“What are you thinking, Violet?” Jessie asked.
“I have a hunch the next clue is right here in the house.”
“But, Violet,” Benny protested, “the arrow was pointing to the tree house. Remember?”
“That’s true, Benny,” Violet said. “But the name of the tree house is Little St. Ives. What if that’s the clue to follow?”
“What do you mean, Violet?” Jessie asked.
“Come and see!” Violet led the way to Fran’s workroom. After flipping on the light, she made a beeline for the framed verses on the wall. “This one is called A Little St. Ives Rhyme,” she said, pointing.
The others went to take a closer look. “What does it say?” Benny wanted to know. The youngest Alden was just learning to read.
Henry read aloud over Violet’s shoulder:
“As I was going to St. Ives
I met a man with seven wives,
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits,
Kits, cats, sacks, wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?”
“Hey, it’s a riddle!” cried Benny, his voice rising with excitement.
“And that’s not all,” added Violet. “There’s even a border of pressed buttercups around it.”
“The mysterious box was covered with buttercups, too,” Benny realized.
“I think you might be onto something, Violet.” Henry sounded just as excited as his brother.
“Yippee!” Benny let out a cheer. “We found the third riddle!”
“Sure looks that way,” agreed Henry.
“Way to go, Violet!” Jessie gave her sister an affectionate nudge.
“But … what’s the answer to this riddle?” Benny wondered. “There sure are a whole lot going to St. Ives.”
Jessie thought for a moment. “Well … seven wives … plus seven sacks … plus seven cats … plus — ”
“Hold on a minute, Jessie,” Henry interrupted. “It says every wife had seven sacks. That makes it seven wives and forty-nine sacks!”
Jessie nodded. “You’re right, Henry.”
“So how many does that make?” asked Benny.
Henry went over to Fran’s desk. He found a pad of paper and a pencil, then sat down to do some figuring. The others gathered around and waited quietly. Henry’s lips moved slightly as he added up the numbers. After a while, he looked up.
“One man, plus seven wives, plus forty-nine sacks, plus three-hundred-and-forty-three cats, plus two-thousand, four-hundred-and-one kits.” He looked around at his brother and sisters. “The grand total comes to two thousand, eight hundred and one.”
“Oops,” said Benny. “I think you left somebody out, Henry.”
Henry looked puzzled. “I did?” He checked his numbers again.
“You forgot the man — or woman — who met them!” Benny said.
Henry smiled at his little brother. “Good thinking, Benny,” he said. “So that makes it two thousand, eight hundred and two.”
“That’s our next clue?” Jessie couldn’t believe it.
“I guess we didn’t find the third riddle after all.” Violet sighed. “That one’s just silly. Looks like we’re on the wrong track again.”
“Never mind,” Henry said as they headed up the stairs to bed. “It was a good try.”
Benny, who was a few steps ahead, suddenly stopped and turned. “Hear that?” he whispered. His eyes were huge.
“Hear what, Benny?” asked Henry.
Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.
This time they all heard it. The sound seemed to be coming from outside. It would stop, only to start again a moment later.
“It’s Buttercup!” whispered Benny, sounding anxious.
Henry wasn’t having any of that. “We can’t be sure that was even a cowbell, Benny,” he said as he hurried back downstairs and into the living room. The others followed close behind. They all huddled around and peered out the window into the moonlit garden.
Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.
“Oh, that is a cowbell!” cried Violet. “And it’s the exact same clanging I heard last night!” She quickly told the others about the old cowbell at Roback’s Antique Shop.
“That made the same sound, too,” she said firmly.
“Even so, Violet,” Henry said after a moment’s thought, “that doesn’t mean there’s a ghost cow out there.”
“I asked Cora if stray cows ever wander into town,” Violet informed them. “She said she’s never heard of it.”
Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.
“Well, somebody’s ringing that bell,” Jessie pointed out.
“There’s only one way to find out who.” Henry squared his shoulders and headed out of the room. The other Aldens followed at his heels.
The four children opened and closed the front door behind them quietly. Henry and Jessie were in the lead as they started across the grass; Violet and Benny followed close behind. All of a sudden, Henry stopped so quickly that Jessie almost ran right into him.
