The Boxcar Children Mysteries: Books One through Twelve (68 page)

“Can’t it be fixed?” asked Mr. Alden.

“Sure. Only it will cost money. I’d do it for you if I had the money.”

“Would you fix it yourself?”

“No. My son is the handy one. He could put on new shingles.”

“You get him if you can,” said Grandfather. “We’ll go right up to the house. Ask your son to come up and see me. We must certainly have the roof fixed.”

“Good,” said Mr. Morse. “Here’s the key to the back door. My son will come in soon to see who was in the store.”

Mr. Morse came out and watched the Aldens get back into the station wagon. He said nothing. The car began to move. Still Mr. Morse said nothing. But when the car had rolled down the drive, he called, “There’s a lot of other things the matter with that farm! You won’t like it!”

But the Aldens were on their way to the farm on the hill and Henry did not turn back.

N
ow why in the world did Mr. Morse call to us after I got started?” asked Henry.

“Well, that’s the way people are up here,” said Grandfather. “I remember now. You have to get used to it. They have all the time there is. Never in a hurry.”

“I suppose I should have gone back,” said Henry.

“No,” said Grandfather. “We’ll wait now and see the house. Then we will find out what’s wrong. These people are the best people in the world. They will do anything for you. You just wait and see. They can even hurry if you tell them why.”

Violet looked at Jessie and smiled. They loved to see their grandfather so happy. He was looking all around him at the little village.

“See!” he said. “There’s the old Bean farm!”

“Bean farm?” said Benny. “Do they raise beans?”

“Oh, no. Mr. and Mrs. Bean used to live there. They had two sons,” said Mr. Alden. “I remember the Bean boy who was just about my age. In mischief all the time. Good looking boy, but always in trouble.” Mr. Alden threw his head back and laughed. “I remember Jane liked him pretty well. Very well, I mean. She always stood up for him.”

“What became of him?” asked Benny. “Did he grow up bad?”

“I don’t know, Benny. That’s a long story. You see he got into trouble with an old gun up here. The next day he was gone. Nobody ever found him. Jane felt pretty bad. I think Jane might have married him.”

“He ran away?” asked Henry.

“Yes, I suppose he did. Later on, we heard he ran away to sea. He got a job on a ship and went around the world. Anyway, nobody knows where he is now. He may be dead. Probably is dead.”

“Aunt Jane would be sorry,” said Violet.

Mr. Alden looked at his gentle granddaughter. “Yes, Jane would be sorry. Nobody ever knew where he got that gun.”

“Did he shoot anybody with it?” asked Benny.

“No. He shot at the big trees to scare people. Queer thing happened. He started a forest fire. Oh, what a fire that was! The house almost caught on fire. But the neighbors put it out. In the morning he was gone.”

“What was his first name?” asked Jessie.

“Now what was his name?” said Grandfather. “I have forgotten. It was a long time ago. I was a boy myself.”

“It’s a nice house,” said Henry.

“Yes, but not as nice as our farmhouse. Ours was built in 1750. There are four big chimneys. You can see the date on the front chimney, I think. It used to be there. There! Look over there! That’s the old house!”

Mr. Alden was so excited that the children were excited too. They looked toward the top of the hill. There stood an enormous white farmhouse. Two large elm trees stood beside the house. Behind the house was a great red barn, and behind the barn was a field and then woods.

“I don’t see anything bad about the house,” said Jessie. “It needs paint, maybe. But it looks all right to me.”

“The roof leaks,” said Benny.

“Wait and see,” said Henry. “I think that if Mr. Morse said we wouldn’t like it, something must be wrong with it.”

“There’s the 1750 on the chimney,” cried Benny. “Painted white.”

Henry turned the station wagon again and there they were, right by the back door of the house. They all got out of the car. They stood and looked at the house. Then Henry put the big key in the back door and turned it.

“The door key works anyway,” he said. He pushed the door open.

“I’ll go in first,” said Mr. Alden. “Then you children follow. Nobody has been here for a long time.” The house looked cool and dim inside.

