Mystery of the Sassafras Chair (15 page)

Wiley's voice faded, but Timor hardly needed it now. The invisible string was suddenly tugging at him, and the witch hazel fork was slowly twisting in his hands, pointing at a downward angle. Timor drew a long breath finally, and closed his eyes. He felt ready to drop.

Colonel Hamilton hurried up to him. “Don't give up, son. I—I'm a little late, but I'm betting on you.”

“It's all right, Uncle Ira,” he said weakly. “I think you're standing right on it.”

Shovels were brought. Eager hands dug. Ten inches down, a slightly battered but still-intact enameled tin box was unearthed and carefully removed to preserve its telltale fingerprints.

Late that night, when the valley had gone to rest after the excitement of the day, Timor awoke to the sound of his name. He sat up, and instantly forgot his weariness. Over in its corner the sassafras chair was glowing brightly, and old Wiley, eyes happy and intent upon him, sat waiting expectantly.

“Hated to wake you, Timmy, but, well, I—”

Timor swallowed. “Don't tell me your time's up already!”

“Yep. A couple more minutes, an' I gotta be goin'.”

“D-do you
have
to go?”

“By Dooley, Timmy, a bargain's a bargain. But pshaw, don't worry about my glory crown.” Wiley grinned. “A feller with my reputation, why, I never had one comin' in the first place.”

“I wouldn't be too sure about that. Your reputation has certainly changed lately. Couldn't you manage to—to come back once in a while?”

“That ain't for me to say. The thing is, Timmy, d'you reckon you can get along a mite better from now on? I mean, I know how it's been with you, comin' to a strange place like America an' all, an' havin' to live with your uncle …”

“Oh, I don't think Uncle Ira and I will ever have any more trouble. We—we've sort of got to know each other. And now that I have friends like Nathaniel and Mrs. Casey …”

“That's good. Never judge the woods by the weasels in it. Well, Timmy, I gotta skedaddle. I won't say good-by. Just keep your fingers crossed, 'cause you never can tell …”

The chair lost its brightness as Wiley vanished, but its soft glow remained. Timor looked at it a long time before he went back to sleep, finding its glow vastly comforting.

The sassafras chair still glows—though maybe this is only because of the golden wood,
so
carefully polished by an understanding hand. And maybe all that happened could have happened without the chair, as certain people insist upon saying. Maybe. But those in the high mountains know better. And so does Timor. There
is
a magic in certain woods, and a very special kind of magic in sassafras.

About the Author

Alexander Key (1904–1979) started out as an illustrator before he began writing science fiction novels for young readers. He has published many titles, including
Sprockets
:
A Little Robot, Mystery of the Sassafras Chair
, and
The Forgotten Door
, winner of the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award. Key's novel
Escape to Witch Mountain
was adapted for film in 1975, 1995, and 2009.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1975 by Alexander Key

Cover design by Jesse Hayes

ISBN: 978-1-4976-5255-2

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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EBOOKS BY ALEXANDER KEY

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