儿童英语读物 The Mystery of the Stolen Sword CHAPTER 10 Joshua’s Ghost

（单词翻译）

“It’s the ghost. It’s Joshua!” Benny couldn’t stop shrieking¹.

Just as suddenly as he appeared, the ghost vanished — with Henry chasing after him.

“Benny, Benny, calm down,” Jessie said soothingly². She hugged Benny to her, while Violet buried her face in Jessie’s arm.

“That was so scary,” Violet groaned³.

“I know it was,” Jessie agreed. “I just hope Henry’s okay.”

“Do you think the ghost will try to hurt him?” Benny asked, looking very serious.

Jessie shook her head. “Benny, I don’t think that was really a ghost.”

A few minutes later, Henry appeared, looking discouraged. “He was too fast for me. He got away.”

“You mean he vanished into the air,” Benny said. He knew that was what ghosts did.

“No, he just ran too fast,” Henry said as he turned on his flashlight. “But if we follow his path, maybe we can find some clues.”

“Clues?” Benny asked.

“Yeah, like footprints or something,” Henry said. He walked to the spot where the ghost had been and carefully studied the ground under his flashlight.

“But ghosts don’t leave footprints,” Benny protested.

“This one did,” Henry called. “Look here.”

In the ground in front of Henry were a set of extremely large footprints, much larger than Henry’s.

“The man sure has big feet,” Jessie remarked.

“And I think he wears hiking boots,” Violet said as she beamed her flashlight on one of the footprints.

“Who do we know around here with feet that big, and hiking boots?” Henry asked.

“Not Mike!” Violet sounded shocked.

Henry nodded.

The following day, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny were up early. They had not wanted to wake the others when they came in the night before. The first thing they did was talk to Seymour. They found him in the barn feeding the animals before breakfast.

“You did what? You went out after dark — alone — to try to catch a burglar?” Seymour did not sound happy. “You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

When Seymour had heard the whole story, he shook his head sadly. “I can’t believe it’s really Mike. I don’t understand why he was trying to scare you like that, unless, as you say, he was trying to get you off his trail.”

“I suppose it’s possible it could be someone else with big feet and hiking boots,” Jessie suggested.

“Let’s hope so,” Seymour said. “But the first thing we need to do is talk to Mike.”

On their way out of the barn, Henry spotted⁴ something on the ground, under a bush. When he walked over, he saw it was a pile of clothing — the scarecrow’s clothing.

“Come here,” he called to the others. Henry picked up the large flannel⁵ shirt, the denim⁶ pants, and the black felt hat. “These are the clothes the scarecrow had on last night,” Henry said, handing them to Seymour.

“I might as well take these back to the house,” Seymour said. He sniffed⁷ the collar of the shirt. “That musky smell — do you recognize it?” he asked the Aldens.

“Sort of,” said Jessie, wrinkling her nose. “But I can’t place it.”

“It’s an aftershave Mike sometimes wears,” Seymour said sadly.

Two hours later, the Aldens and Seymour found Mike in the orchard⁸ raking.

“I need to talk to you,” Seymour told Mike. “Let’s go up to the house.” When Mike saw all the Aldens around Seymour, he turned pale and leaned his rake against the side of the tree.

“I think I know what all this is about,” he said.

“There’s no excuse for what I did,” Mike said, looking at his hands. He sat at the kitchen table with Seymour, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny.

“So you stole my things,” Seymour said. He sounded more hurt than angry. “Mike, you’ve worked for me all these years. What happened? Did you need money?”

“I did. Rob is very sick. Rob’s my son,” he added for the Aldens’ benefit. “He needs money for a kidney transplant. I guess I was desperate. When that guy approached me, wanting me to help him out, I didn’t think. He offered me so much money I couldn’t refuse.”

“What guy?” Benny asked.

“That guy who’s hanging around town pretending to be an author. He told me he met you in the library.”

“Blake Ambrose,” Benny said.

“Right.”

“He’s not really an author?” Henry sounded surprised.

Mike shrugged⁹. “I think he’s written a couple of horror stories that have sold well. But he makes most of his money stealing antiques and then selling them off to dealers¹¹ in New York and Boston.”

“So you helped him steal the things from here?” Henry asked.

Mike sighed. “Yes. I didn’t steal from any other places. Blake would leave me messages carved on one of the trees. I would just take what he wanted me to. He’d given me a list of all the things he wanted from the farm when we agreed to work together.”