First they found themselves in a back pantry. Next came the old kitchen.

“Oh, look!” cried Jessie. “What an enormous fireplace!”

“I could lie down in that fireplace!” shouted Benny.

“Don’t,” said Jessie. “And look at the old brick ovens on both sides.” She opened the doors.

“Say!” exclaimed Benny. “That must be where they baked bread.”

The kitchen was a big room. Next everyone went into the sitting room. The carpet was dusty, but not too worn. The chairs and tables were covered with dust.

The Aldens turned to the left and came to the long hall. The front door was at one end of the hall. On the other side of the hall was a parlor and a bedroom. The Aldens walked quickly through these rooms. There would be time to explore them later.

“I suppose there are four bedrooms upstairs,” said Jessie.

“Oh, let’s go upstairs,” said Benny. “Maybe there is something wrong up there.”

“I can’t see anything wrong downstairs,” said Henry. “It’s only dirty and dusty. A fireplace in every room. Think of that!”

“Upstairs, too,” said Grandfather. “That’s how we kept warm. There were no heaters in those days.”

Upstairs they went. There were the four bedrooms. No bathroom.

“We simply can’t stay here, Grandfather,” said Jessie, the good housekeeper. “It is too dirty.”

“Oh, no! We will stay at a motel as I said. Maybe we can
get
somebody to clean this place up.”

“We could do it,” said Benny.

“No, it will take a strong woman to do this. And maybe a man would be still better,” said Mr. Alden. He looked around thoughtfully.

“There’s a man at the back door,” said Benny. “I can see his car.”

They all went down to find a tall young man getting out of a car.

“Are you Mr. Morse’s son who can fix the roof?” asked Benny.

“That’s right, son,” said the man. “Call me Sim. I’m Simeon Morse.”

“Oh, that’ll be neat!” shouted Benny. “When Sam comes we’ll have Sim and Sam!”

“And who is Sam?” asked Sim.

“He is coming with my sister,” said Mr. Alden. “You’ll get along fine with Sam. He and his wife are going to handle the farm work for my sister. Now I want you to tell me the truth, young man.
What
is the matter with this house?”

Sim stood on one foot and then the other. He was very nervous.

“Well, I’ll tell you the truth. I
don’t
know.”

“You don’t know? Then what makes you think there is any trouble here?”

“I don’t know that, either,” said Sim.

Grandfather sat down in a kitchen chair and leaned forward. “Now, Simeon,” he said. “You sit right down here. I want to know just what’s going on. Your father says there is something strange about this place. And you think so, too. What makes you think so? After all, I used to live here and nothing seemed so mysterious then.”

Sim looked at Grandfather for a moment. Then he said, “But your family left, just the way all the others have. Nobody stays.”

“But what is it that makes you think this?” Grandfather asked.

“Kind of silly,” said Sim.

“Never mind that. I want to know what it is, silly or not.”

“Well,” said Sim, “maybe you know the Bean family? Used to live over in that next house?”

“I certainly do.”

Sim went on. “There used to be an older boy there who found a gun some place.”

“I know,” said Grandfather. “I have forgotten his first name.”

“Andrew,” said Sim.

“That’s right! Andrew it was! We called him Andy and his father didn’t like it. Andy Bean! How could I forget that? Now what’s the story?”

“Well, that Andrew was wild. He made a lot of trouble. And that gun set this whole place on fire. They put the fire out, but Andrew never showed up again.
Never.
His brother got the farm.”

“Well, what’s the matter with this house? That was long ago.”

Sim looked at Mr. Alden. “You want the truth of it? Seems as if nobody ever got along very well here after that. Bad to worse. People tell all kinds of stories. They
say
that Andrew found the gun here, and somebody was hiding here and gave it to him. Somebody up to no good.”

“Now who could that be?”

“I don’t know. It was a terrible long time ago.”

“What kind of a gun was it?” asked Henry.

“Yes! That’s a good question. We’ve got that gun over to my father’s house right now. It’s an awful old gun. The kind they used in the Revolutionary War. Long time ago.”

