Mystery of the Pirate's Map (8 page)

“You should be ashamed!” Benny scolded her, but Henry quickly hushed his little brother.

“You're right, I should. That's why I've been following all of you. After I sold the picture to Walker last night, I couldn't sleep, and it took me half the night to figure out why—I felt bad and was worried about what might happen to you kids. By the next morning I knew I had to do something about it.”

Meredith reached into her pocket and pulled out a huge wad of cash with a rubber band around it. She threw it at Winston Walker, who caught it against his chest.

“You can have your money back, Mr. Walker,” she said. “I don't want it. I know what people around this town think of me. I know they think I'm a little strange. But I've never committed a crime before, not until the other night.” She turned to Tom and continued, “Mr. Harrison, I'm truly, truly sorry for what I did. Not only was it a crime, but it was just plain wrong. If you want to press charges against me, I'll understand.”

All eyes turned to Tom, who appeared to be thinking over Meredith's offer. He began stroking his chin. “You know, I was thinking of putting together a nice color pamphlet advertising my inn, but the one thing I can't do is take a really good picture. You wouldn't happen to know any top-notch photographers, would you?”

Meredith stared blankly at Tom for a long moment. Then a broad smile spread across her face. “Actually I think I do know someone. She's very good and I'm sure she'd do it for free.”

Tom nodded slowly. “Is that right? Gee, she sounds perfect. Why don't you ask her to come to the house—through the
front door
this time—next Wednesday.”

Meredith's smile grew even wider. “I sure will, Mr. Harrison. I sure will.”

“Great,” he replied. And with that, Meredith Baker turned and walked away, looking very happy.

Grandfather folded his arms and looked back at Winston Walker. “So, now, what were you saying before?” he asked sternly.

Walker said, “I was talking about Jack Ford and his mother, and how I'm going to buy a house for each of them.”

“Oh, yes, of course. That's a very nice gesture, Mr. Walker,” Grandfather told him, “but will you stick to your word?”

Winston Walker looked right into Grandfather Alden's eyes. “You better believe I will. I'll make things right with him, and with a whole lot of other people, too.”

He climbed up out of the hole and brushed some of the dirt from his clothes. “Then I'm going to do something nice for you kids,” he said.

“There's no reason for you to do that, Mr. Walker,” Grandfather replied, but Winston Walker was already waving his hand.

“No, no, I insist. It'll be the right thing to help me get . . . well, get better, I guess.”

For the first time since Grandfather met Winston Walker, he felt a little bit of fondness for him.

“Good for you, Winston,” Grandfather said, patting him on the back.

“Yeah, good for you,” Benny added with a smile.

Winston Walker smiled back at the youngest Alden and said, “Here—
Benny—
you can have this.”

He thumbed John Finney's single gold coin into the air, and Benny caught it.

“Wow, thanks!” Benny said.

“You're welcome. And now, if you'll all excuse me, I've got a lot of work to do.”

“Good luck,” Jessie said.

“Thanks,” Winston Walker replied, then turned and headed back down the sunlit nature trail. He reached the curve before the footbridge, followed it into the reeds, and was gone.

T
here were only two days of vacation left for the Aldens, and they were determined to spend them both at the beach.

Benny and Henry were playing in the ocean, running around and splashing each other, while Jessie and Violet lay on their towel, reading. Grandfather sat nearby in a folding chair, resting peacefully with his hands folded together on his chest. In the sand next to him was a little transistor radio broadcasting the day's baseball game. There were hundreds of other sunbathers around, and for the first time none of them showed any interest in Benny. The great mystery of John Finney's treasure had finally been solved, and most people found the outcome more funny than anything else. It was yesterday's news. It had already been forgotten.

Tom came back from the boardwalk carrying a large cardboard box. “Food's here!” he called out. Benny turned quickly. He and Henry hurried over.

“Let's see, now . . . a hot dog for Henry, a hamburger for Violet, a cheeseburger for Jessie, some fries with each of those orders, and of course one of everything for Benny.”

“Oh, boy, I'm starving!” Benny cried out excitedly, jumping up and down.

“What would you like first?” Tom asked.

“Ummm . . . the hot dog!” Benny replied.

Tom lifted one dog out of the box and handed it over. “There you go. Hey, James, your food is here.”

Grandfather pushed up his sunglasses. “Thanks, Tom. That should hit the spot right about now.”

Everyone ate quietly while they listened to the game and watched other people playing in the waves.

When Grandfather was finished with his hamburger, he reached alongside his chair to get his copy of the day's newspaper.

“Did anyone see this?” he asked, displaying the front page. Right in the center was a picture of Winston Walker shaking hands with another man. Behind them was the old lighthouse where the town's historical society was located. The headline underneath the picture read, MILLIONAIRE TO DONATE PROFITS FROM BOOK DEAL TO LOCAL HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

Jessie said, “Book deal? What book deal? I didn't know he wrote a book.”

