Secret of the Mask (7 page)

“It’s big,” Jessie said, “and holds five candles.”

“I’ve certainly never seen anything like that. It’s probably out with all the other junk in the garage.”

“Then will you let us into the garage,” said Henry, “so we can look for it?”

“I … I don’t have the key. Grandma Belle’s grandson put it away someplace. Now, I have no time, no time at all. I insist you do not disturb us again.” This time, when she shut the door, they heard the loud click of the lock.

The children walked down the front steps, but they didn’t get on their bikes. “I don’t trust Nurse Rumple alone with all of Grandma Belle’s things,” said Violet. “I don’t want to leave here until her grandson comes back.”

“Follow me,” said Henry, walking quietly around the side of the house. “We need to take a look at that garage.”

They peeked in the garage window. Every inch of space was crammed with old tables and chairs, dishes and silverware. White boxes were stacked near the door. A black clay pot rested inside a box on a bed of popcorn. “That’s like the pot the woman was making at the powwow today,” said Violet.

Jessie burned with anger. “Nurse Rumple didn’t move these from the house because they were too much clutter. She moved them so they’d be easier to steal!”

Suddenly, the back door to the house jerked open. “Quick!” Henry said, leading them across the alley where they hid behind a neighbor’s garage. They peeked out as Nurse Rumple hurried to the garage carrying a green garbage bag. She unlocked the garage door and disappeared inside.

“She does have the garage key,” said Benny. “She lied.”

A few minutes later, Nurse Rumple carried a white box out to a trash can and placed it gently inside. She went back into the garage and a minute later brought out two more white boxes to put in the trash. Pretty soon, the can was so full that the lid barely fit on the top of the can. Her cell phone rang.

“Yes?” she snapped. “What! He’s done already? I thought I gave her grandson plenty of chores to keep him busy. All right, all right, get over here, now. Yes, right now! We have to get all of this stuff out of here before the new nurse comes. I’ll keep him busy in the house until you pick up the goods.” She hurried back up the walk to the house.

As soon as the back door closed, the children ran to the trash cans and peered inside. Every can was filled to the brim with white boxes. The trash cans smelled like fresh-popped corn.

“She’s been stealing Grandma Belle’s wonderful things,” said Violet. “We have to stop her.”

They ran around to the garage. In her hurry, Nurse Rumple had left the door unlocked. The children quickly ducked inside. They heard a truck rumble down the alley and stop outside the garage. Henry peered out the small window. “It’s the orange truck,” he whispered. “He and Nurse Rumple
are
working together.”

Jessie jumped up. “I’m going to call Officer Morgan.”

Henry grabbed her arm. “Tell him to get here right away.”

“Please hurry!” said Violet.

Jessie took off, running at top speed through the yard, cutting across to where they’d seen the mother and toddler out in front. The others watched, not daring to breathe until she was safely out of sight.

Benny climbed up on an old box, trying to see out the window. He watched the man with the beard climb out of the truck and walk to the trash cans. Suddenly, the box crumpled under him and Benny fell with a loud thud. The driver stopped, tilting his head, listening. The children ducked down, freezing like statues under the window.

What if the man came into the garage? What if he found them? Henry crawled to the door. He quietly pushed it closed, turning the lock good and tight. He crawled back under the window, and pressed his back against the wall to huddle down with the others.

Heavy footsteps. Someone brushed against the window! The children felt sure he could hear their hearts beating. Sunshine behind the man cast his shadow as he peered in. The shadow looked left, then right. After a few moments, it disappeared. The children stared at the doorknob. It jerked left and right, left and right. For a moment everything went still, then footsteps tramped back around the garage and out to the alley.

They listened to the clatter of trash can lids, the opening and closing of the pickup truck doors. “Do you think Jessie reached Officer Morgan?” whispered Violet. The truck engine roared, and the pickup drove off.