“If he did that, why did he need to leave you the messages on the tree?” Benny asked.

“I couldn’t take everything at the same time,” Mike explained. “Blake wanted me to steal the items one at a time, when he was ready for them. He had an odd way of doing things. He hardly ever wanted us to be seen together.”

“And you worked alone. I mean, no one else helped you?” Henry wanted to make sure.

“No, no one else was involved,” Mike said. “And Blake told me that if the pieces I took didn’t sell, I could get them back. I was keeping track of where the pieces went so I could return them to you, someday, if I ever got the money to buy them back,” he said to Seymour.

Seymour nodded sadly. “Mike, you should have told me about Rob. I didn’t know. I might have been able to help you some other way.”

“I know, Seymour.” Mike had tears in his eyes, which he tried to brush away. “As I said, I just wasn’t thinking. I was so worried about my son.”

“So you know where Seymour’s things are?” Henry asked.

Mike nodded. “Most of the letters are with a dealer¹⁰ in Boston. So is the stamp collection. But the sword and helmet are still here in Chassell.”

Violet looked puzzled. “How come a local antique store had one of the letters?” she asked.

“That was a slipup,” Mike explained. “That letter got mixed in with some things I was taking to a yard sale — not any of the stolen goods, but some things from my house I was selling to help raise money. It was careless of me, I admit. Blake was really mad about that letter, especially after it ended up in the local paper. He almost didn’t pay me because of it.”

“It’s funny Mrs. Holmes didn’t remember buying that letter at a yard sale,” Violet remarked.

“Mrs. Holmes is kind of absentminded,” Mike said.

“She sure is,” Seymour agreed, smiling for the first time all morning, but he was serious again when he turned to Mike. “You know, I’m going to have to call the police,” he told his farmhand.

“I know,” Mike said.

The police arrived twenty minutes later. “We’re going to need you to write out a full confession,” one of the police officers told Mike as he led him outside to the waiting car.

“I will,” Mike said. “And I want to do all I can to get Seymour’s things.”

“The more you cooperate in this investigation¹², the lighter¹³ your sentence will be,” the officer said.

That evening, the old black phone in the living room rang three times before Benny rushed to answer it.

“It’s for you, Seymour,” Benny called. “It’s the police.”

Benny waited by the phone hoping to hear some news, but the person on the other end of the line was doing most of the talking. “Yes. Yes,” Seymour was saying. “Good. Good. Really. Yes. Okay. Thank you.”

Benny hopped¹⁴ on one foot, then the other. “What did they say?” he asked after Seymour hung up the phone.

“Well, thanks to Mike’s help, the police caught up with Blake Ambrose just outside of Boston. He’s wanted in five other states for burglary — all antiques. He’s the one who did all the robberies in Chassell.”

“Wow,” said Benny.

“Are you getting your things back?” Jessie asked as she came into the kitchen, followed by Henry, Violet, Grandfather, Rose, Veronica, Martin, and Jeff.

“Yes. The police are working on that. Apparently¹⁵ my sword and helmet were in Blake’s car, so I can have those right away. It may take longer to get the stamp collection and letters, but the police know where they are. And if the dealer has sold them, he’s kept records. In time, I’m sure I’ll get everything back.”

“Thank goodness,” Grandfather said.

“What’s going to happen to Mike?” Benny wanted to know.

“Since it’s his first offense¹⁶ and he cooperated with the police, he won’t have to go to jail,” Seymour said. “But he may have to do lots of community service.”

Jeff shook his head. “I had no idea Mike was under so much financial pressure. He has been looking worried lately, but he keeps everything to himself, so it’s hard to know what’s really going on with him.”

“If we’d known Mike was so desperate, we would have lent him money,” Rose said. “We still can.”

“I’m planning to,” Seymour said.

“That’s kind of you,” Jeff said.

“What a story,” Veronica commented, shaking her head. “Who would have thought all this was happening in this sleepy old orchard?”

“Veronica,” Jessie said, “how did you know Blake Ambrose?”

“Oh, I didn’t know him very well,” Veronica said. “I used to see him in the library when I was there getting books for my history paper on the Civil War.”

“Did he offer to help you with your research?” Henry asked.

“Yes,” Veronica said, laughing. “I remember once he seemed kind of mad because I was taking out some books he said he needed. He sure knew a lot about the Civil War. He told me he was an expert on military history.”

“That’s probably how he knew so much about my sword and armor collection,” Seymour remarked. “It is a relief to have this mystery solved.”

