Chapter 12

Ronnie went directly to his room when he reached the house. Bill and he had decided that this would be the best place to keep the old ledger after what had happened at their office. And since Bill couldn’t be sure whom he had seen at the window, they had to protect their new possession against an unknown adversary. Anybody, really, could be under suspicion. “I saw him out of the corner of my eyes,” Bill had told Ronnie afterward. “When I swung my head around he was gone. All I know for sure is that he was wearing something red. That’s what first caught my attention.”

“I don’t remember Caldwell wearing red,” Ronnie had said.

They had searched the area outside their office as soon as the initial surprise had worn off, but had failed to catch even a glimpse of the man. And then the search had been interrupted by the arrival of two cars, and by the time they’d taken the two groups around, it was too late to continue hunting.

Now Ronnie stretched out on his bed with the old volume propped up against his pillow. He wanted to rereadhis great-great-grandfather’s notations and do some thinking about them.

A little while later he got up to find a pencil and a piece of paper. He sat down on the edge of the bed with a magazine beneath the paper. At the top of the paper he wrote: “THE IMPORTANT THINGS I’VE FOUND OUT FROM READING GREAT-GREAT-GRANDFATHER’S DIARY.”

Then underneath he began to jot down each important fact:

1. Great-great-grandfather didn’t murder Mr. Jacob Williams the way people think.2. This Mr. Williams was the one who was stealing the glassware and money, not Great-great-grandfather. Williams tried to pin it on Great-great-grandfather.3. Great-great-grandfather, just before he wrote in this ledger, had found the glassware and money (and Jacob Williams’ body, too) somewhere “down below.”4. I guess Williams’ son knew about the stealing, and Great-great-grandfather was afraid he’d destroy the ledger if he found it so he could protect his father’s name.5. Just before he died, Great-great-grandfather hid the ledger in the fireplace because he couldn’t get to the house.

1. Great-great-grandfather didn’t murder Mr. Jacob Williams the way people think.

2. This Mr. Williams was the one who was stealing the glassware and money, not Great-great-grandfather. Williams tried to pin it on Great-great-grandfather.

3. Great-great-grandfather, just before he wrote in this ledger, had found the glassware and money (and Jacob Williams’ body, too) somewhere “down below.”

4. I guess Williams’ son knew about the stealing, and Great-great-grandfather was afraid he’d destroy the ledger if he found it so he could protect his father’s name.

5. Just before he died, Great-great-grandfather hid the ledger in the fireplace because he couldn’t get to the house.

When Ronnie had finished, he stretched out on his back with his knees up in the air and the paper resting against them. He read over what he had written. Most of the ideas were interesting because they proved Great-great-grandfather’s innocence. But onlyNumber Threeseemed to be any help at all in finding the hidden glassware and money. And this one was so vague, Ronnie couldn’t see that itwould be much help either. “Down there” could be anywhere on the face of the earth! Well, maybe notthatlarge an area, but anyway it could mean the whole deserted village. And Ronnie couldn’t see Bill and himself digging up the whole village to find the lost glassware and money.

Ronnie rested his head back against the bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking. Surely Great-great-grandfather must have wanted his heirs to find the lost articles, and if he did, he certainly would have given adequate directions for finding them. “Why, ‘down there’ must mean underneath the old office building,” Ronnie thought, “because that’s where Great-great-grandfather was when he wrote this!”

It was a startling discovery, and its possibilities set the boy’s heart racing. Wouldn’t Grandfather be surprised when Ronnie placed the diary before him and announced, “There, Gramps, there’s the proof you wanted about Great-great-grandfather Ezra!” Wouldn’t Gramps smile then!

But maybe it would be better to wait until he had the glassware and the money. Then Gramps’ eyes would really open wide. Yes, that’s what he’d do—throw the whole thing at Gramps all at one time!

Ronnie wanted to run from the house and down through the orchard to the village and then tear every board loose from the floor of the old, padlocked building until he knew for sure that he had figured correctly. He got up from the bed and went to the window. The sun was sinking fast. In another hour or two it would be dark, too late in the day to start his search. Besides, he wanted Bill with him when he found the glassware and money. He decided to make a trip to the kitchen to see how Mrs. Butler was getting on with supper.

“Lands sake!” she exclaimed when he asked her how long it would be before he could eat. “Land sakes, you’re getting as bad as your brother—always thinking of filling your stomach.”

“Well, it’s the right time of the day to be thinking of that,” he told her. “Say, where’s Phil, anyway?”

“I suppose he’s in the living room with your grandfather and that Mr. Caldwell who came to see the candlesticks a while ago.”

“Heis!” Now wasn’t that a fine kettle of fish, he thought. Here he was missing out on a very important event while he dawdled around in the kitchen talking with Mrs. Butler.

He hurried down the hall. The door to the living room was partially closed. Ronnie poked his head through the opening. The two Rorth candlesticks were standing on the desk. Mr. Caldwell was seated near them and Grandfather directly across from him. Phil was lolling on the couch, his bare feet resting on the wall and his head propped up with a pillow. He seemed more interested in the comic magazine on his chest than what was going on in the room.

Grandfather caught sight of Ronnie. “Come in, boy. Come in.”

Ronnie pushed the door open the rest of the way and came over to sit on the floor near Grandfather’s chair.

“I have just finished explaining to Mr. Caldwell that if he really has a pair of candlesticks like these,” Grandfather said to Ronnie, “and if they have come down to him through the family, then I guess we can be pretty sure he’s related in some way to the Jacob Williams who was a partner of your great-great-grandfather.”

Ronnie gulped. Grandfather had told Mr. Caldwell all this? But, why?Why?