“He hasn't yet,” Grandfather told her, “but he's going to. According to the article, it's going to be called
Fool's Gold
and it's going to be partially about his worldwide search for John Finney's treasure. But mostly it's supposed to be about the foolishness of spending your whole life chasing nothing but money.” Grandfather looked at the picture and shook his head. “He's been offered half a million dollars for the book. Even when he's not trying to make money, he still does.”

“Some people are just like that,” Tom said.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention that Jack Ford called this morning,” said Grandfather.

“What did he say?” Benny asked eagerly. He and the other children had grown fond of him during his short visit.

Grandfather smiled. “It was hard to tell. He seemed a bit . . . in shock. He mumbled something about Winston Walker paying off his mother's house, and then buying her a new one. Then he bought one for Jack, too. They've both already been paid for. Jack didn't know what to say. He was speechless.”

“It's wonderful that Winston Walker kept his word,” Violet pointed out.

“It sure is,” Tom told her.

He had not only kept his word about Jack Ford, but also about giving something to the Aldens, too. The morning after finding John Finney's box, a personal note from Winston came for the Aldens at Tom's house. It said simply that there were four brand-new bicycles waiting for the children at their favorite shop when they got back to Greenfield.

Grandfather laughed. “Jack wanted to know what made Winston change so quickly. I told him it was because of John Finney's treasure.”

Benny looked confused. “But . . . there was no treasure.”

“Oh, yes, there was,” Grandfather said wisely. “Only it wasn't the kind of treasure Winston Walker was expecting.”

Benny didn't quite understand what Grandfather meant, but Jessie did. “He found out what he had become, and he was given the chance to change it,” she told everyone.

Her grandfather jabbed a finger at her. “Exactly,” he said proudly. “So it looks as though everything did turn out for the best.”

“It sure did,” Tom agreed.

Benny finished the last bite of his hamburger and looked back at the ocean. He really wanted to get into the water again, but he knew he shouldn't so soon after eating.

Then something caught his eye that made him jump up off his towel and run down there anyway—it was a bottle, bobbing back and forth in the foam.

He rushed in and grabbed it before the next wave could pull it back out. It was very, very old, much older than John Finney's . . . and was that a small piece of paper with something drawn on it inside?

No, Benny saw after his imagination calmed down. The bottle was no older than he was; it simply had been designed to
look
old. And the paper he saw wasn't on the inside. It was the bottle's label, pasted on the
other
side.

He brought it back to where everyone was sitting so he could throw it in the trash when they left.

“Another treasure map, Benny?” Grandfather asked.

Benny shook his head. “No, but maybe that's okay.”

He laughed then, and the others laughed with him.

Two days later the Aldens were back in Grandfather's station wagon, cruising north toward Greenfield, headed for home.

G
ERTRUDE
C
HANDLER
W
ARNER
discovered when she was teaching that many readers who like an exciting story could find no books that were both easy and fun to read. She decided to try to meet this need, and her first book,
The Boxcar Children,
quickly proved she had succeeded.

Miss Warner drew on her own experiences to write the mystery. As a child she spent hours watching trains go by on the tracks opposite her family home. She often dreamed about what it would be like to set up housekeeping in a caboose or freight car — the situation the Alden children find themselves in.

When Miss Warner received requests for more adventures involving Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny Alden, she began additional stories. In each, she chose a special setting and introduced unusual or eccentric characters who liked the unpredictable.

While the mystery element is central to each of Miss Warner's books, she never thought of them as strictly juvenile mysteries. She liked to stress the Aldens' independence and resourcefulness and their solid New England devotion to using up and making do. The Aldens go about most of their adventures with as little adult supervision as possible — something else that delights young readers.

Miss Warner lived in Putnam, Connecticut, until her death in 1979. During her lifetime, she received hundreds of letters from girls and boys telling her how much they liked her books.

The Boxcar Children Mysteries

T
HE
B
OXCAR
C
HILDREN

S
URPRISE
I
SLAND

T
HE
Y
ELLOW
H
OUSE
M
YSTERY

M
YSTERY
R
ANCH

M
IKE'S
M
YSTERY

B
LUE
B
AY
M
YSTERY

T
HE
W
OODSHED
M
YSTERY

T
HE
L
IGHTHOUSE
M
YSTERY

M
OUNTAIN
T
OP
M
YSTERY

S
CHOOLHOUSE
M
YSTERY

C
ABOOSE
M
YSTERY

H
OUSEBOAT
M
YSTERY

S
NOWBOUND
M
YSTERY

T
REE
H
OUSE
M
YSTERY

B
ICYCLE
M
YSTERY

M
YSTERY IN THE
S
AND

M
YSTERY
B
EHIND
THE
W
ALL

B
US
S
TATION
M
YSTERY

B
ENNY
U
NCOVERS
A
M
YSTERY

T
HE
H
AUNTED
C
ABIN
M
YSTERY

T
HE
D
ESERTED
L
IBRARY
M
YSTERY

T
HE
A
NIMAL
S
HELTER
M
YSTERY

T
HE
O
LD
M
OTEL
M
YSTERY

T
HE
M
YSTERY OF THE
H
IDDEN
P
AINTING

T
HE
A
MUSEMENT
P
ARK
M
YSTERY