Henry set the box down gently beside the hole.
“Is it heavy?” asked Benny excitedly.
“No, it’s not,” said Henry.
“What’s inside?” Benny asked.
“We’ll soon see.” Reaching around in front, Henry carefully unlatched the top. Then he lifted the lid.
Inside the box there was only one object. It was a leatherbound book.
“A book?” said Benny. “What kind of treasure is that?”
Violet grinned. “I think books are the best kind of treasure there is!”
Jessie carefully lifted the book from the box. It looked very old and delicate. She opened the cover and read aloud, “My Story, by Isabel Wile.”
“It’s handwritten,” said Violet, peering over her sister’s shoulder. “It looks like a diary.”
Jessie turned to the next page. “You’re right. Isabel Wile’s diary, I guess. I wonder who she was.”
“There’s a date on the first page,” Violet pointed out. “Wow, this was written a long time ago!”
“Isabel must have been the owner of the doll,” Henry said. “She wrote the diary, buried it here, and put the note in the doll’s apron. Then she hid the doll in the boxcar.”
“And we found it!” cried Benny.
“I wonder why she did all that,” said Jessie.
“Maybe if we read the diary we’ll find out,” said Henry.
“Is it okay to read someone else’s diary?” Violet asked.
“In this case it is,” Jessie assured her. “This diary is very old and it seems that Isabel — or somebody — wanted us to find it.”
“Okay,” said Benny. “Only … could we eat our lunch first?”
“Sure,” Henry said. The bike ride and all the digging had made them hungry.
The children washed their hands in the stream, just as they had when they’d lived there. Then they spread out the picnic blanket beside the space where the boxcar had been. Jessie gave everyone a napkin and Violet passed out the sandwiches. Henry poured lemonade for all of them.
“Shall I start reading the diary?” Jessie asked, once she had eaten some of her sandwich.
The others nodded eagerly.
“June 2,” Jessie began. “Papa still has not found another job. We can no longer pay the rent on our apartment, so we’ve had to move out. But the good news is, Mama and Papa have found us a wonderful place to stay. It’s an old boxcar.”
“Isabel lived in our boxcar?” said Benny, his eyes wide.
“Actually, I think we lived in her boxcar,” said Henry. “She was there first.”
“Go on,” Violet urged.
“It is snug and dry inside,” Jessie read. “Mama folded up some blankets and made a cozy bed for me and Rebecca on the floor in one corner. Louis is sleeping in the other corner. Mama and Papa have a bed along the front wall.”
“Rebecca and Louis must be her sister and brother,” Violet said.
Jessie read, “We had our first dinner in the boxcar tonight. We sat on the ground like a picnic and ate bread and cheese and milk.”
“Sounds like what we used to eat,” said Henry.
Jessie went on, “And for dessert we picked blueberries.”
“Hey! I remember those bushes,” said Benny, springing to his feet. “There they are — still full of berries.”
“Let’s pick some!” said Jessie, setting the diary aside.
They collected a large bunch of blueberries in a napkin and ate them with the peaches and the delicious cookies.
“Just as sweet as I remembered them,” said Henry, popping a large handful of blueberries into his mouth.
Jessie continued reading. “Soon Papa will find a new job, and we’ll be in a regular house again. But for now, it’s fun living here in the woods, in our little boxcar home.”
“That’s what we thought, too,” said Benny.
Jessie turned the page and began the next entry. “Today Rebecca got covered in mud, so Mama told me to give her a bath in the stream. I don’t think she liked it very much.”
“Rebecca must be her little sister,” said Benny.
“This sounds odd,” said Jessie. “It says, ‘I put Rebecca on a rock to dry.’”
“That is strange,” said Violet.
“Then Papa took me to the library,” Jessie read. “I got a new mystery story. I’ll read it to Rebecca tonight. Then maybe tomorrow Rebecca and I can make up our own mystery.”
“Hey, Isabel likes mysteries, just like us!” said Benny.
Jessie went on to the next entry. “Today I cut Rebecca’s hair. Mama was very angry with me.”
“I’ll bet she was,” said Henry with a laugh.
“Mama reminded me that Rebecca’s hair won’t grow back.” Jessie stopped and looked at the others.
“That’s really weird,” said Benny.
Jessie read ahead a little bit and then she started to laugh. “Now I get it! Listen to this — ‘Mama gave me some thick brown yarn to make Rebecca some more hair.’ Rebecca must be her doll!”
“That’s the doll we found!” said Violet. “That’s Rebecca.”
