The rest of the way back to the motel, the children figured out a plan. They would go alone into Tincup, just before sunset, and track down the Lady in Gray. This time she wouldn’t get away.
“I’m nervous,” Violet admitted. She couldn’t forget the sight of the yellowed, wrinkled face she had seen leering through the slatted door.
“Me, too,” Henry said. “The ghost is very lifelike. But we know it isn’t real.”
Jessie nodded in agreement. “We have to catch her — or him. It’s the only way to find out what’s going on here. If Grandfather decides to sell the land to Victor Lacey he could be making a big mistake. We have to do this for Grandfather.”
“What will we do with the ghost when we catch it?” Benny asked, his eyes round. A ghost hunt sounded neat, but he was also frightened.
“It’ll be okay,” Violet reassured her little brother.
“We’re the Aldens and we make a great team!” said Jessie, sounding like a cheerleader. “Let some old ghost try to get away from us!”
Benny giggled, feeling better.
At Eagles Nest, they found Grandfather and Mr. Lacey in deep conversation in the sitting area of the dining hall. Lunch was about to be served.
Grandfather waved them over. “Mr. Lacey and I have been talking about the land. I’m wondering if anyone will ever visit there. Or if we’ll really use it. I’m thinking of selling it to Mr. Lacey.”
Benny stared at Grandfather, his hunger forgotten. “You’re going to sell the town? How can I be mayor and fire chief and police chief?”
“Oh, Benny,” Mr. Lacey said enticingly. “You don’t want to be in charge of a rundown old town.”
“Lunch!” Mrs. Harrington called to the guests.
Jessie was amazed to see Corey Browne carry a huge bowl of soup from the kitchen. Marianne followed him with a large basket of bread. He looked at her as he set down the bowl, spilling the soup a little. Jessie could tell Corey was head over heels for Marianne Harrington. And for once, she wasn’t acting like she couldn’t stand him. Did Corey finally win her over?
Jessie dipped her spoon into her soup. Yuck. It was like dishwater with a few soggy carrots floating around. She broke off a hunk of stale bread to dunk in the thin soup. Like Benny, she was tired of the awful food.
“Excellent soup!” Victor praised Mrs. Harrington, scraping his bowl. “I’ll have seconds, if you have enough.”
“Oh, there’s plenty,” said Mrs. Harrington. “By the way, dinner will be late tonight. The power is off again.”
Violet noticed a mysterious glance pass between Victor Lacey and the owner as she ladled more watery soup into his bowl. Something strange was going on, but she didn’t have time to think about it now.
“Grandfather,” she announced. “Is it okay if we go down to Tincup? We know the way. And it’s not that far to walk. We’ve gotten pretty used to hiking.”
“We’ll be careful,” added Henry. “We won’t go into any of the buildings. We just want to walk through the town.”
He crossed his fingers under the table. This was an important part of their plan. Everyone in Eagles Nest had to know they were going to Tincup. And Grandfather had to give his permission.
“Well ... ” James Alden hesitated. “You are responsible children. I trust you. If you leave early and promise to be back well before dark, it’ll be fine.”
“We will,” said Benny. The first part of their plan had worked!
The children prepared for the hike immediately after lunch. Jessie packed snacks and bottles of water that Grandfather had brought back from his second trip to Beaverton.
“We can eat on the way,” she told the others. “That soup wouldn’t give a chipmunk strength.”
As they walked behind the dining hall, they noticed the gray metal panel was hanging open.
“The fuse box!” exclaimed Henry. He looked inside. Sure enough, one of the fuses was missing. “I bet that goes to the electricity.”
“Now we know Mrs. Harrington turns off the phones and power on purpose,” said Benny.
“We’d better hurry,” Violet said. “We don’t have the Jeep to ride in and we must be in Tincup by sunset.”
Although that seemed like a lot of time, lunch had been late and they had to pack for the hike. It was after two-thirty when the Aldens set off on the potholed road.
The day was clear but very warm. Before they had walked far, the children were glad Jessie had told them to put on short-sleeved T-shirts and shorts. Stout walking shoes prevented twisted ankles and sore feet.
Soon they were panting as they climbed the steep mountain.