His amazement must have shown in his face, for Grandfather gave him a searching look and explained gently, “It’s got to be that way, Ronald. There would be no advantage in keeping the information from him. You see, the Seaway has learned of the unsettled title to the deserted village land. At first I thought this would help me—I thought they would be snarled up in such legal troubles that it would be better for them to build the dam the way we want than to be held up for a year, maybe more, fighting us in the courts. But it doesn’t work that way, I learned. The Seaway just puts half the value of the property away in a bank in trust, and if and when the person who’s got a claim on the land shows up, why, the money’s there and waiting.”

“I see,” Ronnie said. Only he didn’t, not really.

“This way the whole affair’s settled, once and for all.” He looked closely at Ronnie to see how the boy was taking what he had said.

“Confound it, Ronnie,” he went on, his face flushing slightly. “Confound it, you don’t think Ilikewhat’s going on, do you? I’m still fighting, boy, fighting for the village. And saving the village from being destroyed, that’s the important thing. Maybe with Mr. Caldwell as a half-owner, we’ll add strength to our side of the fighting. Seems to me this man’s kind of keen on saving the village, too.”

Ronnie looked over at Caldwell. “Are you, Mr. Caldwell?” he asked. He wasn’t seeing Caldwell, not really. He was seeing the man who had slipped into the padlocked building that afternoon, the man who had overturned furniture and thrown the family papers about on the floor.

“Very much so, Ronald,” Mr. Caldwell answered. He spoke with genuine feeling. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to accuse him, Ronnie told himself. He had never made a positive identification. And yet—yet there were so many times that Ronnie hadalmostbeen sure.

“This comes as such a complete surprise,” Mr. Caldwell was speaking again. “I shall certainly have to look into the matter. I suppose there are agencies that will trace a family tree?”

Grandfather nodded. “I’d get myself a good lawyer, if I were you. He’ll tell you if you’ve got claim to the property.”

“My brother was the one who was interested in our family tree—and the family history of the candlesticks. As a boy, he was always snooping through old trunks and boxes in the attic.” Caldwell went over and stood before the candlesticks, touching the glass crystals lightly and lovingly with the tips of his fingers. “Beautiful, beautiful workmanship,” he said.

“Why don’t you ask your brother?” Phil rolled over to a sitting position. “Maybe he’s been holding out on you. Maybe he knows all about the property.”

Mr. Caldwell did not look around. “I—I’m afraid that’s impossible,” he answered finally. “He’s—away.”

Ronnie brought his knees up against his stomach and then wrapped his arms about his legs to hold them close. He looked over at Caldwell. How much did the manreallyknow? Was this all a put-up job—pretending he had no knowledge of his relationship to Jacob Williams? Acting as if he didn’t know a thing, so Ronnie would not connect him with his mysterious prowlings about the village?

Ronnie sighed. It was all very puzzling. But somehow he couldn’t believe that Mr. Caldwell was guilty of deceiving them. Ronnie had to admit to himself that he liked the man.

The room had grown darker. Off in the distance Ronnie heard the low rumble of thunder. The back door slammed shut and Mr. Rorth came down the hallway and poked his head into the room. “Hi, everyone,” he said cheerfully. “Mr. Caldwell, how are you? By the way, I dropped some screen doors and windows off at your place, but I didn’t have time to put them up. I left some nails and a hammer, though, and you can tack them up temporarily.”

“Many thanks!” Caldwell said. “I can certainly use the screens! I never knew there were so many insects in the world until I came here. Too bad you left the hammer, though. I have one of my own.”

Whose hammer, Ronnie wondered? Caldwell’s—or was it the one that had disappeared from Bill’s barn?

The room grew another shade darker. A brilliant flash of lightning dispelled the darkness for a brief moment, and then the thunder broke. The house vibrated from the sound.

Mr. Caldwell moved toward the door. “I’d best be going before the storm breaks.”

“Come along,” Mr. Rorth offered, “and I’ll take you most of the way in the truck. You’ll never make it before it rains.”

The truck was hardly out of sight when the rain fell in torrents. Ronnie, at the living room window, watched the puddles grow deeper and deeper. The rain turned to hail and beat against the pane like a kettledrum solo. A streakof lightning split the black clouds and pierced the earth. Almost immediately a crack of thunder seemed to explode overhead. The rain fell heavier.

Ronnie turned from the window and let the curtains fall back into place. Grandfather got up from his chair. “I might as well do a little DXing while I wait on supper to be served up,” he announced. “Ronnie, does that sound interesting to you?”

“I don’t think so, Gramps. Really, you shouldn’t DX during a thunderstorm.”

“Fiddlesticks! Rubbish! If the lightning’s got your name written on it, it’ll strike you no matter what! Besides, what’s there left for me around here now?”

He stomped from the room as fast as his cane would permit. Phil turned over heavily on the couch, bringing his magazine around with him. Ronnie watched his brother for a moment, then turned and left the room.

He went upstairs to his bedroom because he could think of nothing better to do. For a while he stood by his window watching the storm. Below, he saw his father’s truck drive into the yard and come to a quick stop. Mr. Rorth got out and ran for the back door.

And down in the deserted village Ronnie saw another figure running in the rain. The figure appeared out of the trees and ran toward the rear wall of the padlocked building. It disappeared from sight behind the building. Ronnie waited for it to reappear, but the minutes passed without another movement in the village.

The boy remembered Great-great-grandfather’s words in his diary: “His body lies below, together with the evidence of his guilt.” There was no doubt in the boy’s mind nowwhat his great-great-grandfather had meant. Down below the padlocked building, of course.

And Ronnie remembered, too, how savagely the stranger had attacked the interior of the building that afternoon overturning furniture, pounding on the walls, scattering the papers.

It wouldn’t be long, Ronnie realized, before the man would begin to rip up the floor boards.

“Bill and I havegotto get there first!” he told himself.

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