They sat down and looked at each other. They could hardly wait. Soon Jim came in with big white plates filled with hot food. “Eat all you want,” he said. “More in the kitchen. I just made two big apple pies. Maybe I can find some cheese to go with it.”
Everyone began to eat. Never did food seem so good to the hungry children. “You see, we didn’t have any breakfast,” Benny said to Jim.
Jim laughed.
“That’s really true,” said Joe. “We got caught in the rain, and lost most of our food.”
“Too bad,” said Jim. He went into the kitchen to get a pie. Soon a whole pie had disappeared, and also some fine yellow cheese he had found.
“Oh, I do feel better,” cried Violet. “I’m ready for anything.”
“Glad to hear that,” said Henry, looking at her. “You do look a little better.”
Then Alice said to Joe, “We ought to stay in Old Village for one night, anyway. I think Violet ought to sleep in a bed in a house.”
“You can do that all right,” answered Jim Carr with a laugh. “You see that little old house across the street? I don’t really own it, but I take care of it. It has been empty for many years. When campers want to stay overnight, I let them use it. I bought a lot of folding cots. The campers don’t seem to mind sleeping three in a room.”
Jessie stopped to count. “We wouldn’t either,” she said.
“Right!” said Alice with a smile at Jessie. “You and Violet and I in one room, and Joe and Henry and Benny in another.”
“There are two rooms,” said Jim. “Three with the kitchen.”
Henry said, “My! Everything is working out well, isn’t it, Joe? Is there anything interesting to see in Old Village, Jim?”
“Oh, yes,” said Jim smiling. “Some people go hunting for deer and moose. Then there’s an old hermit over in the woods. Lives all alone. People like to catch sight of him, he looks so queer with his long white beard. Then there are Indians up the road. They make baskets to sell. People always go and watch them make baskets when they stop over.”
“Oh, let’s go up and see the Indians,” said Jessie. “Do they mind? Are they old?”
“No, they don’t mind. They like it. Yes, one of them is very old. He has lived there all his life. Loves to talk.”
“Ho-hum,” said Benny looking at Henry.
“That’s what I say too,” said Henry softly to Benny. “You mean the old Indian might give us a clue?”
“Maybe,” said Benny, smiling to himself.
Henry paid for their dinner, and they all went off up the road.
“Joe,” began Jessie, excitedly, “maybe this old Indian has heard of Bill, long ago. We can ask him.”
Soon they could see an Indian girl sitting on the steps of an old house making a basket.
“My, doesn’t she work fast!” said Alice. “See her fingers fly.”
“I wish I could learn to do that,” said Violet.
“You can. I will teach you,” said the Indian girl who had heard every word. “It is not hard at all. See, I have just started this basket. See—I go in and out, over and under, with this sweet grass.”
The girl worked slowly so that Violet could see what she did. Soon she held out the basket. “You try it now,” she said.
Violet took the basket, and soon her clever fingers were going in and out, over and under, just as the Indian girl had done.
“Wonderful, Violet!” said Alice. “You can do anything with your fingers.”
“Yes, she can,” said Henry smiling. Then he thought surely Benny would say something about his sister Violet as he always did.
He looked around. But Benny was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, where is Benny?” he called.
“Benny! Ben-ny!” shouted Joe as loud as he could.
But there was no answer. Benny had disappeared.
CHAPTER 12
A Hunt for Benny
It was true. Benny was not there.
“Oh, what has happened to Benny?” said Jessie, beginning to cry.
“Now, don’t let’s get upset,” said Joe’s strong voice. “I think I know what has happened. Benny has gone off by himself to find the hermit. He hasn’t been gone long, and we can surely find him. Don’t you cry, Jessie. We’ll go and hunt for him.”
“Wouldn’t we save time by asking Jim?” asked Henry.
“Right,” said Joe. With that, they all ran back to Jim’s Place.
Jim came to the door when he saw them running toward him.
“We’ve lost Benny!” cried Jessie. “You know which way to hunt, don’t you? We think he went to find the hermit and surprise us.”
“Well, now,” said Jim, “the first thing, don’t you get scared. We’ve got Indians here in Old Village that can find anything in these woods. The little boy hasn’t been gone long. Did you ask the little Indian girl to help you?”
“Oh, dear,” said Violet. “I forgot all about the Indian girl. I just dropped the basket and ran. We all did.”
“Better go back, then,” said Jim. “I’ll go with you. Rita is a better guide than I am. She can walk in the woods and never make a sound.”
When Jim told Rita, she stood up at once and looked sharply into the woods. “I saw the little boy at first,” she said. “But I did not notice when he went. I’m very sorry. We’ll start this way.”
Rita leaned over and looked at a bush. “Yes, I think he went down this path. Keep right behind me. It is easy to get lost in these woods if you get off the path.”
It was a strange sight—six people walking behind the Indian girl in a straight line down the path. Sometimes it seemed as if there were no path at all.
Jessie walked just behind Rita. Soon she said, “Rita, Benny would never know this was a path. He may have gone off it long ago.”
“No, he couldn’t, a little boy like that,” said Rita. “He couldn’t get through. This is the only way he could go. He went this way all right. I can see where he stepped, and this is the way to the old hermit’s cabin.”
