Ghost Town Mystery

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  The Lady in Gray

  “I wonder what she meant by that?” Violet asked when Jessie told the others about Marianne’s strange remark.

  “She said we’d find out soon enough,” Henry said, glancing around. “Talk about the Payne mansion. This place is falling apart. I wonder why Mrs. Harrington doesn’t make any repairs.”

  Jessie stopped in front of the cabin she was sharing with Violet. “Grandfather told me earlier he thinks Mrs. Harrington has fallen on hard times. She probably can’t afford to have the repairs made.”

  Henry unlocked the door to his and Benny’s cabin. “I can see why. It’s the middle of summer and hardly anybody is staying here.”

  “We’ll see you guys after we’ve unpacked and cleaned up,” Jessie said to the boys. “Then Grandfather is taking us back to see the town.”

  “I still can’t believe we own our very own town!” Benny exclaimed. “I want to be fire chief and police chief!”

  Violet giggled. “I don’t think there are fires or criminals, Benny. Nobody lives there!”

  She and Jessie went inside their cabin. The place had been cute once but now was shabby. Faded red-checked curtains hung at the single window. The knotty pine bunks were covered with Indian blankets, the holes darned many times. Dusty pictures of the Rockies hung on the walls.

  The girls stowed their clothing in the small dresser, then Jessie decided to take a quick shower.

  She came right out of the bathroom. “We have no towels.”

  “I saw Marianne put some in there before she made up the beds,” Violet answered.

  “Well, there aren’t any now.” Jessie went over to the phone on the pine stand between the bunks and picked up the receiver. A frown crossed her face as she jiggled the connector button.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Violet.

  “The phone isn’t working,” replied Jessie. “We’ve got to have towels. I’ll borrow some from the boys.”

  But Henry and Benny didn’t have towels, either.

  “This is weird,” said Violet. “I’ll go up to the main office and get some.”

  She came back a few moments later with a stack of threadbare towels. “Mrs. Harrington gave me a funny look. She said all the cabins are supplied with linens.”

  “Why would we fib about towels?” asked Jessie. “Surely she doesn’t think we stole them?” She held up one. “These barely make good rags.”

  Henry took half of the towels for his and Benny’s bathroom. “Eagles Nest is weird, don’t you think?”

  As Violet waited for Jessie to take her shower, she thought Benny might be right. Eagles Nest was odd — and so were the people who ran it. Dead phones, missing towels ... what would happen next?

  “I’ll never get used to this road!” Henry yelled as the Jeep tore up the mountain.

  The Aldens were glad when the road finally ran out and Grandfather parked the Jeep. Early evening sunlight dappled the trail. Now that they were aware of the altitude, they didn’t try to climb so fast.

  “What are you going to do with your property?” Henry asked his grandfather.

  Grandfather pondered the question. “I really don’t know yet. What do you children think I should do with it?”

  “Aldenville?” Jessie chuckled.

  “No! Bennytown!” If Benny had a town named after himself, he could be mayor, police chief, and fire chief.

  Before the trail ended at the canyon, where they had first glimpsed the ghost town, another trail branched off, an old unused road. Mrs. Harrington had told the Aldens to take this road down into the canyon.

  They found the fork in the path and soon were walking down the dirt road, now overgrown with weeds.

  “This is the old wagon road,” Grandfather said. “It seems steep and twisty, but a team of horses could get down into the canyon on it.”

  “I bet that ride would be wilder than in our Jeep!” Benny exclaimed, running ahead.

  The road took one more turn, then straightened to become the main street of the ghost town. A wooden sign with faint letters announced the town of Tincup.

  Benny waited for the others before entering the town.

  “All right,” said Grandfather firmly. “No one is to enter any buildings unless I go, too. Remember, these buildings are more than a hundred years old. The flooring could be rotted. Consider them dangerous.”

  The children nodded. Stores and other buildings lined either side of the street. Many had wooden awnings.

  “We’ll just stroll down Main Street first,” Grandfather went on. “Then we’ll explore indoors.”

  As anxious as Henry had been to reach the old town, he found himself walking cautiously down the dusty road. Signboards flapped in the rising wind. Creak! Creak! went the barbershop shingle. Tincup was creepy.

