Mystery of the Stolen Sword

by Charles Tang

  “I don’t think Mike and Jeff are really suspects,” Henry said.

  “What makes you so sure?” Jessie said, holding her pencil poised over her notebook.

  “Seymour has known them too long, and nothing has ever been taken from the farm before,” Henry answered.

  “That’s true.” Jessie tapped her pencil on her notepad.

  “Well, that leaves Veronica and Martin, the two high school kids who just started working on the farm this year,” Violet said.

  “The ones we haven’t seen yet,” Jessie said, looking up from her notebook.

  “We should ask Seymour if we can meet them tomorrow,” Henry said.

  “And we should also try to find Benny’s ghost. Right, Benny?” Jessie looked over at her brother, only to find that Benny had fallen sound asleep and was snoring gently.

  “It’s been a long day,” Jessie whispered.

  Henry nodded as he carefully picked up Benny to carry him off to bed.

  The next morning the Aldens woke up just before sunrise. “It was the rooster,” Benny told Grandfather at breakfast. “It was the rooster that got me up so early.”

  “That’s his job,” Grandfather said, laughing.

  As soon as breakfast was over, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny hurried to the barn to help Seymour feed the animals.

  They watched carefully as Seymour milked the cows. “I do it the old-fashioned way,” he said as he sat on a pail beside one of his cows and began pulling at her teats. Milk squirted into another pail under the cow.

  “Many farmers use milking machines now,” Seymour explained. “But I don’t have enough cows for a machine. It’s easier for me to milk them this way.”

  “I’d like to try to milk a cow before I leave,” Henry said.

  “Oh, I trust you’ll have the chance,” said Seymour, chuckling. “But right now, if you like, you can brush down the horses.”

  “Sure,” said Henry, grabbing a brush.

  “Hey, that’s my job.” A tall, thin girl with shiny brown hair tied back in a ponytail strode into the barn. “I always brush the horses,” she said haughtily. “They’re used to me.” The girl wore blue jeans, a red-and-black-plaid wool jacket, riding boots, and a red bandanna around her neck. Her blue eyes flashed as she glared at Henry.

  “Now, Veronica,” Seymour said gently. “It’s good for the horses to have other folks brushing them down once in a while. They need to get used to other people.”

  Veronica continued to glare at the Aldens as Seymour introduced them to her.

  “Are you used to horses?” she asked Henry, who was still holding the brush. “Do you know how to groom them properly?”

  “Well, not really,” Henry was forced to admit.

  Veronica rolled her eyes.

  “That’s all right, son,” said Seymour. “Veronica or I can teach you all you need to know. Isn’t that right, Veronica?”

  Veronica sighed heavily. “How long will you be staying here?” she asked.

  “About a week or two,” Jessie answered for all of them.

  “Well, that’s hardly worth taking the time to teach you,” Veronica remarked.

  “Now, Veronica,” Seymour spoke sharply, “the Aldens are my guests. They’ve already been a big help to me, and I will thank you to treat them politely. If you don’t feel like showing them what needs to be done, then I’ll teach them myself.”

  Veronica scowled. “I’ll show them,” she said sullenly.

  Veronica and the Aldens spent the next hour together feeding, grooming, and brushing the horses, while Seymour mended some fences outside. Veronica showed the Aldens what had to be done by doing most of the work herself, while they watched.

  “Now, I don’t want you riding Hazel or Mister Mist without my permission,” Veronica was saying as she brushed Mister Mist. “They’re not used to strangers. They only like it when I handle them. Seymour says I’m the best rider on this farm — the best rider in this whole town, in fact.”

  “We wouldn’t ride them without asking anyone,” Jessie said.

  “Good.”

  Henry cleared his throat. “It’s a shame about those robberies, isn’t it?”

  Veronica stiffened. “What robberies are you talking about?”

  “You know, the robberies on this farm,” Jessie said. “Someone stole Seymour’s stamp collection and some old letters written more than a hundred years ago.”