“I should like to see that gun very much,” said Mr. Alden.

“See it any time,” said Sim. “Ask my father.”

Mr. Alden looked at Henry and Jessie. “I think there is some story about this gun. And we need to find out what it is!”

“Oh, boy!” cried Benny. “And now we’ll have some fun. When my grandfather really gets going, Sim, things
happen.
”

“I bet,” said Sim. He smiled at Benny.

“Now, Sim,” Mr. Alden went on, “is this house dangerous? Can’t it be fixed and cleaned up?”

“Sure,” said Sim. “Nothing wrong with the house itself, I guess.” He scowled.

“I thought you said there
was
something wrong with the house!” cried Mr. Alden.

“It’s just what people say and how they feel about this place. Bad luck. The
house
is all right. I guess we ought to put a heavy post in the cellar to make the floor safe. Fix the roof. Fix the windows. Paint a little. You could live here OK.”

“Well, you’re a fine friend,” said Mr. Alden. “I’m glad we found you. Can you get some help and start right to work on this place? Today?”

“Today? Well, I don’t know about today.”

“Why not?” asked Grandfather. “Are you busy somewhere else?”

“Well, I guess I could leave. I’m just fixing my tractor. Do that any time.”

“What about help?”

“I guess the neighbors would help. They are glad Miss Alden is coming back here. May change the old place’s luck.”

“You mean the neighbors know already?” asked Grandfather.

“Oh, sure. Knew that last night. Everybody knew it last night.”

“Well, news goes around fast,” said Grandfather. He laughed. “I remember it did when I lived here. You get your help because I don’t know the people yet. Start right away. I will give you some money to buy paint, wood, and that beam for the cellar.” He counted out some money for Sim to use.

“You folks can’t live here now,” said Sim, looking at the four children.

“Oh, no. We thought we could find a motel.”

“Yes, you can. Right down the road, about four miles. It’s a nice motel. Got a carpet on the floor and a TV and everything.”

“Oh, Sim,” said Jessie, “how about a bathroom in this house? Can you put in a bathroom?”

“Where did you want a bathroom?” asked Sim.

“I thought two,” said Jessie. “You could easily take a piece of the big hall. One upstairs and one downstairs.”

“Right, Jessie,” said her grandfather. “Anybody around here put in a bathroom?”

Sim scratched his head. “I always wanted to put in a bathroom,” he said. “Costs too much, though.”

“Well, you go ahead,” said Mr. Alden. “Get all the men you need. The thing is, I want this done as soon as possible. Jane wants to move right away this minute.”

“She’s changed some, I guess,” said Sim. “My father says she used to move slow. And you were the fast one.”

“Right,” said Mr. Alden. “Jane has changed a lot. We both move fast now, Sim. Tell your father.”

“No fear,” said Sim. “I tell him everything.”

While Mr. Alden and Sim talked, Violet and Benny went exploring.

Violet found a path through the uncut grass of the yard. It led to the front door. There she found some big, flat flagstones, warm in the sun.

Benny ran toward the barn. He poked his head through the crack left by a sagging door. The barn was dark and empty. An old lantern hung on a peg beside a broken harness. Nothing moved. “Spooky,” Benny thought to himself.

Suddenly it seemed a long time since their early breakfast. Benny ran back to Grandfather. “I’m hungry,” he said.

“Again?” asked Grandfather. “Have you forgotten that breakfast?”

“I have myself, Grandfather,” said Violet. “I wish we could have a picnic and not go to the motel for lunch. This is such a nice yard.”

“You call this a nice yard?” asked Sim. “You ought to see it when the grass is cut. Looks good.”

“Look at those enormous flat stones by the front door,” said Violet. “We could take a chair out there for Grandfather and have a fine picnic.”

Mr. Alden always listened to Violet. “Well,” he said, “let’s go down to the motel and get some sandwiches, and ask them to fill our Thermos bottles. Could we get sandwiches at the motel, Sim?”

“Well, you could,” said Sim. “But my wife would love to make you some chicken sandwiches. She makes ’em fine.”