  Jessie was thinking the same thing. Not a living soul stays here. Mrs. Harrington’s whispered words came back to her.

  Grandfather finally broke the eerie silence. “See the raised sidewalks?” He pointed to the shallow wooden platforms built in front of the stores and the two hotels. “They didn’t have concrete back in those days. So they made sidewalks out of wood. Women wouldn’t get the hems of their long dresses muddied or dusty.”

  Violet had also been under the spooky spell of the empty old place. She was glad to picture real people in Tincup.

  “I bet their dresses were really pretty,” she said.

  Jessie nodded. “But those gowns were hard to move around in. I’d rather wear jeans any day!”

  Benny pointed to wooden poles in front of the dry goods shop. “What are those for?” he asked.

  “Those are hitching posts,” answered Henry. “When a rider came into town on his horse, he looped the reins over the hitching post so his horse wouldn’t wander off.”

  “Like parking a car,” Benny said.

  Jessie giggled. Benny could always make them laugh. “Yes, the cowboys parked their horses!”

  “Can we go into one of the buildings now?” Benny asked Grandfather. “Like that one?” He pointed to the dry goods shop.

  “Let me check it out first,” Grandfather replied. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

  “You be careful, too,” said Violet. She worried about Grandfather, even though he was healthy and fit.

  The children waited as he opened the door, which hung off a broken hinge, and disappeared inside.

  The sun was sinking below the rim of the canyon, high above the town. The wind picked up, tumbling twigs and leaves down the deserted street.

  Just as the sun touched the edge of the canyon, like a fireball in the sky, Violet noticed something.

  A figure was standing at the end of town.

  Violet gasped, and the others looked, too.

  The figure was clearly a woman, dressed in a long, plain gray dress. Her back was turned to the children. A light gray shawl was wrapped tightly around the woman’s shoulders. Stringy gray hair blew in the wind.

  “Who is that?” Jessie whispered.

  “I don’t know,” said Henry. “But I think we should tell Grandfather.”

  Just then the sun sank over the ledge, leaving a purple haze over Tincup.

  “Grandfather!” Benny called. “Come quick!”

  James Alden hurried through the door. “What is it?”

  “There’s a lady — ” Violet began.

  But the woman had vanished.

  “What lady?” quizzed Grandfather. “I don’t see anybody.”

  “She was here,” Jessie insisted. “We all saw her. She had on a long dress.”

  Grandfather stared at them. “I believe you saw something. The altitude can play tricks on your eyes.”

  “It wasn’t a trick,” Violet said. “We saw a lady.”

  “We’d better go back to Eagles Nest,” said Grandfather. “Maybe Mrs. Harrington knows about this mysterious lady.”

  Everyone was silent as they climbed the wagon road and then the trail back to the Jeep.

  At Eagles Nest
, dinner was about to be served. Mrs. Harrington urged the Aldens to sit down at the large table. Mr. Lacey, Mr. Williams, and Corey were already seated.

  “How was your trip into Tincup?” asked Mrs. Harrington.

  “My grandchildren saw someone,” Grandfather replied. “A woman. By the time I got there, she was gone.”

  “Was the woman walking toward the sunset?” asked Mrs. Harrington.

  “Yes!” answered the Alden children at once.

  “But then she disappeared,” added Benny.

  “Right as the sun went down?” Mrs. Harrington prompted.

  “Yeah,” said Benny. “How’d you know?”

  Mrs. Harrington nodded sagely. “You children saw someone very special.”

  “Who?” asked Jessie, her spine already tingling.

  “Rose Payne.”

  Grandfather’s eyebrows lifted. “Duncan Payne’s wife? But Rose Payne is long dead.”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Harrington. “But the ghost of Rose Payne is still here. Mr. Alden, you bought a ghost town that comes with its very own ghost!”

  CHAPTER 4

  The Mysterious Letter

  “A ghost!” Benny breathed.

  “Cool,” said Corey in his loud voice. “A real, live ghost in a ghost town. Get it?” he asked Marianne as she poured water into his glass.

