Outer Space Mystery (6 page)

“You just might,” said Mark.

“Did you finish your paper?” Jessie asked.

He tapped his folder. “In the nick of time.”

As Eugene Scott walked toward them, Mark smiled at him. “Well, tomorrow is our big day. Good luck, Eugene.” He stuck out his hand.

Eugene stared at Mark’s outstretched hand. Reluctantly, he shook it. “Same to you,” he said brusquely. He left without saying good night.

“He certainly isn’t very nice,” Jessie remarked.

Mark merely shrugged. “Some guys are like that. They’re afraid somebody will steal their work or make a bigger discovery. I believe we should all work together for the good of science.”

Henry admired Mark’s attitude. “I think I’d like to be an astronomer,” he said. “When you look through the telescope, you could see something nobody’s ever seen before!”

“That’s right,” Mark agreed. “The possibilities are endless. You’d be good at astronomy, Henry, but it takes a lot of patience.”

“What about me?” asked Benny. “Would I be good at it, too?”

Mark said with a laugh, “You’d be good at anything you set your mind to, Benny Alden!”

Benny puffed his chest proudly. “You hear that? I’d be good at anything!”

“Except going to bed,” Grandfather said as he came up behind them, smiling. “I’ve been delayed, so you children go ahead to your rooms.”

“I’ll walk them down the mountain,” Mark offered.

“I’d appreciate it,” said Grandfather. “I’ll see you all in the morning. Bright and early — it’s the last day of the conference. And you all have a job!”

By now the rest of the spectators had left the observatory.

Mark led the way out the door. As he opened it, he dropped his folder. Papers scattered across the floor.

The children bent to help pick them up.

“Thanks,” Mark said, stuffing the papers back into the folder. “I’ll sort them out when I’m in my room.”

Henry gave him the last sheet. “This one’s blank,” he said. “I guess it’s an extra piece of paper.”

Mark held the paper into the light, frowning. “I don’t think I put any extra paper in here — just my document.”

Quickly he spread the other sheets on the floor.

“They’re all blank.” Violet gasped. “What happened to your paper?”

Mark looked thunderstruck. He was speechless.

“Maybe you picked up the wrong folder,” Jessie suggested. “Randy probably has a lot of folders on his desk. Let’s go back and look.”

They dashed back into the empty observatory. Mark flicked on the light switch.

But Randy’s desk was neat. Only the sign-in logbook was centered on the blotter.

Henry checked around the desk, in case Mark’s folder had slipped behind. He found nothing.

Mark moaned. “My work!”

“Maybe it was an accident,” Violet offered. “There were a lot of people here tonight — someone could have put another folder on the desk and picked up yours by mistake.”

But even as she said the words, she didn’t believe it.

“Somebody must have stolen your paper,” Benny said direly.

Mark nodded, like someone in a trance. “I’m afraid you’re right, Benny. Someone stole my paper.”

“But why?” asked Jessie. “Who could have done such an awful thing?”

“It could have been anyone,” said Henry. “People were walking in and out all evening.”

“The invitation wasn’t just for the college,” Mark said. “People from the town were here, too.”

Jessie examined the stack of blank sheets in Mark’s folder. “One thing is for sure,” she said. “The crime was planned ahead of time.”

Henry nodded in agreement. “The person was smart enough to bring blank paper to the observatory tonight. So he — or she — could leave it in Mark’s folder as a substitute.”

Mark’s face crumpled with despair. “My notes were in that folder, too. My whole discovery is lost!”

T
he next morning, the Aldens reported to the dining room a half hour before the breakfast crowd.

Hazel Watson was waiting for them. “Good morning,” she greeted. “I’m so thankful you children are pitching in.”

“We’re glad to help out,” said Jessie.

Hazel handed the three older children aprons. A special pocket stitched on the front contained a small notepad and pencil. “Your uniforms,” she said.

“Where’s my uniform?” Benny asked.

“Remember? You and I are going to roll silverware in napkins. Let’s see who can roll the most.”

“Me!” said Benny.

A tray was pushed through the window that divided the kitchen and the dining room.

“Here are your breakfasts,” Hazel told them. “Eat up, before the rush comes.”

The children sat down and dug into bacon and eggs. While they ate, Hazel instructed the new servers.

“A pot of coffee and a pitcher of juice is on each table. Menu cards are already by each place. There are only three meals a diner can choose.”

“Number one is the Mountaineer Breakfast,” Jessie said, reading a menu card. “Hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. So if a customer chose that, I’d write
Number 1
on my notepad.”

“Exactly!” Hazel said. “You will simply write down breakfast number one, two, or three.”

“How do we know when the food is ready?” Jessie asked.

“And whose order is whose?” Henry wanted to know.

Hazel shook her head in amazement. “You kids are pros! After writing each order, bring it to me. When the food is ready, I’ll call your name as the orders come up from the cook. The plates will already be on trays. Questions?”

“Yes,” said Benny. “Do we get extra food?”

Hazel laughed. “You can have all you want when this is over! Thank heavens this is the last day of the conference.” She held out her hand to him. “Let’s go roll silverware.”

The other three Aldens divided the dining room into sections.

“The tables have little flags with numbers,” Henry observed. “So when you write an order, be sure to write down the table number, too.”

By the time they had agreed on territories, it was eight o’clock. The first two diners entered the room.

They sat at table number fifteen, one of Violet’s. Nervously, Violet stepped up, order pad and pencil in hand.

