The Boxcar Children Mysteries: Books One through Twelve (80 page)

“We don’t know much more than we did,” said Jessie. “We just know someone—a woman—comes to work here every night. I suppose it could be some kind of hobby.”

“But the woman comes at midnight and goes away in ten minutes,” put in Benny. “How does that fit in? Nobody can do much in ten minutes.”

Henry said, “It seems to me there is no danger from someone who studies seaweed. Maybe the person’s afraid of something.”

“Isn’t it strange, Henry?” asked Violet. “You said there’s a stove there, and we’ve smelled something cooking at night.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Henry, thinking. “I have heard that seaweed could be food for cows and horses and pigs. But they won’t eat it. It tastes awful.”

“Wait!” said Benny. “I saw something else. I saw some bags on the shelf. They looked like bags of flour and sugar. There were others with no labels.”

“Now what do you think those are for?” asked Violet.

“Maybe someone is trying to make seaweed taste good,” said Jessie, half joking about the thought. “Well, let’s go. Grandfather may have some ideas.”

Mr. Alden heard the strange story. And he did have a small idea. “I was talking to Mr. Hall about the Cook boy, and he says he often sleeps all the morning.”

“Well,” said Jessie, “you remember Mrs. Ross told us the Cook boy takes his father’s boat out at night. That’s why he sleeps days.”

Suddenly Benny said, “Am I dumb! I had a clue and I didn’t fit it with the others. I was thinking about a woman in the summer kitchen because that’s all we have seen.”

He stopped, but Henry said, “Go on.”

Benny asked, “You remember when I thought I saw the Cook boy get out of his father’s boat and carry a pail away? I thought he went off up the street. I bet if I had watched I would have seen him come back into the summer kitchen. That Cook boy
and
the woman have something to do with our mystery.”

Henry said, “That paper with the squares that looked like a college experiment could belong to the Cook boy. If he is coming around here at night, that explains how we found it here.”

“Maybe we ought to put that paper back through the window, Henry,” said Benny. “The Cook boy may need it.”

“No, Ben,” said Henry. “If we put it back, he will know that someone has been there. And it isn’t time yet to tell him that. We have to make friends with him first. Then we can tell him we’d like to know more about what he is doing.”

“And how in the world are we going to make friends with that cross boy? I should like to know,” said Benny. “He doesn’t want friends. He said so.”

“Maybe he did say so,” agreed Henry. “But I think he does want friends, even if he doesn’t know it himself.”

L
et’s have a picnic,” said Violet after the Aldens had made as many guesses as they could about what went on in the summer kitchen.

“We have a picnic every meal, I should say,” said Benny. “We always eat outdoors on our own rocks.”

“Well, I mean a real picnic,” said Violet, “with a fire and hamburgers.”

“Good for you, Violet,” said Henry, smiling. “I’m all for it. You mean a real cook-out.”

“I don’t want hamburgers this time. I want frankfurters,” said Benny.

“You can have two if you want. Or three,” said Jessie. “And this time let’s get a real fire going and not be in a hurry. It cooks better when it has burned down.”

They went to the store and bought long rolls, big sweet pickles, and brownies as well as the meat. They left Watch outside.

Suddenly they heard him bark.

“Oh, boy,” said Benny. “He’s barking just the way he does in the night.”

They all rushed out and Jessie called, “Stop it, Watch! Come here!”

Then they saw that he was barking at the Cook boy.

“He won’t bite,” said Jessie. She smiled at the boy. “He just barks.”

Watch came to Jessie when she called, but he still growled in his throat. Violet could see that the boy did not like this.

“You don’t need to be afraid of Watch,” she said. “He’s a very gentle dog. He would never bite anybody.”

“I bet he would, though,” said the boy, “if anyone tried to hurt you kids.”

He went quickly down the street and Watch still growled. No one had time to say anything more to the boy.

“Now that is very funny,” said Benny. “Watch did bark just exactly as he does at night. I bet that Cook boy
is
the one who is cooking seaweed.”

Jessie laughed. “You said once that somebody was cooking up something. And it turned out to be true. It’s the
Cook boy!”

“Now I’m sure of it,” said Henry quietly. “There aren’t very many people in Conley who would be smart enough or interested enough to make those figures on that squared paper. The question is, what is he trying to do? And how does a woman fit into the puzzle?”

“Well, we can’t do anything about it now,” said Benny. “Let’s go on with our picnic.”

“Is this picnic going to be lunch or supper, Violet?”

“Oh, lunch! We couldn’t wait for supper, now we are all set.”

The Aldens went down on the beach and picked up dry sticks of all sizes. Henry and Benny made a fireplace of stones. They put the sticks in the hole with papers and dry seaweed.

“No danger of fire here on the sand,” said Henry. “We. have the whole ocean to put it out.”

At last the fire burned down to hot coals. It was hard to wait, but they did.

Jessie gave Benny a long straight fork to cook his frankfurter on. He stuck the frankfurter on the end and put it over the fire. He had no sooner done this than the frankfurter slipped off.

“Look at your frankfurter, Ben!” cried Henry. “It’s in the fire!”

“Oh, so it is,” cried Benny. He stuck his fork in again and lifted it out. The frankfurter was burning on one side.

“I like it burned,” he said. He blew out the fire.

“But not burned up,” said Mr. Alden, laughing. As he spoke, plop! went the frankfurter again.

“Do you want me to help you, Benny?” asked Jessie laughing, too.

“No, indeed! Thank you! If I can’t cook a frankfurter, I’m a monkey.”