  The pretty waitress simply ignored him. By now her mother had returned from the kitchen with a large tray. Mrs. Harrington and Marianne began setting plates in front of the diners.

  “There’s no such thing as ghosts, Benny,” Grandfather said. “You know that.”

  “But we saw this lady!” he insisted.

  “You children saw a person,” Mr. Williams said, speaking for the first time. “It couldn’t have been a ghost.”

  Deep inside, Henry knew his grandfather and Mr. Williams were right. But he, too, had seen the Lady in Gray. She had moved as if she were floating on air. And when they called Grandfather to come out of the dry goods store, she had vanished.

  “If the lady was a real person, why didn’t she talk to us?” asked Jessie.

  Mrs. Harrington nodded in agreement. “The children definitely saw the ghost of Rose Payne. That’s what she did during her last years — went down to the town and walked into the sunset. She never stopped waiting for her husband.”

  “Romantic hogwash!” Mr. Williams said gruffly. “Mrs. Harrington, you’re filling these children’s heads with a ridiculous story.”

  “It’s not a story!” Mrs. Harrington said, bristling. “I’ve lived on this mountain nearly all my life. I’ve seen the ghost of Rose Payne. I know it’s true.” She set Mr. Williams’s plate in front of him with a thump.

  He poked at the sauce-covered lump on his plate. “What is this supposed to be?”

  “Fried chicken with gravy,” the owner replied. “An old family recipe.” Then she and Marianne left to bring out the bread and a pitcher of water.

  Victor Lacey stabbed tentatively at his dinner. “If this is chicken, I’ll eat my hat.”

  Benny giggled at the thought of Mr. Lacey chewing his fishing hat. But after tasting the chicken, he gave up on the meat. The rest of dinner was just as awful. Mushy Brussels sprouts, burned rolls, salty mashed potatoes, and limp, watery spinach. It was the worst meal he had ever eaten.

  “If there aren’t any ghosts, then who did we see?” Violet asked her grandfather.

  James Alden shook his head. “I didn’t see your lady, so I can’t answer that. But we’ll visit Tincup more while we’re here. Maybe I’ll see her, too.”

  The guests finished their dinners in silence.

  “Not too many hearty appetites,” Mrs. Harrington remarked as she poured coffee for the men, and Marianne cleared away the dishes. “After a night of sleeping in this fresh country air, you’ll be ready for a big rancher’s breakfast.”

  Jessie hoped it would be better than supper.

  Marianne brought in dessert.

  “Brownies!” Benny exclaimed. “I love brownies.” But not these. His was so hard, he couldn’t bite into it.

  As Marianne took her plate, Jessie asked the young woman, “Do you believe in the ghost?”

  Marianne looked around quickly. Several people were staring at her — Corey, Victor Lacey, and her mother. It was as if they were waiting for her answer.

  “Yes,” Marianne whispered finally. “I do.”

  Jessie didn’t know if she believed Marianne or not. Was the young woman simply saying she did because her mother was watching her? Mrs. Harrington certainly believed in the ghost, or at least she gave that impression.

  Corey fiddled nervously with his fork. Then he asked Marianne, “Would you like to go on a walk with me after supper?”

  “I can’t,” Marianne said briskly, not even glancing in his direction. “I have too much work to do.”

  “How about when you’re finished?” Corey pressed. Jessie could tell he really liked the pretty girl.

  But Marianne just shook her head and hustled away with the tray of dirty dishes.

  Dinner over, the Aldens retired to their cabins. Before settling in for the night, the children met in Henry and Benny’s cabin to discuss the day’s events.

  “I’m still hungry,” Benny moaned, sitting on his bunk.

  “So am I,” Henry agreed. “That dinner was terrible.”

  Violet nodded. “Mrs. Harrington doesn’t seem to be a very good cook. But she’s been running Eagles Nest a long time. She should be.”

  “Maybe that’s why there aren’t very many people staying here,” Jessie concluded. “When people go on vacation, they expect nice, clean rooms and good food.”

  “Don’t talk about food anymore,” Benny begged. “It makes my stomach growl. Let’s talk about the ghost.”