  Veronica frowned. “No one told me,” she said. “When did this happen?”

  “A few days ago,” Henry answered. “At least that’s when Seymour noticed that the stamp collection and letters were missing.”

  “He’s missing a sword, too. A sword from the Civil War,” Benny added before he noticed Jessie’s face warning him to keep quiet.

  Veronica looked puzzled. “You mean someone stole a sword out of that musty old passageway?”

  Henry nodded.

  “I don’t like to hear that there were burglars near the barn because that means the horses could be in danger,” Veronica said as she fluffed up Mister Mist’s mane.

  “From what Seymour said, these burglars are after antiques, not animals,” Henry pointed out.

  “Well, still, I worry. If anything happened to these horses, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “You seem to care for these horses very much,” Violet said, softening a little toward Veronica.

  “Well, of course. Who wouldn’t?” Veronica exclaimed. Then she frowned suddenly and turned away from the Aldens to hang the grooming brushes back on the wall. “I have to go home now. I mostly just help with the horses now that the picking season is over.”

  “Have you been working here long?” Henry wanted to know.

  “Have you been here long enough to see the ghost?” Benny asked.

  “No and no.” Veronica actually smiled for the first time that morning. “I began working for Seymour this fall because he needed the extra help, but I’ve known Rose and Seymour all my life, practically. I live just down the road.”

  “Why have you never seen the ghost if you live near here?” Benny asked.

  “Well, to tell you the truth,” Veronica began in a superior tone of voice, “I don’t believe in ghosts. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen it.” With that, Veronica spun around and walked out of the barn before the Aldens could say anything more.

  “Boy, is she rude,” Jessie muttered.

  “She wasn’t so bad, once we got her to talk more,” Violet remarked.

  “But she’s such a show-off.” Jessie was almost sputtering. “She hardly let us touch her precious horses, and they’re not even her horses, really. And did you see the way she acted when we mentioned those robberies?”

  “Yeah, she looked kind of uncomfortable. And then she told us she’d never heard about them,” Henry said.

  “We’ll have to watch her,” Jessie said.

  “We should watch everybody,” Henry advised.

  “Now, don’t you mind Veronica too much,” Seymour told the Aldens when he walked back into the barn. “She acts all high and mighty, especially when it comes to the horses, but she’s all right.”

  Jessie was not convinced.

  “Seymour?” Benny began. “You believe in the ghost, don’t you?”

  “Benny, to tell you the truth, I’ve never actually seen it. But people have noticed signs.”

  “What kind of signs?” Benny sounded eager.

  Seymour chose his words carefully. “Well, Benny, some of the farm workers say they’ve heard things.”

  Benny nodded. “Grandfather told us about that,” he said.

  “And some say they’ve actually seen markings on the trunks of the apple trees. Markings carved by a knife of some sort,” Seymour continued. “They think those markings are the work of the ghost because no one else would mark those trees up.”

  Benny’s eyes were very round.

  “Do you believe a ghost made those markings?” Violet asked.

  Seymour’s eyes twink
led. “Well, now that you mention it, there is another explanation for these markings,” he answered.

  “There is?” Benny couldn’t believe it.

  Seymour nodded. “When my children were little, they used to make carvings in those trees with their penknives. But when I caught them doing that, I made them stop.”

  “So, those markings are pretty old, then,” Henry remarked.

  “Yes, most of them are, but Jeff told me he’s been seeing some new ones. He thinks it’s the work of kids in the neighborhood.”

  “It could be the work of the ghost,” Benny said firmly.

  “Could be,” Seymour said. “That’s what a lot of people think.”

  “This we have to see!” Henry exclaimed.

  CHAPTER 6

  Signs in the Orchard

  Before long, the Aldens were walking through thick rows of apple trees. The wind swirled red and yellow leaves around them.

  “It’s pretty here,” Violet observed.

  “It is,” Benny agreed. “But how are we ever going to hear the ghost with all this wind?”