On they went, over rocks and stones and branches.
“Now, call him,” said Rita, turning around.
Henry put his hands up like a cup and called “Ben-ny!”
Then Joe did the same.
They all listened. There was no answer.
“We’ll find him just the same,” said Rita shaking her head. “If I can’t, my father can.”
They all hurried on. For a long time they walked without talking.
Suddenly the Indian girl stopped. “Be careful now,” she said. “We are near the hermit’s cabin. If we scare him, the hermit will run away, and then he won’t help us.”
Slowly and quietly they all walked along the path. Then all at once they saw the cabin. They stopped. For on the steps sat an old man with a long white beard. Beside him, smiling and talking away happily, sat Benny.
“Oh, Benny!” whispered Jessie.
“Sh!” said Rita.
But the hermit had seen them. “Come,” he said to Benny, taking his hand. “You are lost.”
Jessie could not wait. She cried out, “Oh, Benny, you scared us so!” With that, everyone began to talk to Benny, so nobody could understand a word.
“The hermit is nice,” said Benny when he could make them hear. “He was going to take me back when I got ready to go. His name is Dave Hunter.”
“That’s right,” said Jim. “His name is Dave Hunter.”
But the hermit surprised them all by turning his back. He went straight back to his cabin, went in, and shut the door.
“That’s the way he is,” said Jim. “He won’t talk.”
“He talked to me,” said Benny.
“Most anyone would talk to you, little boy,” said Jim with a smile. “Dave won’t come out again, so we might as well go back.”
Rita led the way back, and Henry put Benny right in front of him where he could watch him all the way.
As they walked along, Jim said, “You people might as well sta
y overnight. You can cook your own trout.”
“I think we must stay,” said Alice. “Violet needs a good night’s sleep after that scare. We all do.”
At the village again, they stopped to say good-by to Rita. Henry put some money into her hand. “We’ll see you again about the basket, Rita,” he said. “We were all upset about Benny.”
“I understand,” said Rita with a smile. “I wouldn’t like to lose Benny myself.”
When they reached the little house, Jim said, “You can stay here as long as you want. Walk right in. If you want anything, come over and ask me. Maybe I’ll have it.” With that, he left them to go into the house alone.
They went up the front steps. Henry pushed open the door and they all went in. They found a small room with a fireplace. There were a few chairs and some folding cots leaning against the wall. There was one big chest of drawers.
Alice and Jessie soon found the next room which was a bedroom. Then they found the kitchen.
“There isn’t any upstairs,” called Benny. “Just downstairs.”
“Oh, Violet!” cried Jessie. “Do look at this dear little kitchen stove! I wish we could get our own supper.”
“Jim said that campers do keep house here,” said Alice. “And think of Benny’s big trout. It would be fun to cook it ourselves.”
“Doesn’t this make you think of keeping house on Surprise Island?” cried Henry. “We’ll need wood for the stove and some potatoes to go with our fish. I’ll go over and ask Jim to sell us some.”
“I will go with you,” said Benny.
“Right,” said Henry, “so you won’t get out of my sight.”
“I really didn’t mean to,” said Benny. “I was coming right back. I wanted to surprise you and find the hermit first. He said I ought to go right back, and he would take me himself. He likes to live alone.”
Joe began to set up the cots. “How’s this, Violet?” he said. “You three girls take the bedroom. I’ll put three cots up for you. Then we three men will sleep in the living room.”
“That’s wonderful, Joe,” said Violet. “But let’s make our own beds with our blanket rolls. We love to make beds.”
“Well, I don’t,” said Joe. “I’ll certainly let you make mine. I’ll just set up the cots.”
The afternoon was passing quickly away. Benny soon came back with the fish and potatoes. Henry carried a big basket of wood. “Nice, dry wood,” he laughed.
Benny said, “I never thought I would just love dry wood.”
Then they went out again to the canoes and brought up the packs. Soon Jessie and Alice had a fine fire going in the stove, while Violet got the potatoes ready.
“I think we’ll eat in the kitchen,” said Henry looking around. He pulled the table into the middle of the room. “Benny, see if you can find six chairs.”
Violet found some heavy white plates, and set the table. Jessie cut the fish into six pieces before she cooked it. Then she put it in a big pan. For the first time in many days, they all sat down on real chairs to eat a meal at their own table. When they had finished supper there was no food left at all.
Before long the dishes were washed, the beds were made, and everything was ready for the night. But it was not yet dark.
“Let’s go out and sit on the front steps,” said Jessie. “We don’t want to go to bed yet.”
The family went through the little house and sat down on the wooden steps. A soft wind was blowing through the trees. Soon a toad hopped out from under the steps.
“He lives there,” said Benny. “I like to have toads living under our steps.”
“They come out at night,” said Joe. “They catch bugs.”
“You know, I feel as if something will happen soon,” said Violet slowly.
Alice turned to look at her. “That’s funny, Violet,” she said. “I feel as if we had done this before. Almost as if we had a clue and didn’t know it.”
Joe surprised them all by saying, “I feel that way, too.”