“I wish we had the Jeep,” Jessie said. “It was bouncy, but it got us to the trail a lot quicker!”
“I like walking,” Benny said. As always, he had the most energy. “You can see the plants and birds this way.”
Jessie checked her watch. Almost three-thirty. They had been walking for nearly an hour and they hadn’t reached the end of the road yet. She had forgotten how long the road was.
Suddenly Violet stumbled and cracked her knee on a rock.
“It’s nothing,” she told Henry, who gently felt the swelling.
“You might get a bruise,” he said. “Maybe we should stop. Walking on it could make it worse.”
“I’m okay,” Violet insisted. Her knee hurt only a little. She couldn’t let the others and Grandfather down.
“Are you sure?” asked Jessie, concerned. Of them all, Violet tended to be the most quiet.
Violet smiled gamely. “Positive.”
The children slowed their pace so Violet could keep up. It was after five when they reached the end of the potholed road.
“Here’s the old wagon trail,” Benny said.
It took them another thirty minutes to walk down the twisting road. By now, Violet’s knee had stopped hurting, but they still took it easy.
When they reached Tincup, the children stared at one another. As bravely as they had talked on the hike, their fears were back.
“We’re all scared,” Jessie said. “But this is for Grandfather, If he doesn’t know the truth, he could be making a mistake. And we owe it to Gert to save the land.”
“Jessie’s right,” said Violet. She drew in a deep breath. “The sun is nearly over the canyon. Let’s go catch the ghost.”
“It’s not a real ghost,” Henry said firmly. But he was as nervous as the others. Saying there were no ghosts and seeing one were two different things.
Together, the Aldens entered the silent ghost town. The wind had risen again, kicking tumbleweeds ahead of them. A loose shingle shrieked.
They decided to wait for full sunset by the dance hall, where Violet had seen the old crone’s face.
The sun dropped in a lazy arc till it touched the craggy ledge of the canyon.
And then they saw her.
She appeared from nowhere, gliding into the dusty street in her tattered gray dress, the gray shawl draped about her shoulders.
The Aldens stood rooted for a few seconds. Then Henry shouted, “Okay, guys. Let’s move!”
They ran then, with Jessie in the lead.
Jessie stared at the figure ahead of her. The Lady in Gray didn’t speed up or act as if she heard pounding feet behind her.
But Jessie didn’t see any shoes sticking out from under the hem of the gray dress. Was this Rose Payne, walking toward the sunset to meet her husband as she’d done for so many years? But she couldn’t let such thoughts take over. She had to catch this ghost.
Sprinting, Jessie pulled away from the others. She was beside the Lady in Gray now. The figure turned her face sharply away from Jessie.
Swallowing her fear, Jessie grabbed one thin arm and yanked the figure around.
Amazed, she gasped at the yellowed, wrinkled face surrounded by wisps of scraggly gray hair. The yellowed hand Jessie grasped felt horrible, but she didn’t let go.
Instead she reached up and pulled off the gray wig. The yellowed crone mask came off with it.
She found herself staring into the startled blue eyes of Marianne Harrington.
“You!” Jessie accused. “You’re the ghost!”
The others ran up.
“It’s Marianne!” Violet said. “She’s the Lady in Gray!”
Pulling off the fake rubber hands, Marianne began to cry.
At that moment, Victor Lacey blasted through the rickety swinging doors of the dance hall.
“All right, you kids!” he said menacingly. “I knew you were trouble the minute I laid eyes on you. Now I’ll have to fix you but good!”
Before the children had a chance to be frightened by his threat, a second voice boomed from the dry goods store.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort, you little weasel!”
Benny hopped up and down. “It’s Gert!”
It was indeed Old Gert. She loomed in the center of the road, her booted feet spread wide apart. No one was going anywhere without dealing with her.
“You leave these children alone,” she told Victor. “The jig is up. I’m on to your little game.”
“So are we,” said Henry. “But we needed to bring the ‘ghost’ out in the open first.”
Suddenly Violet figured out the missing piece that had been bothering her. They were on the wrong track! Marianne Harrington wasn’t the descendant of Rose and Duncan Payne.
Old Gert was! |