“Our new waitress is very cute,” said a student with a wink. Violet giggled. “I’ll have breakfast number one.” Violet wrote down
Number 1
very carefully.

His companion reached for the coffeepot. “I’ll have the same. We heard Rachel’s okay. Did she say when she was coming back?”

“No,” Violet replied. “But we hope it’s soon.” Then she remembered to write
15
at the top of her order slip. Wouldn’t it be awful if her customers’ meals went to the wrong table?

Soon the trickle of diners turned into a regular stream. Henry, Jessie, and Violet scurried around, taking orders and delivering meals.

Violet was delighted that she got to serve Grandfather and Dr. Porter. Grandfather seemed proud of her.

One of Jessie’s last customers was Mark Jacobs. He didn’t want anything to eat, only juice and coffee.

“Mark looks terrible,” Jessie commented to Henry as they passed each other. “As if he’s been up all night.”

“He’s so upset about losing his paper,” Henry said. “It was his big chance.”

Mark gulped the rest of his juice, then left. Jessie wished she could help him.

Eugene Scott was the last diner to straggle in. Though he was dressed nicely in a jacket and tie, the student’s eyes were dark-circled. He sat down at one of Henry’s tables and wearily rested his head on his arms.

Henry went over to the table. “Excuse me, Eugene. Are you having breakfast?”

“What?” Eugene looked around blearily. “Oh, yeah.” He glanced at the menu. “Give me number three.”

As Henry hurried off with the order, he passed Violet and Jessie. With the rush over, the pace had slowed. The girls were leaning against an empty table near the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with Eugene?” Jessie asked. “He looks just as tired as Mark.”

“He seems beat,” Henry agreed. “But I can’t figure out why.
His
paper wasn’t stolen.”

“That’s right,” Violet said. “In fact, all Eugene does is brag about his discovery. He doesn’t seem very excited, though.”

When Henry left to deliver the order, Jessie kept an eye on Eugene’s table.

First Eugene poured a cup of coffee. Then he pulled a pale blue packet from his jacket pocket. He unwrapped a small object and popped it in his mouth. He left the wrapper on the place mat.

Jessie grabbed Henry as he came by with Eugene’s breakfast.

“See that piece of blue paper on his place mat?” she exclaimed. “I think it’s a clue! Get it!”

With a nod, Henry went into action. He skillfully slid the plate of French toast in front of Eugene, while palming the scrap of paper. Then he left Eugene’s table.

“Let’s see it!” Benny said. He had finished rolling silverware. When he joined the girls, Jessie told him about Henry’s secret mission.

Henry smoothed the small square. “It’s a mint wrapper, not a gum wrapper! I wonder why he’d eat a mint before his meal instead of after.”

“I don’t know, but it’s the same paper we found in our room!” Benny said.

“And the one Jessie found in the cabin,” Violet added.

“The intruder ate mints,” Jessie concluded. “Rachel chews gum, so it wasn’t her. It was Eugene Scott!”

“But why did Eugene break into our room?” Benny wondered. “What was he looking for?”

“Something’s wrong,” Henry said, watching his customer. “He’s hardly touched a thing on his plate.”

Glancing around, Eugene dumped his French toast and sausage links in his napkin. He crammed it into his jacket and stood up to leave.

“What’s he doing?” Benny asked.

Henry knew instantly. “He’s smuggling food.”

“To eat later?” Violet wondered. “As a snack?”

“He’s taking that food
to
somebody,” Jessie declared.

“We have to follow him,” Henry said, shedding his apron.

“But we can’t leave,” Violet pointed out. “We’re still on duty.”

Hazel Watson came over just then.

“I believe that’s the last of the breakfast crowd,” she said with a relieved sigh.
“Y
ou children did a fine job. I’ve heard nothing but compliments about our new serving staff!”

Jessie was untying her apron. “It was fun. Can we go now?” She noticed Eugene Scott through the window. If they hurried, they would still be able to follow him.

“Yes, you may,” replied Hazel. “But there are lots of leftovers. You must be starved after all that work.”

“No, thanks!” Benny said, practically running out the door. Right now, solving a mystery was more important than a blueberry muffin.

Once outside, the children looked in every direction. Eugene was nowhere in sight. He could have taken any of the trails that wound through the campus or up the mountain.

“We’re too late!” Violet wailed. “We’ve lost him!”

Henry spotted another pale blue wrapper in the driveway at the base of one of the stone pillars.

“No, we haven’t lost him! He left us a sign. This way!”

“I bet he took the secret trail!” Jessie said excitedly.

This time the children quickly spotted the faint trail that branched off the driveway.

“Doesn’t that branch look broken?” Benny asked, pointing to a drooping tree limb on the right-hand path. “I bet Eugene did it.”

“But we’ve been on this trail,” Violet pointed out. “It could have been one of us.”

“No, Benny’s right,” Henry said. “That’s a fresh break. And the branch is pretty high. None of us is that tall. But Eugene is.”

“Good detective work, Benny,” Jessie praised.

Soon they saw more snapped branches and stripped leaves. Despite the thick foliage and stinging insects, the Aldens hurried down the twisting path and into the glen.

The cabin door stood half open. Voices raised in argument filtered into the clearing.

“Stay back,” Henry cautioned the others.

The children hid behind an oak tree and waited. After a few minutes, Eugene Scott appeared, carrying a folder. He stomped out of the cabin, rudely slamming the door behind him.

Muttering to himself, he found the footpath and quickly disappeared into the dense underbrush.