“Oh, no,” said Benny. “He’s getting away!” In a flash, Henry unlocked the door and yanked it open, just as Nurse Rumple banged a suitcase down the back stairs.

“What!” She gasped, staring at Henry. “What are you doing here?”

“Hide,” Henry whispered to the others. Violet and Benny ducked behind an old chair. Henry stood guarding the doorway.

“Get out!” yelled Nurse Rumple, hurrying toward the garage, clacking the suitcase behind her. “Get out of my garage!”

“This is not your garage,” Henry said.

“Don’t you talk back to me, young man,” she said, wagging a finger in his face. “Don’t you—”

“Go!” shouted Henry. Violet and Benny jumped from behind the chair and dashed past Nurse Rumple, not stopping until they were inside Grandma Belle’s house. They quickly locked the door.

Nurse Rumple spun around, not sure where to turn first. “You … you little thieves. I’ll call the police. I’ll—”

“Yes,” said Henry. “Call the police. In fact, you don’t have to. My sister has already taken care of that.”

With that news, Nurse Rumple turned and ran across the backyard. In seconds, four Greenfield police cars—their sirens blaring—squealed up to the house with Officer Morgan’s car close behind. Henry dashed to the front. “She went that way!” he yelled as he directed the police through the backyard.

Benny ran to Officer Morgan. “You have to hurry,” he said. “The man in the orange truck is getting away.”

“An orange truck should be easy enough to find.” Officer Morgan phoned in an alert.

Grandma Belle’s grandson pulled into the driveway. He looked very frightened.

“What’s wrong? Why are the police here? Has something happened to Grandma?”

“I’m fine, dear, I’m fine.” Grandma Belle smiled, waving as Violet pushed her wheelchair onto the porch. “I napped right through all the excitement. Thank goodness these wonderful children were here.”

The police returned with the nurse in handcuffs. “Found her trying to escape down the alley on the next block,” one of them said, leading her away.

“Where are they taking Nurse Rumple?” asked the grandson.

“She’s no nurse,” said Benny. “She’s a thief!”

“That she is,” said Officer Morgan. “My friend has been on her trail all week.”

Violet stared at the man climbing out of Officer Morgan’s car, the man with the braid down his back and the silver bracelet. “Children,” said Officer Morgan. “I’d like you to meet Ahote, chief detective of the Hopi tribal police.”

It was Benny’s idea to serve Nurse Rumple’s big bag of popcorn. “I know I can’t eat packing corn because it’s stale,” he said, “but this was just popped.” The children quickly arranged a picnic on Grandma Belle’s front porch. Violet poured everyone an ice-cold glass of water just as Grandma Belle’s grandson came out of the house.

“I’m staying for a few days,” he said, “just to be sure you’re all right.”

Ahote came around from the garage, pulling a wagon filled with Hopi treasures. He sat on the steps next to the children.

“You have done something very important, today,” he told them. “Rumple and her brother, the man in the orange truck, are wanted by police in eight states. She pretends to be a nurse and finds jobs taking care of people like Grandma Belle. Then she and her brother steal everything they can, and move on. She never left fingerprints, so the police didn’t know who she was.”

“That’s why she was scrubbing everything,” said Jessie, “to erase her fingerprints.”

Ahote nodded. “I came to Greenfield for the powwow and saw one of our sacred masks in an antique shop window. The owner wouldn’t tell me where she got it until I showed her my police badge. She found the receipt but it had no name or address, just ‘Locust Street.’ The shop owner gave me the mask in a white box. I decided to drive along Locust, and I saw you pulling a white box in your wagon. I followed you.”

“You came to our yard sale looking for more masks,” said Benny.

“Yes. Your sister said you’d had a mask for sale but by the time I came it was gone. I thought you’d sold it.”

“No. I wanted to keep it,” said Benny. “I put it in the garage. But then it was stolen.”

