“Achoo! AAAAAA-CHOOO!” Those were the first sounds the Aldens heard from Edward Munsey. Mr. Munsey was a quilt expert sent by the State History Museum. He had just followed Lina into the attic. The four Aldens had been there all morning helping Lina sort through things for the yard sale.
“It’s not as dusty as it was when we first got here,” Benny said helpfully.
“Ah, oooh, urgh,” said Mr. Munsey, his round face half hidden by a large handkerchief. He whisked the handkerchief away, revealing his watery green eyes. “Allergies,” he finally said. He managed to smile. “To dust. Maybe from all the time I’ve spent in people’s attics looking at what they call treasure.”
At the mention of treasure, Benny perked up. It was a word he liked. “Lina’s grandfather said her great-great-aunt had hidden trea — ”
Interrupting quickly Lina said, “Mr. Munsey, I’d like you to meet my neighbors, Henry, Violet, Benny, and Jessie Alden.”
“And Watch,” added Benny, pointing toward Watch, who was now curled up in the sunlight from the attic window on a faded pillow. Watch raised his head at the sound of his name — and sneezed, too.
That made the Aldens and Lina laugh.
“I hope you are not allergic to dogs,” said Jessie.
“As a matter of fact, and most surprisingly, no,” said Mr. Munsey. “Now, am I to look at quilts, or, er, treasure?”
“Quilts,” said Lina, stepping over to the cedar chest. She raised the lid, moved the gray quilt to one side, and lifted out the first of Hope’s masterpieces. Henry, Violet, and Jessie helped Lina spread it out while Benny gathered up the delicate old tissue paper in which it had been folded.
Mr. Munsey blinked. He cleared his throat. He leaned close to the quilt, so close his nose almost touched it. Then he whipped a small magnifying glass and a small flashlight from his pocket. He clicked on the light and began to examine the quilt through the magnifying glass.
“Ah, um, hmmm,” he murmured as he traced the quilt’s stitches with the flashlight and magnifying glass. “Oh, hmmm, yes.”
“Yes,” he repeated, straightening up. His green eyes were very bright. “Yes, indeed. Treasure, Ms. Diaz. Treasure, indeed. And there are more of these, you say?”
“Five more,” Lina said, and she and the Aldens produced the quilts from the cedar chest, one by one.
Mr. Munsey looked at each very, very carefully. “Flying Geese,” he murmured. “Log Cabin. Ah… the Nine Patch pattern. And look at this stitching, this detail!”
“What are you talking about?” asked Benny.
Mr. Munsey looked up almost as if he’d forgotten anyone else was in the attic with him. “The quilt patterns,” he explained. “Those are the names of the patterns of the quilts. This one is called Log Cabin, and that one is Flying Geese.”
“I don’t see any log cabins or geese flying,” said Benny.
“I think I do,” said Violet. “I mean, not real geese, but you can see a sort of pattern… like the wings of geese when they fly.”
“Exactly,” said Mr. Munsey. “Both Log Cabin and Flying Geese are very common quilt patterns. A couple of these others are a bit more unusual. All are, well, amazing.”
The quilt expert turned to Lina. “Your Great-great-aunt Hope had a wonderful way with color. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen finer stitching. These quilts are worth quite a bit of money.”
Lina reached out to stroke a green velvet patch on the Log Cabin quilt. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Perhaps you would consider giving them to the museum,” said Mr. Munsey. “We could see they are properly cared for and hang them up where many many people could enjoy them.”
With one last quick pat of the quilt, Lina looked up. “Hang them in a museum?” she said. “I don’t know.”
“They are very valuable. Unique. Irreplaceable. You don’t want anything to happen to them, which it easily could, stored in a chest in an attic,” said Mr. Munsey. He glanced toward the window. “Even sunlight will damage them.”
“The quilts have been here for a long, long time, and they’ve been safe,” Henry pointed out.
Mr. Munsey ignored Henry and kept his attention focused on Lina. “We should act quickly,” he urged. “If it’s money you want, I can try to arrange something. We’re not a wealthy museum, but we have resources.”
Laying a hand on Lina’s arm, Jessie said, “We’ll help you put the quilts back in the trunk, and you can think about it.”