Clang, clang. Clang, clang, clang.
“Uh-oh,” said Benny, backing up. His heart was pounding.
Henry pointed. Was that a shadow moving across the yard? “Who’s there?” he called out.
The shadowy figure disappeared into the inky darkness of the bushes. The Aldens ran into the bushes, too, but it was too late. It was almost as if the shadowy figure had vanished into thin air.
“I sure wish we had a flashlight,” Henry said, as he looked around.
“It’s too late now, Henry,” Violet told him breathlessly.
As they started back to the house, Benny moved closer to Jessie. She put a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Whoever was ringing that bell is long gone,” she assured him.
“Do you think anybody else heard the bell?” Benny wondered, as they had a late-night meeting in the room that Violet and Jessie were sharing.
“Maybe, Benny,” said Jessie, “but I doubt it. Fran said she was a sound sleeper.”
Henry nodded. “And Lottie seemed very tired.”
“I just can’t understand somebody pulling a prank like that.” Violet couldn’t stop shaking her head. “Who would do such a thing?”
Henry had a thought. “What about Nelson?” When he saw the look of surprise on everyone’s face, he added, “Maybe he thinks it’s the only way to get Fran to sell her house.”
“By convincing her that Shadowbox really is haunted?” Jessie shot her older brother a disbelieving glance. “By a cow?”
“It’s possible,” said Henry.
“I can’t imagine Nelson doing anything so awful to his mother,” argued Violet.
Jessie had an opinion about this. “Maybe he’s trying to scare us away.”
“That’s an interesting theory, Jessie,” said Henry. “But the only reason he would try to scare us is to keep us from solving the mystery.”
“Well, he wasn’t very happy about us helping with it,” Jessie pointed out. “Maybe he wants to solve the mystery himself.”
That made sense to Henry. “Nelson does think money is important. At least, that’s what Fran said. Maybe he’s hoping to keep the treasure for himself.”
“You know,” said Violet, “Nelson isn’t the only suspect.”
The others turned to her, puzzled.
“I think we should include Cora Roback on our list.”
Benny looked confused. “But, Violet, Cora thinks the whole idea of a ghost cow is silly.”
“Maybe she’s trying to prove that to Fran,” Violet suggested. She was sitting on the window seat with her arms around her knees.
The others had to admit that was possible. Didn’t Cora think all the other sightings had been staged? Maybe she was trying to convince Fran the ghost was a fake by showing her how easy it would be to fool people.
“And she owns an antique store,” added Jessie. “So it would be easy for her to get hold of an old cowbell.”
“It’d be easy for anyone to get hold of a cowbell,” Henry pointed out. “Cedarburg is overflowing with antique stores.”
“I still think Lottie is behind everything,” insisted Benny. “I bet she’s trying to scare us away so she can beat us to the treasure.”
“You might be right, Benny,” Jessie said. “She does need money for school in the fall.”
“And she never lets anyone see what she’s painting,” added Benny. “What’s that all about?”
“Maybe she’s shy about her work,” offered Violet.
Jessie frowned. She thought there was more to it than that, but she didn’t say anything.
“There’s one other person we should consider,” Henry told them. “Somebody who wants everyone to believe Shadowbox is haunted.”
“Who’s that, Henry?” Violet asked.
“Fran,” Henry said.
“Fran!” The others were so surprised, all they could do was stare at their older brother with their mouths open.
“You don’t mean that, do you, Henry?” said Jessie. “You can’t really be suspicious of Fran.”
Henry looked around at them. “We have to consider everybody.”
“But why would she want to fool us, Henry?” Violet’s soft eyes were serious. “She’s been so nice to us.”
“We all like her,” said Henry, keeping his voice low. “But still … she is proud of her family ghost.”
Jessie nodded slowly. “And she likes to entertain visitors.”
“Maybe we should keep a lid on this for now,” Henry suggested. “I think we should try to figure out a few things on our own first.” The others agreed.
“What if Buttercup really is trying to tell Fran something?” said Benny.
Jessie, who was sitting on the bed right next to him, gave her little brother a hug. “That was no ghost out there, Benny,” she assured him. Still, it did make her wonder. |