The Lost Treasure of Tuckernuck (23 page)

“Well, whatever. It's not like she didn't warn us,” Laurie said finally, adjusting her book bag. She wasn't even going to tell Jack she'd actually found the treasure. He'd just laugh his butt off when he heard what it was, and she really didn't need that right now.

“What do you mean?” Bud said.

“Oh, you know …” Laurie held out her hand and waggled her fingers impatiently. “Give me the first one—that first clue? What did it say?”

Bud handed her the first note from Maria Tutweiler.

Laurie scanned the clue for a second. “See? Listen to this.
‘Now it is time for you to make a choice. You can continue on and follow my clues wherever they may lead, or you may remain here, where you started.
'” Laurie gave Bud a significant look. “She basically told us right there that there was no point and we were going to end up right where we started. We were just too dumb to figure it out.”

They stared at the painting again for a second.

“Unless …,” Bud said tentatively. He glanced at Laurie.

“What?” Bud had a really weird look on his face that Laurie wasn't getting.

“Remember the back of that painting? Where the clue was?” Bud raised his eyebrows at her.

“Sure. There was that hole back there. And a rip …,” Laurie said slowly. One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Oh, man …”

It was like someone had shot off a starter pistol, they raced for the painting so fast. They didn't even bother to check to make sure the coast was clear before they lunged for it. Bud grabbed the side of the frame and tried to wrestle it to the ground, while Laurie lifted from the bottom, hoping to unhook it from the wall. A little manhandling later, the painting came loose, almost squashing Laurie underneath, but somehow they managed to keep it from smashing onto the floor.

“Anything?” Laurie gasped, struggling under the weight of the picture. The top of the frame was digging into her collarbone painfully.

“There's definitely something …,” Bud said, trying to maneuver around to see the bottom of the frame. His fingers were turning white from gripping the edge. “I can definitely see—”

But as close as she was, Laurie missed the rest of Bud's sentence. Because no matter how close you are, it's hard to hear when piercing shrieks are echoing off the walls.

Important Message

For: Police Chief Skip Burkiss

Skip, Betty Abernathy down at Tuckernuck Hall called—something about a theft or disturbance? She needs you to come out ASAP. Something about chickens, she was screaming too much and wasn't being clear. Also, don't forget I'm taking a half day tomorrow. Luralene

Bud and Laurie sat in Principal Winkle's office, staring at his empty desk. They could tell by the way everyone was whispering that they were in big trouble.

“I don't know which is worse,” Betty Abernathy hissed at them as she marched in and deposited a file on Principal Winkle's desk. “The thought that you were trying to steal the painting, or that you were just destroying it for your own malicious pleasure.”

“We weren't doing ei—” Laurie started.

“Hsst!” Betty Abernathy spit the word and glared. “Not a word! Not a word out of you until your parents arrive!” Then she stalked back out of the room without a backward glance.

Laurie nudged Bud. “I can't believe they won't even let us explain,” she whispered. “At least they sent Calliope home. It would stink if she were here gloating.”

Bud shrugged and gave a rueful smile. He didn't really understand what anybody was saying. Calliope Judkin had seen them through the office window and started screaming, and then rushed up and latched on to Bud until Miss Abernathy and Principal Winkle ran out. That girl had some vocal cords. His ears were still ringing.

He didn't really care what anyone said, though. They knew where the treasure was. And once they spilled those beans, nothing else would matter.

“Since Betty took it upon herself to alert the authorities, I thought it best that the children have parental representation for our talk,” Principal Winkle explained. Flanking him on the right and the left were Betty Abernathy, who looked like she wanted to grind Bud and Laurie up and feed them to the pigs, and Mrs. Hutchins, who looked pretty surprised.

Laurie slumped down in her chair. Her dad didn't seem mad, exactly, just a little confused. She and Bud hadn't had time to fill their parents in on anything. Bud's dad looked like he was going to freak out.

“So you believe our children were trying to steal from the school?” Mr. Wallace said. His voice sounded too loud in the little room. “You expect us to believe they were trying to steal
that
?”

He pointed to the Hilda portrait, which was now leaning up against Principal Winkle's wall.

“They were caught either stealing or destroying it.”

“Well, it would certainly match our decor, right, Bud?” Mr. Wallace gave a nervous laugh. Laurie wished he'd shut his mouth so they could explain. He really wasn't helping.

“We weren't—” she started.

“You don't have to say anything, Laurie,” her dad said. He had worry lines around his eyes.

“No, it's okay, because …,” she started, but Bud cut her off.

“We found the treasure,” Bud said nonchalantly.

Laurie glared at him. Trust Bud to steal her thunder.

“Yeah, we did. The two of us.” Laurie felt a little better once she'd staked her claim.

“I see,” Principal Winkle said carefully. Destructive children were one thing, but mentally unbalanced children meant he was definitely missing his dinner reservation, and maybe even the movie afterward too. “The treasure?”

“Come on!” Laurie rolled her eyes. “Maria Tutweiler's treasure? We found it, okay? It's right there.”

She pointed to the painting of Hilda, which was looking more mangy and disreputable than ever.

“She's right,” Bud said, smirking.