CHAPTER 13
The Tin Box Again
The next day the children were up early. They had breakfast. They made their beds.
“We ought to go down to see Rita the first thing we do,” said Violet. “We were not very polite to her yesterday. All we could think of was Benny.”
“Very well,” said Alice laughing. She sat down at the kitchen table. “You four go to Rita’s and Joe and I will write a letter to your grandfather.”
So the four children went down the road. Rita came out when she saw them coming. She began at once to show Violet what to do next on the basket. “This will be just a small basket,” she said. “You can make them as big as you want to.”
When Violet finished her basket, Benny said, “That’s very pretty, Violet. You can give it to Grandfather.”
“So I can,” said Violet, very much pleased. “He likes things we make. Now we must pay for it, Henry.”
“You have paid for it already,” said Rita, smiling. “The big boy paid me for the basket and the lesson and the trip into the woods. He really paid me too much.” She looked at Benny and took hold of his hands. “Don’t you run away, again, little boy. You make too much trouble for the hermit.”
“For the hermit!” cried Jessie. “It was more trouble for us.”
“No,” said Rita, shaking her head. “Dave Hunter was upset. I could see he liked Benny. It is the first time he has said more than one word at a time. My father says he was a very nice young man once. He built that house you are staying in.”
“He did!” cried Henry. “Did he live there himself?”
“Oh, yes. Many years ago. My father told me about it last night, after you found the little boy. He said Dave went away to work, and stayed a long, long time. When he came back he was different. He stayed in his little house for about a week, and one night some mean-looking men came to see him. They had a fight, and then they went away and left Dave alone. In a few days Dave went into the woods and built his cabin and he has stayed there ever since. He wouldn’t ever talk.”
As the excited children started back to Old Village, Benny said, “Jessie, Jessie, maybe Dave Hunter is Bill.”
“Why do you say that, young fellow?” asked Henry.
“Well, Bill could build houses. He built the little yellow house on Surprise Island and he built the little house here in Old Village.”
“Maybe you’re right, Benny,” said Jessie in excitement. “What would we ever do without you? Let’s see what Joe and Alice think.”
Joe and Alice had finished their letter when the children rushed in and began to tell their story.
“So Dave Hunter built this house, did he?” said Joe. “That must have been a long time ago, for it’s an old house.”
“Joe, Joe! I have an idea,” cried Henry. “Look around you at this house. Now—all of you pretend for a minute you’re in the little yellow house on Surprise Island.” He pointed around him as he went on, “There’s the fireplace of the little yellow house, and there’s the door, and there’s the window.”
“Of course,” said Violet, “there’s the bedroom.”
“And there’s the kitchen,” yelled Benny. “I guess Bill could just build one kind of house.”
“Why, this old house is exactly the same as the little yellow house!” cried Jessie; “the same front door with two windows on one side and one on the other.”
“The same chimney!” shouted Benny.
“And the same front steps,” said Alice slowly. “Last night I felt as if I were sitting on the steps of the little yellow house.”
“So that’s what it was!” cried Joe. “I felt that way, too. We sat there so many times after supper on our wedding trip.”
They all looked at each other.
“Now, let’s see how this was,” Henry said, excitedly. “Bill lived here first. Then he went to work for Great-grandfather Alden. Then he married Mrs. McGregor, and they lived on Surprise Island where he took care of the horses.”
“They lived in the little yellow house,” said Benny.
“That’s right,” said Henry. “He built it, Grandfather said, with the help of his brother.”
“Oh, that brother, Sam!” cried Joe. “He was not much good. I think Sam is the clue to this mystery.”
“So do I,” said Henry. “Remember Bill sold two race horses and went away without giving Mr. Alden the money.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Joe. “That’s why Bill disappeared.”
“But why didn’t he let his wife know where he was all those years?” asked Violet gently. “He loved Margaret.”
“I don’t know,” said Henry. “That’s the mystery. Maybe his brother wouldn’t give the money back, and Bill wouldn’t go home without it.”
Then Violet said softly, “Joe!”
“What is it?” asked Joe quickly.
“Do you suppose Bill’s brother hid the money in this house?”
“Maybe,” said Joe, thinking. “But it’s not a yellow house.”
“Of course he did!” said Benny. “That’s why Bill took the rowboat that night and came up here. I bet those mean-looking men were the friends, and they were looking for the money, too. Remember Rita said they had a fight?”
“Good, Benny,” said Joe. “I guess they tried to make Bill give them the money, and Bill couldn’t find it himself.”
“And there’s the mystery all solved,” said Alice laughing.
“Well,” said Henry, “I’m sure now that Dave Hunter is Bill. But where’s the money, and where’s the tin box?”
“Let’s hunt,” said Benny. “How about the chimney?”
“Not the chimney,” said Henry. “Bill would have found the money if it were in the chimney.”
“That’s right,” Benny answered.
“Not much to see,” said Jessie. “A chest and a few chairs. And our cots.”
“Do you think we ought to talk with the hermit, Joe?” asked Henry.
“No, not yet,” answered Joe. “I don’t think he would talk.”
“Well, I’m not going to sit here,” said Benny. “Let’s do something.”
The Yellow House Mystery Page 6