“Well, I guess you’re a monkey then,” teased Henry, “for there goes your frankfurter.”

Benny picked it up again. “You stay on!” he said to the frankfurter.

“Watch out, Ben! Ooops! There she goes!” cried Henry. He couldn’t help laughing. The poor frankfurter was black all over.

This time just as Benny was putting it on the fork it slipped off again—swoosh!

“This time I’ll hold my fork the other way,” said Benny. His face was red with the hot fire. “I guess I can eat my own cooking.”

He put the frankfurter into a roll and began to eat it. “Delicious!” he said, chewing happily.

“Please don’t eat it, Ben,” Henry begged. “You can have another and maybe it won’t slip off. You can put it on our grill this time.”

“No,” said Benny. “No grill for me. I have to put it on a long fork. That’s the way to cook a frankfurter.”

“What does it taste like, Ben?” asked Henry, laughing.

“Coal,” said Benny. “Delicious coal.”

“Maybe charcoal,” said Violet. “That’s what it really is. I hope you’ll try another one and have a decent lunch.”

Benny was standing up on a rock eating brownies. He looked toward the street. There was the Cook boy going past.

“Hi!” shouted Benny. “Hello!”

The boy did answer. It was a very gruff hello. Then he went along.

Henry said thoughtfully, “It might be that he’s more afraid than cross—afraid someone will stop his secret work.”

Benny jumped down. “You know I think that Cook boy would like to come and eat with us. But he would never do it. I saw his face before he saw me. He looked as if he wished he could eat at our picnic.”

“Very likely you are right,” said Mr. Alden. “Maybe you can get to be friends little by little.”

But as it turned out, something happened suddenly—not little by little.

H
enry went to the store to get the paper. He nearly bumped into the Cook boy coming out. The angry look on his face kept Henry from even trying to say hello.

“What’s up now?” Henry wondered. Then he forgot about the boy because a sign on the store door said:

VILLAGE SUPPER. JULY
25
TH
.

Henry said to Mr. Hall, “What’s this supper on the twenty-fifth?”

Mr. Hall sat down and said, “Oh, every July this village has a chowder supper outdoors. Everybody in town comes. We have chowder and baked beans, hot rolls and coffee, pies and cakes. It costs one dollar.”

“It sounds good,” said Hendry. “Can anybody come?”

“Oh, yes. We want all the money we can get. We are trying to put in street lights. This year I think we will do it. All the tickets will be sold in one day. Everybody wants to come.”

“I had better buy five tickets now,” said Henry. “My family will all love to come.”

“Here you are,” said Mr. Hall. He gave Henry five tickets. “I’ll tell you something else, too. You’ll be surprised. Guess who makes the chowder and coffee and baked beans? Larry Cook! You see he isn’t all bad. He does this every year. He loves to cook.”

“Imagine that,” said Henry. “I wouldn’t think it.”

“No, that Larry Cook is a surprise in many ways.”

“Well, so he is,” said Henry, thinking. “I met him as I came into the store. He seemed crosser than ever.”

“Want to know why?” asked Mr. Hall. “Every year two summer people come up and help him. This year they sent word they can’t come. That’s why Larry is crosser than ever. He can’t do this alone with such a big crowd. Everybody else is busy making pies.”

“I wonder if we could help him?” said Henry. “We would do just as he said. Maybe that would cheer him up.”

“I’m sure it would. Your family would be a big help.”

Henry went home with the tickets and the paper and the news. Everyone wanted to help Larry.

“I think Mr. Hall will tell him what I said,” said Henry. “But if we meet him, we’ll tell him, too.”

“I heard something new about Larry’s father,” said Benny. “He is night watchman sometimes at the shipyard. So off and on he is busy all night. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t know his boat is gone.”

Later that day the Aldens walked over to the dock. They met Larry. He went by them with a gruff hello.

Benny said, “Wait a minute, Larry. Would you like some help with your supper? We can peel onions and potatoes, and we all know how to get clams out of the shells.”

“Do you?” asked Larry. He almost smiled. “There will sure be a lot of clams. I can’t do it alone.”

“Then we can help?” asked Benny.

“Yes, I’d be glad of your help,” said Larry.

“Grandfather will help, too,” said Jessie. “He is fine at getting out clams.”

“Well, well!” said Larry. “I never thought Mr. Alden would be working for me, that’s sure. You come around at nine Saturday morning, and we’ll all get to work.”

When Saturday came, the five Aldens went to meet Larry behind the store. There was a big field there, with a place for cooking and a tent for shelter. Other men had set up the long tables and chairs.

Larry had five chairs ready. The Aldens sat down and started to peel potatoes.

Larry said, “We’ll get through quicker this year with six workers. I always had three.”

When the onions came around, Larry had big pails of water. “Peel the onions under water,” he said. “If you don’t, you will cry and not be able to see.”

It was a fine idea, for there were many onions.

Next Larry and the Aldens got the clams out of their shells. They had piles and piles of clams.

“You should see this crowd eat,” said Larry. “We have to have baked beans, too. Chowder isn’t enough.”

The beans were all baked ahead of time.

Henry said, “Too bad we can’t get more food from the ocean.” But if Larry heard him, he kept quiet.

At five o’clock the people began to come. It certainly looked as if everyone in town was there. Jessie had made paper caps for the family, to show that they were waiters. Other people helped, too.

Larry was a different boy. He smiled at everyone. He could hardly believe it when he saw Grandfather waiting on table in a paper hat.

One tall man was a summer visitor, just going through the town. He called Benny and said, “Sonny, ask the cook how he makes baked beans.”