Jessie read several more entries from Isabel’s diary. Isabel and Rebecca had lots of fun together, making up mysteries to solve.
Sometimes Isabel played with Louis. They helped her mother keep the boxcar clean and cook the meals. Their father was usually off looking for a new job. At night, they would read mysteries together.
The children were all enjoying Isabel’s story, but it was getting late. At last Jessie closed the book, marking her place with a leaf. “We’d better head home.”
“Yes,” said Henry. “Mrs. McGregor will be worried.”
“I can’t wait to show her the diary,” said Violet.
The Aldens packed up what was left of their lunch and put it in Jessie’s backpack, along with the diary. Then they rode home.
When the children were just up the street from their house, Violet slowed down.
“Tired?” Jessie asked.
“No, look,” her sister said, motioning to the car parked in front of the Aldens’ house. It was a little purple car. “Do you think that’s Amelia?”
Jessie nodded. “How many people drive purple cars?”
“I wonder what she’s doing here,” Violet said.
As the Aldens rode up alongside the car, they could see that no one was inside.
“Hey, look!” Benny cried, pointing into Amelia’s car. “A flashlight!”
“Maybe she’s going camping,” said Violet. “I see she has a sleeping bag, too.”
“Or maybe she’s the one who was snooping around the boxcar at night,” Benny said.
“Maybe … but lots of people have flashlights,” Jessie reminded him.
Just then the Aldens saw Amelia walking across their front lawn. She looked surprised when she saw them near her car, but then she waved.
“Hello!” Amelia called as she got closer. “I hope you don’t mind — I was just taking another look at your boxcar.”
The Aldens looked at one another. She was back to look at it again? And she’d just walked into their backyard without asking?
As if she’d heard what they were thinking, Amelia said, “I asked Mrs. McGregor if it was okay, and she said yes.”
“Sure, that’s fine,” said Jessie.
“Say, have you ever found anything … unusual in the boxcar?” Amelia asked.
“Unusual?” Henry repeated. “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know … never mind,” said Amelia with a quick smile. “I’d better get going now.” She got into her car and drove off.
The Aldens walked their bikes up the driveway.
“Do you think she was trying to ask about the doll?” asked Violet.
The others shrugged their shoulders, uncertain. “How would she know about it?” Jessie said.
They had reached the garage and were putting their bikes away and hanging up their helmets.
“Well, there must be some reason she keeps coming back to look at our boxcar,” said Benny. “Especially if she was there in the middle of the night.”
“I don’t know what it is,” said Jessie, “but I think there’s something Amelia is not telling us.”
When the Aldens went inside, Mrs. McGregor was setting the table for dinner. “Amelia was just here to look at the boxcar,” she told them.
“We saw her as she was coming out,” said Violet.
“Look what we found!” said Jessie, taking off her backpack and pulling out the diary.
Mrs. McGregor put down the silverware she was holding and looked at the diary in amazement. “Oh my! You really did find a treasure.”
Jessie handed the diary to Mrs. McGregor. She took it and studied the cover carefully before opening it and turning the pages very gently.
“Isabel Wile,” Mrs. McGregor said to herself. “I wonder who she was.”
“The doll we found belonged to her,” Violet said.
“She lived in the boxcar,” said Benny. “Our boxcar!”
“Isn’t that amazing!” Mrs. McGregor said. “Did you read her diary?”
“Part of it,” said Jessie. “Until it was time to come home for dinner.”
“Which reminds me … ” Mrs. McGregor said, giving the diary back and hurrying into the kitchen.
After washing their hands, the Aldens finished setting the table as Mrs. McGregor brought in a steaming hot casserole.
“Oh no, I just remembered,” said Violet, “we told Claire we’d come by when we got home.”
“Now it’s too late,” said Henry. “We can stop by there tomorrow.”
“But let’s not tell her about the diary yet,” said Jessie.
“Why not?” Benny asked.
“I would rather show it to Grandfather first,” Jessie said. “We’ll see what he thinks before we tell anyone else.”
The others agreed.
That night the children decided to sleep in the house. Even Benny was now convinced that the strange things in the boxcar probably weren’t caused by a ghost. Also, they were tired from their long bike ride to Silver City and wanted the comfort of their own beds.
“Can you read me some of the diary?” Benny asked Jessie as she tucked him into bed.
“In the morning,” Jessie said. “I’m too tired now. Besides, we shouldn’t read it without the others.” She shut Benny’s door behind her.
In his room, Henry was just getting into bed when a light in the backyard caught his attention. He went to the window and raised the shade.
“Benny was right!” he said to himself.
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