“Well, one mystery is solved,” Benny said. “But I still want to find out about Joshua’s ghost.”

Veronica rolled her eyes, but everyone else laughed.

The next three nights, Benny walked out to the orchard, sometimes alone, sometimes with Henry, Violet, or Jessie. Each night he heard a long, low boo. On the third night, Jessie convinced him it was really an owl¹⁷ when her flashlight spotlighted¹⁸ the bird in the tree.

“But what about that hissing¹⁹ sound Violet and I heard?” Benny asked.

“It could have been a snake,” Jessie said. “But I bet it was the sound of leaves rustling²⁰.”

“That’s what Violet said.” Benny sounded extremely discouraged. “You don’t really think there’s a ghost, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Jessie answered.

Benny looked so crushed that Jessie put her arms around him.

The following morning, it rained. “Why don’t we go to the shed to explore that buggy,” Jessie suggested.

“Sure,” Benny said. “I’ll go.”

“Be my guests,” Seymour said, chuckling²¹. “Let me know if you find anything interesting.”

“There’s tons of cool stuff in this buggy,” Benny said as he looked through a box that held some old spinning tops, marbles, and a set of wooden blocks with letters and drawings carved into them.

“I bet those blocks are handmade,” Jessie said. “Someone must have carved them for his children.”

“Do you really think so?” Benny held up a block with the letter D carved on one side, and a dog on the other.

“It would have been a great way to teach a little kid the alphabet,” Henry remarked. He sat inside the buggy poring over some old letters he had seen in one of the wooden chests.

Jessie and Violet were beside the buggy, carefully trying on old hats and petticoats they had found in the steamer trunk.

Benny blew dust off a marble and then dropped it. It fell inside the buggy. As he bent²² down to look for it, he noticed a long leather bag near his feet. Part of the bag was under a wooden box. Benny moved the box out of the way so he could pick up the bag.

Henry looked up from his reading. “That’s a saddlebag,” he told Benny. “People used to put them across a horse’s shoulders in front of the saddle while riding, to carry stuff.”

“Neat,” said Benny. “Let’s see what’s in it.” Benny pulled out a newspaper, very yellowed with age, that practically crumbled²³ to pieces as he set it down. Then he took out an old seed catalog, and finally a letter in a long white envelope. The letter was addressed to Mr. Gideon Curtis!

“This letter has never been opened,” Benny said. “Should we read it?”

“Maybe we should let Seymour open it,” Henry suggested. “It’s addressed to his ancestor.”

“Look, it’s got a Virginia postmark,” Jessie said, looking over Benny’s shoulder. The feathers in her hat tickled²⁴ his nose.

“Aaa-choo!”

“A Virginia postmark,” Henry said, reaching for the letter. “Maybe it’s from Joshua!”

The Aldens lost no time finding Seymour. He was sitting at the kitchen table having a cup of coffee with Grandfather and Rose.

“I never knew there was a saddlebag in that buggy,” Seymour said as he opened the letter, which was written in ink. “It is from Joshua!”

“What does it say?” Benny was so impatient, he was hopping²⁵ up and down.

Seymour cleared his throat and began reading:

Virginia

18 November 1865

Dear Cousin,

It has now been eight years since I last saw you. I have not written because I was still very angry we could never come to an agreement about your father’s sword & armor collection, & then the War began. I left your house in a huff, & it has taken me years to stop being so angry. I regret the time we’ve lost, when we once so enjoyed each other’s company, but so be it. I am writing now to tell you I plan to leave the country. The War has left my house and land in ruins & there is nothing left for me here. I plan to go abroad & hope to settle in Australia.

Cousin, as I will probably never see you again, I write to wish you well. Love to Sybil, Theodore, and Alice.

Faithfully yours,

Joshua

“My goodness. And this letter has been in the barn all the time! Gideon never opened it. He must have picked up his mail on horseback one time, put it in his saddlebag, and then forgot about it,” Rose suggested.

“It’s strange he would have forgotten a letter from Joshua,” Seymour said. “Maybe he wasn’t the one who picked up the mail.”

“He never knew his cousin had forgiven him,” Violet said.

“Australia. No wonder no one ever heard from him.” Seymour couldn’t believe it.

“I guess that means Joshua was never really a ghost,” Benny said sadly.

“I’m afraid not, Benny.” Seymour shook his head.

“Maybe the ghost isn’t really Joshua?” Violet teased.

Benny perked²⁶ up. “I never thought of that.”

Everyone laughed.