, he invested the money in the stock market. But he lost everything. Don’t you see? He had no treasure to hide, though I wish he did.” Charity glanced at her watch then pushed her chair back. “I need to get back to work. Trevor, one of the boys who helps at the 1900s’ farm, and I are supposed to give a demonstration this afternoon. Our boss, Mr. Weaver, wants us to help him build a split-rail fence.”
The girls agreed to get together again, and Charity headed back to work. Moments later, Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara walked through the back door.
“Who do you think is responsible for the thefts?” Aunt Cara asked her husband, kicking her shoes off at the door. “And what about the missing set of keys?”
Uncle Luke shook his head as he poured iced tea into two glasses. “I have no idea. Could be anyone. But we’ll need to change the locks soon before more items disappear.”
“What thefts?” McKenzie asked, loading their dishes into the dishwasher.
