Boxcar Children 54 - Hurricane Mystery (2 page)

“It might not be,” said Violet. “And we are good at finding things and solving mysteries. Aren’t we, Grandfather?”

“That’s true,” said Mr. Alden.

“Well, it can’t hurt to look,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “And you’ll get a chance to explore the island. It’s a small island. You can’t get lost, and everybody is very friendly.”

The Aldens thanked Mrs. Ashleigh for their lemonade and cookies. Then they hurried out of the house to begin to search for the Pirate’s Gate.

Blue skies arched overhead. The sun shone bright and clear and warm. Everywhere they looked, they saw people cleaning up the mess the hurricane left behind. Some people carried trees and branches and debris to big piles at the edge of the street. Others hammered and sawed and nailed, taking the boards off windows and replacing broken glass. People waved at the children as they walked by.

Seeing all the things the hurricane had blown away, Jessie shook her head. “I’m afraid Mrs. Ashleigh is right. That gate could be at the bottom of the ocean by now.”

“Oh, no, it’s not,” said Benny. He pointed. “Look,” he said. “There it is!”

Two women were dragging a gate across the front yard of a house that looked newer and fancier than many of the other houses they’d seen on the island. The gate they were dragging was big and made of iron shaped into bars and scrolls. And it had a ship made of iron set right in the middle of it!

“Careful!” they heard the shorter of the two women say. She was thin and had short black hair that curled around her pale face. She struggled with the heavy gate. Her khaki pants and ivory-colored sandals were spattered with mud, but she didn’t seem to care. “We don’t want to damage this any more than the hurricane has!”

“Don’t worry, Jackie, I won’t drop it,” panted the taller of the two women. She was wearing jeans and work boots that were also muddy. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a bandanna. She had freckles sprinkled across her sunburned nose.

“When I say go, lift the gate into the back of my van,” said the first woman. “Ready, set, go!”

The two women lifted the gate in the air and set it down gently on an old blanket. The shorter woman closed the van. “Thanks, Diana,” she said. “I appreciate your help.” She took keys from her pocket and walked quickly toward the driver’s side,

The Aldens exchanged glances. What was this woman going to do with Mrs. Ashleigh’s gate?

“Stop!” shouted Henry. “That’s the Pirate’s Gate. It doesn’t belong to you!”

T
he shorter woman spun around and dropped her car keys.

The taller woman put her hands on her hips. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“I’m Henry Alden. These are my sisters, Jessie and Violet, my brother, Benny, and our dog, Watch.” He pointed. “And that is Mrs. Ashleigh’s gate.”

“How do you know that?” asked the shorter woman.

Now Jessie put her hands on her own hips. “Mrs. Ashleigh told us,” she said.

The shorter woman, who’d bent over to pick up her car keys, straightened up. Red spots of color flushed her pale cheeks. “For that matter, how do you know Mrs. Ashleigh?” she asked.

“Our grandfather is a friend of hers,” said Jessie. “We came all the way from Greenfield to help her clean and fix up her house. She told us about the hurricane blowing her gate away.”

The taller woman suddenly laughed. “You know, I thought that gate looked familiar, didn’t you, Jackie?” To the Aldens, she said, “The hurricane dropped it in Jackie’s backyard. I was helping her put it in the truck.”

“To take to Ellen Ashleigh,” said Jackie. “I told you that, didn’t I, Diana?”

“Did you?” Diana scratched her head. “I’ve had so much carpenter work to do lately, since the hurricane, that I feel as if I have a hurricane blowing my thoughts around.” She stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m Diana Shelby. I’m a neighbor of Mrs. Ashleigh’s.”

“Me, too,” said Jackie. “I’m Jacqueline James. Everybody calls me Jackie. Sorry if I was a little suspicious. But after a hurricane, all kinds of characters arrive to try to take advantage of people. I guess we’d better hurry and get this gate back to Ellen.”

“Do you need me to help you take it out of the van?” asked Diana.

“We’ll help,” volunteered Henry.

“Fine,” said Diana. “I’d better be getting to my next job. A man at the other end of the island had all the doors blown off his house. I’ve got to put some new ones up for him.” Diana walked over to a battered pickup truck and got in and drove quickly away.

“Why don’t I give y’all a ride back to Mrs. Ashleigh’s?” suggested Jackie.

The Aldens thought this was a very good idea.

“I’ll go the long way around,” Jackie said. “That way, you can see some more of the island.” She drove them down the quiet streets, waving at people as she passed. “Out there is the lighthouse,” she said. She pointed. “And over there is the library.”

“The Edgar Allan Poe library,” said Jessie.

“Yes!” answered Jackie, looking surprised that Jessie knew that.

“We solved a mystery in a library once,” said Henry.

“A
deserted
library,” added Benny. In a few minutes they’d reached Mrs. Ashleigh’s house. Benny bounced out of the van and ran toward the house shouting, “Mrs. Ashleigh, Mrs. Ashleigh! Come here quickly! We’ve found your gate.”

The door opened and Mrs. Ashleigh and Grandfather Alden hurried out. Grandfather was still holding his glass of lemonade.

“Ellen!” cried Jackie, climbing out of the van. She walked around to the back of the van and opened it. With a sweep of her arm she said, “Look what the hurricane left in my backyard!”

Mrs. Ashleigh’s eyes widened.  She put one hand up to her mouth and walked slowly forward. “It can’t be,” she said. “I don’t believe it!”

“It is,” said Jessie. “See, I told you we were good at finding things.”

Violet said, “We’ve only been here for a few hours, and we’ve already solved a mystery!”

“You certainly have, Violet. The Pirate’s Gate,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “I never thought I’d see it again.”