“By the man in the orange truck,” Henry decided. “Watch, our dog, must have tried to stop him. He chased the thief around the garage, then into the alley. I think the thief threw the box with the popcorn at Watch to keep him busy long enough for him to escape.”

“Did you really think we were selling stolen kachinas?” asked Violet.

Ahote’s cheeks reddened. “The evidence did point that way. Luckily, you caught the real thief.”

“I feel so silly,” said Grandma Belle. She looked lovingly at the beautiful items in the wagon. “I never even suspected what was going on.”

“Rumple was very good at what she did,” said Officer Morgan. “She’s fooled many people over many years.”

Gently, Ahote took Grandma Belle’s hand. “Your father’s collection—the kachina masks and clay pots—did not belong to him. They belonged—they still belong—to the Hopi people.”

The old woman’s eyes grew wet with tears. “He didn’t know. He was just a young boy, playing in the land near his home. He found things the way any child might. My father was a good and honest man. He would never keep something that belonged to someone else. Nor would he want me to. She patted Ahote’s hand. “Please take back everything that is yours. And, tell the people from your tribe that we meant no harm.”

The powwow was one of the greatest days ever! Grandfather came, and Grandma Belle and her grandson. The children walked along with Officer Morgan, taking a taste of every food Benny brought them. Violet spent the afternoon making a beaded necklace, and Jessie learned to shoot a bow and arrow. Henry entered a footrace that went all around the park three times. He came in tenth place, which was very good for a boy of fourteen.

Finally, it grew dark. “I must go,” said Grandma Belle. “I’ve decided to live with my grandson in California.” She smiled at Henry. “When I saw how beautiful you made my garden, I realized my house needs young people to care for it. You are all invited to come for a visit as soon as you can.”

They promised they would, then went to meet Ahote and the Hopi elders around the great bonfire. “I’ll be right there,” said Henry, running to Grandfather’s car and returning with a large bag.

“Thank you for returning our treasures to us,” said Ahote. “The elders asked me to invite you to sit next to us.”

As the bonfire sparks flew up into the night sky, the children watched many dances and listened to beautiful songs. It was late when Grandfather said it was time to go.

“Just one minute,” said Violet. Although she was usually shy in crowds, she took the bag from Henry and stood in front of Ahote and the Hopi tribe. “We would like to give these gifts to you,” she said. And, with that, she opened the bag and took out the rain-sticks the children had made.

“These are wonderful gifts,” said Ahote. “We promise to use them. Back home in Arizona it has been a very dry season, even for the desert. We need rain.”

Benny jumped up. “Let me show you how they work,” he said, turning his rainstick slowly until the popcorn kernels fell down against the nails. “See, it sounds like rain.”

Suddenly, they heard the long low rumble of distant thunder.

“Oh,” said Benny. The others tried not to laugh as he quickly put down the rainstick. “M … m … maybe,” he said softly, “you should put these away until you get back home.”

G
ERTRUDE
C
HANDLER
W
ARNER
discovered when she was teaching that many readers who like an exciting story could find no books that were both easy and fun to read. She decided to try to meet this need, and her first book,
The Boxcar Children,
quickly proved she had succeeded.

Miss Warner drew on her own experiences to write the mystery. As a child she spent hours watching trains go by on the tracks opposite her family home. She often dreamed about what it would be like to set up housekeeping in a caboose or freight car — the situation the Alden children find themselves in.

When Miss Warner received requests for more adventures involving Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny Alden, she began additional stories. In each, she chose a special setting and introduced unusual or eccentric characters who liked the unpredictable.

While the mystery element is central to each of Miss Warner’s books, she never thought of them as strictly juvenile mysteries. She liked to stress the Aldens’ independence and resourcefulness and their solid New England devotion to using up and making do. The Aldens go about most of their adventures with as little adult supervision as possible — something else that delights young readers.

Miss Warner lived in Putnam, Connecticut, until her death in 1979. During her lifetime, she received hundreds of letters from girls and boys telling her how much they liked her books.