“Well, that's wonderful. Congratulations.” Principal Winkle looked significantly at the two dads. “If I might speak with the two of you”—he nodded his head—“outside.”

“No!” Laurie sat up. “Look, we found the first clue. And we solved it, right? And then that led us to the cat, except it was dead.”

“Dead cat. I see.” Principal Winkle wished he'd taken that child psych course over the summer. He looked at Olivia Hutchins, who shrugged helplessly. They'd seemed like two normal kids when school started.

“Show them, Bud. Show them the clues,” Laurie barked.

Bud slowly sat up, opened his notebook, and tossed the papers onto the desk. Then he sat back cockily and grinned.

“I don't see how that—” Principal Winkle started, but Olivia Hutchins suddenly leaned forward.

“That's her handwriting, Marty. Maria Tutweiler, that's her writing.” Her eyes were wide.

“What? Really?” He examined the papers with their spidery handwriting and picked up the lacy letter L.

Mrs. Hutchins picked up the final clue and read it, her hand trembling. “Where did you get these?”

Bud opened his mouth to answer, but Principal Winkle held up his hand to silence him. He stared at Laurie and Bud for a moment. “You found the treasure?”

Laurie and Bud both nodded.

Principal Winkle picked up the telephone. “I'm calling our lawyers. And then you two better start at the beginning.”

Banner on the
Morning News
website

BREAKING NEWS!

TUTWEILER TREASURE FOUND!

“It's not a myth after all,” say sources.

Full story in the
Morning News
!

“I can't believe we're doing this,” Mrs. Hutchins said, holding the matte knife between two fingers. “We're really going to cut into the back of this painting? It's an antique.”

“I checked with legal. We've got witnesses, we've got probable cause, we're covered.”

“Yes, but …”

“Take a look at it, Olivia. It's a chicken.” Principal Winkle hefted the painting onto his desk.

“Yes, but …”

“It's not just a chicken. It's a hideous chicken. If Tutweiler hadn't put it in the school charter, I would've gotten rid of it years ago.” Principal Winkle had never been a big fan of bad art.

Bud and Laurie exchanged glances. “What do you mean, put it in the charter?” Laurie said, taking the knife from Mrs. Hutchins.

“There were certain items that had to remain in the school. It was known as the Tutweiler rule. This painting is one of them.”

Bud groaned. “Let me guess. The bust of Homer is another one?”

“And that clock?” Laurie said. “That didn't tip you off?”

Principal Winkle sighed. “Apparently I wasn't as observant as I could've been. Anything unusual was chalked up to Tutweiler eccentricity. Now are we going to do this?”

He looked at the matte knife in Laurie's hand expectantly.

“Go to it, kids,” Laurie's dad said quietly. The dads had been relegated to the corner of the office with instructions to be quiet and stay out of the way. But it was harder than it looked.

“Actually, we may not need that,” Bud said, reaching out and picking tentatively at the rip in the paper. “I think it's just here.”

Slowly Bud tore back the brittle brown paper. But it wasn't the back of the Hilda portrait they found behind the paper. It was another large manila envelope fastened to a stiff piece of cardboard.

“It's got a false back,” Principal Winkle breathed. “All this time, it's had a false back.”

“Well, thank goodness we didn't have to hurt Hilda,” Mrs. Hutchins said. “I like her.”

Mr. Wallace opened his mouth to say something, but after Mrs. Hutchins fixed him with a glare, he wisely shut it again.

Bud pulled out the manila envelope and handed it to Laurie, who slowly undid the string fastener. Then she pulled out a large sheaf of papers.

Mrs. Hutchins immediately pounced on the bundle of boring-looking records while Laurie read Maria Tutweiler's last note aloud.

AT LONG LAST THE TREASURE IS YOURS.

CONGRATULATIONS! You have demonstrated the qualities of a true Tuckernuck Clucker—diligence, intelligence, good humor, and excellent problem-solving skills. I am happy to present you with the official Tuckernuck Spirit Stick, which you will find under Hilda's careful guard.

Principal Winkle pulled back a bit more of the brown paper backing. “Ah. Here we go,” he said, pulling out an elaborately carved wooden stick. He handed it to Bud.

“A stick?” Bud stared at it in disbelief. The treasure was a Spirit Stick? Sure, it was nice for a stick, but it was still just … a stick. “That's it?”

Laurie growled deep in the back of her throat. If she'd gone though all this just for a stick … “It better not be. Let me finish,” Laurie went back to the letter.

The Tuckernuck Spirit Stick carries with it great responsibilities. For these few months …

“Try years,” Bud said.

“Try decades,” Principal Winkle said.

“Shh!” Mrs. Hutchins and Laurie both hissed.

months, you have labored under the undignified moniker of Tuckernuck Clucker. As the first bearer of the Tuckernuck Spirit Stick, I give you and only you the power to change your school's identity, if you truly feel it is an undue burden on your classmates. Though I enjoy the lighthearted moniker, I will abide by your decision.

“Wow, for real?” Laurie dropped the paper down and gaped at the others.

“You're not going to do it, are you?” Principal Winkle said, trying not to look at his Clucker hat hanging on the wall. He was more than a little attached.

“Of course not! We won't let them!” Miss Abernathy said huffily.

“According to that, it's up to them,” Principal Winkle said.