“The Aldens found me loading it into my van to bring back to you,” Jackie explained. “Naturally I recognized it right away. I was very careful with it, but I’m afraid the hurricane did some damage.”

“That can be fixed,” said Mrs. Ashleigh, patting the gate as if it were alive. “Oh, I’m so glad to see it again.”

With the help of the Aldens, Jackie lifted the gate out of the van and carried it to the edge of the house. She propped it against the front porch.

“Won’t you come in and have some lemonade?” Mrs. Ashleigh asked Jackie. But Jackie shook her head and smiled. “I have to go. I have a business to run — we’re not as busy as we should be, but there are a few tourists who still come to Charleston looking for a carriage ride!” She turned to the Aldens and said, “When you get a chance, come into town. I’ll give you a tour in an old-fashioned horse and carriage, compliments of Hoofbeats of History. That’s the name of my guide business.”

“Horses?” said Benny. “I’d like that.”

Mrs. Ashleigh said, “Thank you again, Jackie. Now I’m going to go call William Farrier. He’s done ironwork for me before.”

“Of course! He’s the very man to fix your gate,” said Jackie. She said good-bye and left.

“Wow,” said Jessie as the Aldens went back into the house with Mrs. Ashleigh and Grandfather. “Wouldn’t that be fun, to drive a horse and carriage and give tours to people?”

“I’d like that,” agreed Henry.

“Me, too,” said Benny. “Second, after being a pirate.”

“Who’s William Farrier?” asked Violet.

“I think you all would like his job, too,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “He started out as a blacksmith, but now he’s a famous craftsman and artist. He works in wrought and cast iron. When you go to Charleston you’ll see lots of lovely iron gates and balconies and fences. Some are as old as the Pirate’s Gate and some are new, designed and made by people like Mr. Farrier.”

While they were waiting for Mr. Farrier to arrive, the Aldens helped Mrs. Ashleigh take some of the furniture that had been moved upstairs, back downstairs into the rooms that had been cleaned out and repainted. Since they were the biggest and strongest, Grandfather and Henry moved the biggest pieces of furniture: a desk, some bookshelves, and some tables. Violet and Benny carried lamps down. Jessie and Mrs. Ashleigh unrolled the rugs on the floors.

Jessie had just begun to help Mrs. Ashleigh bring down boxes of books for the study shelves when someone knocked on the front door.

A short, strong-looking man with powerful hands and a small pair of gold wire-rim glasses perched on the end of his nose stood there. He was wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was carrying a toolbox.

“Mr. Farrier! I’m so glad you could come,” said Mrs. Ashleigh.

“I’ve met the Pirate’s Gate before,” said Mr. Farrier, his brown eyes twinkling behind his glasses. He nodded toward where the gate was propped against the house. “I look forward to a chance to work on it.”

Mrs. Ashleigh and the Aldens followed Mr. Farrier as he went to look at the gate. “Can it be fixed?” Mrs. Ashleigh asked anxiously.

“I don’t believe the hurricane did any damage that I can’t put right,” said Mr. Farrier. “But it’s a very old gate, so I can’t say for sure. I’d like to take it back to my shop to work on it there.”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Ashleigh.

“I’ll just do a little work on these hinges first,” said Mr. Farrier. “They didn’t get too banged up. I’ll be finished in no time.”

After Mr. Farrier had fixed the hinges on the iron fence where the gate had hung, the Aldens once again helped carry the gate across the front yard, this time to load onto Mr. Farrier’s red truck. “I’ll let you know in a day or two about the gate,” said Mr. Farrier.

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Ashleigh.

“Can we come watch you shoe horses?” asked Benny.

“Well, I don’t shoe horses much anymore,” said Mr. Farrier with a slow smile. “But you can visit me at my shop, Farrier’s Studio. It’s right down in Charleston. Anybody can tell you where it is.”

“Oh, good,” said Jessie. “Thank you.”

The Aldens went back to work. All the rest of the day they moved furniture, shelved books, and helped Mrs. Ashleigh clean up around the house. By dinnertime, all the books were back on the study shelves, and when Jessie turned on the desk lamp, the room had a cozy glow.

“It is exactly the way it was before the hurricane,” said Mrs. Ashleigh, looking pleased.

Just then Henry staggered through the door with a huge box in his arms. “There are five more of these upstairs,” he said.

“Woof!” said Watch, jumping up to say hello to Henry.

“Look out!” cried Jessie. But it was too late. Henry lost his balance and dropped the box.

Violet covered her ears.

Watch scampered quickly out of the way.

The top of the box came off. Files spilled out and paper flew everywhere!

U
h-oh!” said Henry.

“We’ll help you clean it up,” said Violet.

“Don’t worry,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. She walked quickly to the overturned box. “But be careful! Some of these papers are very, very old.”

Benny knelt down by the box. “Look,” he said. “A picture!”

“That’s Mr. Fitzhugh,” said Mrs. Ashleigh.

“The pirate!” Benny gasped, his eyes round.

“Maybe so,” Mrs. Ashleigh answered. “We can just put the papers back in the box. I have to go through them anyway.”

“Look at this,” said Jessie.

“Is it a pirate’s map for treasure?” asked Benny excitedly.

Jessie laughed. “No, Benny. But it is a drawing of something.”

“The original plans for the house that Mr. Fitzhugh built in Charleston. And here are the original plans for the Pirate’s Gate. They all go in this envelope,” said Mrs. Ashleigh.

“These should be in a safe place,” said Henry.

Mrs. Ashleigh nodded. “I know. I’m going to go through them and give them to the local museum.”

“Does the museum have dinosaurs in it?” asked Benny. He was thinking about another mystery the Aldens had solved.

“No, Benny, it’s not that kind of museum,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “It’s a museum about Charleston.”