  Henry shook his head and stopped before a group of apple trees with thicker trunks. “These look like the oldest trees in the orchard,” he said. “I think this is where Seymour said some markings would be.”

  Indeed, when the Aldens bent down they could see weathered drawings carved into the bark. There was an X, an 0, and a symbol that Henry thought looked like a rough drawing of a sword.

  “Maybe the 0 is really an apple,” Violet suggested.

  “What does the X stand for?” Benny wanted to know.

  Henry shrugged. “Beats me,” he said. “Remember, this was part of a game Seymour’s children used to play.”

  “Let’s see if we can’t find the newer markings,” Jessie suggested. “These carvings are pretty faded.”

  The Aldens walked alongside the trees, crunching fallen leaves beneath their sneakers. Benny gathered a pile of the leaves in his arms and threw them at Violet. Violet threw some leaves back at Benny. Before long, masses of leaves whirled through the air.

  “Looks like you’re having fun,” a voice said.

  The Aldens turned to face a tall blond boy who stood grinning at them. “I was just pruning some of these apple trees,” the boy explained as he pointed to the large power saw by his feet. “I work in this orchard part-time after school.”

  “Are you Martin?” Jessie asked.

  The boy nodded. “I am,” he said. “And you must be the Aldens. Seymour told me you’d be visiting. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “We’re pleased to meet you, too,” Jessie said for all of them.

  “We’re looking at these markings on the tree trunks,” Benny informed Martin. “Do you know about them?”

  “Oh, those,” Martin said, laughing. “I think they must have been part of a game the Curtis children used to play.”

  Benny looked disappointed.

  “Are there any other markings like this?” Violet asked.

  “I haven’t seen any,” Martin answered. “But then again, I haven’t been looking.”

  “What do you know about the ghost?” Benny asked Martin.

  Martin laughed. “Well, I’ve heard some rustling in the trees, but I think it’s the sound of an animal, not a ghost.”

  “You’ve never seen the ghost?” Benny asked.

  “No, I don’t think I have,” Martin answered. “But you know, in most of the ghost stories I’ve read, the ghost never actually appears.”

  “It doesn’t?” Benny’s eyes were as round as saucers.

  “No.” Martin sounded very sure. “The room, or the area where the ghost is supposed to appear, just gets colder. And lights flicker, that kind of stuff. People sense a ghost is around, but no one ever actually sees it.”

  “I never thought of it that way.” Benny sounded much happier. He walked farther into the orchard, and the others followed, including Martin.

  Henry was the first to see two markings scratched into the bark of one tree. “These markings look newer!” he exclaimed.

  “Why do you think so?” Violet asked as she bent down to look at them more carefully.

  “They don’t look as weathered,” Henry answered. “So it’s easier to make out what they are.”

  “It’s true,” Jessie agreed. She sat on the ground near Henry. “Here’s a drawing of a sword with a curved blade.”

  “That’s interesting,” Henry said. “Do you think this is still part of the game?”

  “It could be a message or signal for someone,” Violet suggested.

  Jessie’s eyes lit up. “I wonder if the sword that’s missing has a curved blade.”

  “Maybe it’s the ghost of Joshua saying he wants that sword,” Benny pointed out.

  “Maybe,” Martin said. “But I’ll bet it’s a signal for someone who’s alive today, maybe the burglars who take antiques.” He sounded as excited as Jessie.

  “Yes,” Henry agreed. “The message could be that the coast is clear to take a sword with a curved blade.”

  “We should tell Seymour right away,” Jessie said. Benny had already turned around to go back to the farmhouse.

  The Aldens and Martin had not gotten too far when Veronica stepped out from behind a tree and walked directly into their path.

  “Martin, I’ve been looking all over for you.” She sounded angry.

  “Oh, hi, Veronica,” Martin said, blushing a little.

  “Why weren’t you over by the tree where you said you would be? Do you know how long it’s taken me to find you?”

  “Well, Veronica, I—”

  Veronica put her hands on her hips. “I’m sure you have a good excuse, as always,” she interrupted.