“Yes,” said Lina. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll think about it.”
“Ms. Diaz, don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Mr. Munsey said sternly. “Leaving such valuable quilts lying around in an attic is foolish, at best.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Munsey,” Lina said, smiling sweetly. “And don’t worry, I won’t take long to make my decision.”
“But the quilts,” sputtered Mr. Munsey. “The attic could flood. Or catch fire… or someone could steal them. As a collector myself, I can tell you that there are many people who would do anything to get a quilt like one of these — even steal one.”
“Who’s going to steal Hope’s quilts? No one knows they’re here except us,” said Violet.
Mr. Munsey shook his head. “People have ways of finding things out,” he said.
“Not if you don’t tell anyone,” Jessie replied.
Lina began folding the quilts before putting them back into the chest.
“You forgot to look at this quilt,” Benny said suddenly. “What about this one?”
Mr. Munsey glanced at the faded gray woolen quilt with rough knots holding it together. “Oh,” he said. “That’s what is called a hops or utility quilt. Quickly made just to keep someone warm. Very used, not in good condition compared to these other quilts. Look at the different colors of thread where it’s been repaired. Odd to find it signed and dated, but it does lend it a certain small value. Nothing compared to these others.”
“Maybe she used it every day and liked it because it was so warm and she didn’t have to worry about tearing it or spilling anything on it,” said Henry.
“Maybe it was her favorite,” said Violet. She ran her hand over the worn wool. The fabric wasn’t as rough as it looked — in fact, it was soft and warm. The hops quilt was very thick, too, Violet noticed, thicker than the others.
“Most likely it was just put in the trunk to protect the other quilts,” said Mr. Munsey.
After placing the hops quilt inside, Lina shut the trunk and glanced around the attic. It was much emptier than before, and not nearly as dusty. Henry had even cleaned the attic window so the light was brighter.
“Thank you again,” Lina said to Mr. Munsey, leading him down the attic stairs to the front door.
“I hope you’ll be in touch very soon,” said Mr. Munsey. “The sooner you decide to give the quilts to the museum, the sooner they will be safe. Here’s my card.” He nodded at all the Aldens. “Good day.”
“I don’t think he’s very happy about having to leave those quilts behind,” said Henry, once Mr. Munsey was gone.
Lina laughed. “No. But I’ll need a lot more information before I make any decisions.”
“We’ll stop by the library tomorrow to do some research,” Jessie promised.
Lina nodded. “Okay. Meanwhile, we’ve got some signs to make for that yard sale.”
The Aldens and Lina sat around the big old table in the dining room of the house and made signs for the yard sale. TREASURES FOR SALE, Jessie wrote in big blue letters on a piece of cardboard. At the bottom of the sign, she wrote Lina’s address. STOP! LOOK! ATTIC SALE AHEAD! Henry printed on a sign to put at the corner of the street.
“After the yard sale, we’ll keep looking, won’t we?” Benny asked.
“For what?” Violet asked. She was painting all her signs in purple, her favorite color.
“The hidden treasure,” said Benny. “Hope’s treasure.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing,” Lina said. “To find that treasure, whatever it is — if there is one.”
“There is,” said Benny. “I know there is.”
“Well, first we’ll put these signs up all over town tomorrow,” said Jessie.
“I have some business in Silver City tomorrow,” Lina said. “I’ll put some up there, too. And I’ll put an advertisement in the newspapers.”
“It’s going to be a great yard sale!” said Benny. “I can hardly wait.”
Waving good-bye, the Aldens headed home.
“Do you think it’s true what the quilt man said?” asked Benny as they walked. “That someone might want to steal Lina’s quilts?”
“No,” said Jessie. “No one’s going to bother Lina or the quilts.”
Henry agreed. “I think Mr. Munsey was just trying to scare Lina into giving up the quilts right away.”
Jessie made a face. “I didn’t like the way he tried to pressure her into it. I wonder why he’s so anxious to get the quilts immediately.”
“Maybe she should give the quilts to the museum, just to keep them safe,” said Violet.
“They’re safe,” said Jessie. “Don’t worry. No one’s going to try to steal them. No one even knows they’re here!” |