  Always the voice of reason, Henry told him gently, “We know ghosts don’t really exist.”

  “But if it wasn’t a ghost, then who was it?” Benny demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Henry replied. “But we saw ... somebody.”

  “Who? And why was she in Tincup?” asked Violet. “There’s absolutely nothing in that town except dust and tumbleweeds.”

  Benny bunched his flat pillow so he could rest his head. “I like Tincup. I think it’s neat.”

  “It is neat. But there’s no way anybody could live there.” Violet looked at her older sister. “What did you ask Marianne?”

  “I wanted to know if she believed in the ghost,” Jessie replied. “Before she answered me, she kind of glanced around to see who was listening.”

  “Who was listening?” asked Benny.

  “Her mother was watching us,” Jessie replied. “And Mr. Lacey and Corey.”

  “Corey likes Marianne,” Violet put in. She could see why. Marianne was so beautiful, with her jet-black hair and sky-blue eyes.

  “I don’t think she likes him,” Jessie said. “Corey’s so loud. And his jokes are bad. But Marianne acted strange when I asked her about the ghost. Like she was afraid.”

  “What would she have to be afraid of?” Henry wondered.

  At that moment, a loud clang caused them all to jump.

  “What was that!” Benny exclaimed.

  “It came from the bathroom.” Henry went to investigate. He returned with a U-shaped pipe. “Don’t plan on using our sink tonight, Benny.”

  Jessie recognized the pipe as the part that curved under the sink. She shook her head. “This place is a disaster! You guys can use our sink till Mrs. Harrington gets yours fixed.”

  “If she gets it fixed,” Henry said.

  The next morning, the boys met Victor Lacey on their way to the dining hall. Benny carried the curved pipe.

  “Did that fall out of your sink?” asked Mr. Lacey.

  Henry nodded. “We’re going to tell Mrs. Harrington to call a plumber.”

  “I can fix that in a jiffy. All I need is a wrench.” He left to fetch Mrs. Harrington’s toolbox. Then Mr. Lacey quickly fitted the pipe back under the sink. As
he tested the water so it drained properly, he said, “Mrs. H needs a handyman. Repairmen in Beaverton are too far away.”

  Benny was admiring the tools in the metal box. “I could be her handyman.” It sounded like a neat job, along with mayor, police chief, and fire chief of Tincup. Benny liked to be busy.

  Henry noted the tools were caked with grease. No one had used them in a long time. Maybe not since Mr. Harrington had died. “Thanks,” he told Mr. Lacey. He also wondered how Mr. Lacey knew where to find the toolbox. How long had the man been staying here?

  “No problem.” The sandy-haired man smiled. “Let’s go have that hearty rancher’s breakfast!”

  “I’m starving!” Benny declared. He hoped there would be stacks of pancakes dripping with maple syrup, crispy bacon, eggs, and buttered toast with strawberry jam.

  But when he and the other Aldens sat down at the big table, they saw only bowls of runny oatmeal. The tiny glasses of orange juice had seeds floating in them.

  “This is a hearty rancher’s breakfast?” Violet whispered to Grandfather, who sat on the other side of her.

  Grandfather never complained, but he smiled as he ate the soupy oatmeal. “If I lived on this ranch, I don’t know if I’d have enough strength to climb on my horse, much less ride the range!”

  The children giggled. Grandfather could always make them laugh.

  But Mr. Williams wasn’t amused. He tossed his spoon down in disgust and demanded more coffee.

  Victor Lacey ate his cereal gamely. “I have something for you, Mr. Alden,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind a little business at breakfast.”

  “Well, it was a little breakfast so a little business should go along with it just fine,” Grandfather joked as he took the envelope Victor handed him across the table.

  The children waited anxiously as Grandfather slit the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

  James Alden’s eyebrows shot upward and he gave a low whistle.

  “What is it?” Benny asked.

  “Mr. Lacey is offering to buy my property,” Grandfather replied. To Victor he said, “This is a very generous offer. Much more than I paid for the land.”

  Victor shrugged. “Since I’ve been out here, I’ve taken a fancy to the place. The land is worthless commercially, but I’d like to have it.”