  “Veronica, I was helping the Aldens find some markings on the trees. We think these markings might be a clue — you know, for those burglaries.”

  “Oh.” Veronica looked somewhat interested. “Why don’t we take a walk and you can tell me all about it,” Veronica suggested, locking her arm through Martin’s.

  “So long,” Martin said, nodding to the Aldens. He looked sorry to be saying good-bye to them. Veronica firmly led Martin away without a word to the Aldens.

  “I can’t believe someone as nice as Martin is going out with Veronica,” Jessie muttered as the four walked quickly in the other direction — toward the farmhouse.

  “She is so rude to us,” Violet complained. “Did you see how she acted like we weren’t even there?”

  “She probably wishes we weren’t around,” Jessie remarked. “If it weren’t for us, Martin would have been waiting for her by the tree.”

  “Yeah,” Benny agreed.

  “You know,” Henry began, “I wonder how much of our conversation she overheard. I wonder how long she was behind that tree.”

  “Do you think she might have been spying on us?” Violet wondered.

  “That is just what I was thinking,” Henry admitted.

  “Well, did you see the markings?” Seymour wanted to know as soon as the Aldens walked in the door of the farmhouse.

  “We sure did,” Jessie said.

  “We saw two kinds,” Benny added. “Old ones and new ones. And I bet the new ones were drawn by the ghost.”

  “Where were these new markings, exactly?” Seymour wanted to know.

  “Near the horse’s pasture,” Violet answered.

  “We saw a drawing of a sword with a curved blade on one of the trees. It didn’t look as old and faded as the others,” Henry explained.

  “That’s odd,” Seymour said, scratching his chin. “The missing sword has a curved blade.”

  “We thought it might,” Henry said, looking excited. “We think it might be a signal.”

  “A signal for the burglar,” Seymour said, frowning. “I’d like to see this marking.”

  “We’ll lead the way,” Henry said.

  Before Seymour and the Aldens could get out the door, they heard Grandfather calling them from the living room. “Look at t
his!” Grandfather was almost shouting. The Aldens rushed into the living room ahead of Seymour.

  They found their grandfather seated in an old armchair by the window, rustling the newspaper, which lay open on his lap.

  “Take a look at this story,” Grandfather said as he handed the paper to Henry.

  “‘Memories of Yesteryear.’” Henry read the headline aloud while the others peered over his shoulder — all but Benny, who was too short.

  “‘Today’s column features a letter that has much to tell us about what life was like in Chassell in the horse-and-buggy days,’” Henry continued reading. Then he gasped.

  “What, what’s the matter?” Benny cried.

  “This letter is addressed to Joshua Curtis,” Henry said, lowering the paper so Benny could see it.

  “Wow, it was written in 1857,” Violet said, looking over Benny’s shoulder.

  Seymour put on his spectacles and took a closer look at the paper. “Just as I thought,” he said grimly. “That’s one of Gideon’s letters to Joshua. It’s also one of the letters that was stolen from my desk.”

  Henry looked puzzled. “Why did Gideon have a letter addressed to Joshua? Wouldn’t Joshua have that letter?”

  “Good question,” Seymour said. “Gideon made copies of every letter he sent. That’s why there’s so much correspondence in this house.”

  “I can’t believe that’s one of the stolen letters!” Rose said.

  “It is,” Seymour said, a little gruffly. “It’s the letter where Gideon is inviting Joshua to come up for a visit.”

  “I don’t think I ever read that letter,” Rose said slowly.

  “James, why don’t you read that letter aloud?” Seymour suggested.

  Grandfather cleared his throat and read:

  15 October 1857

  Dear Cousin Joshua,

  I regret to have taken so long to answer your letter dated August third. We have been busy here planting & gathering this year’s crop of apples & corn. It is hard to believe that winter approaches as it has been very warm this October.

  Sybil is preparing for the winter holidays, & we are hoping you may join us. I know the trip from Virginia is long, but we could arrange to meet you at the train station & bring you to our farm.