The Mandie Collection (62 page)

“No, Miss Prudence,” the girls said, again quickly exchanging glances.

Although the girls were curious about these modernization efforts, they dared not question Miss Prudence. The headmistress had a way of making a person look dumb. They'd find out about all this from someone else.

“Now, young ladies,” Miss Prudence said, “we will return our thanks.” After waiting for the girls to bow their heads, she spoke, “Our gracious heavenly Father, we thank Thee for this food of which we are about to partake, and we ask Thy blessings on it and on all who are present. Amen. Young ladies, you may be seated now.”

With the noise of scraping chairs, the girls sat down. The dining room held only half of the students. Mandie and Celia were in the first sitting.

Mandie kept an eye on April Snow throughout the entire meal, but the girl never once looked across the table. April completely ignored Mandie and Celia, quickly disappearing as soon as the girls were dismissed.

Mandie and Celia joined the other girls in the parlor after the meal.

Mandie looked around. “April Snow isn't in here,” she said quietly to Celia.

“Maybe we should go back to our room,” Celia suggested. “She might be up to something.”

“You're right. Let's go.”

They cautiously entered their room, fearing that the mouse might be there or that April might be lurking nearby. But the room was empty.

As Mandie looked around the floor for the mouse, she noticed white powder along the mopboard. “Aunt Phoebe must have put something on the floor to kill the mouse,” she remarked.

“She said she was going to put out something,” Celia agreed.

The girls sat down on the window seat and looked out into the early winter darkness. The wind blew hard against the windowpane, but the fire in their fireplace kept the room cozy and warm.

“I wonder how April got Miss Prudence's permission to swap seats at the table,” Mandie mused. “You know she has never allowed that before.”

“At least not while we've been going to school here,” Celia added.

“April must have finagled that while we were gone home for Thanksgiving,” Mandie decided. “I just know she must have been the one who put the mouse in our chifforobe.”

“But how would she catch the mouse in the first place?” Celia wondered aloud.

“I sure wouldn't want to catch a mouse. Ugh!” Mandie shivered at the thought. She changed the subject. “What did you think of Miss Prudence's announcement at supper?”

“It'll be nice to have lights overhead, won't it?” Celia replied. “We have that kind at home, and it makes a big difference. We'll be able to see to read better at night.”

“I suppose so,” Mandie answered. “We don't have electricity or radiators, you know. My Uncle John has enough money to afford it. I don't know why he doesn't get all those things done. It would be less work for everybody. Even the church downtown here in Asheville has lights run by electricity, you know.”

“But they don't have heat with radiators. Remember all those iron stoves sitting around the sanctuary?” Celia said.

“I know. Maybe Grandmother would donate enough money to put in the heat someday,” Mandie speculated. “I suppose sooner or later everybody will have all these new lights and heat.”

“Talking about the church, do you think we'll ever find out who that man and woman in the church were?”

“Probably. If we just keep working on the mystery of the bells, I think we can solve the mystery of the strangers, too,” Mandie replied, thoughtfully leaning her elbow against the window. “I'm still puzzled about that loud thumping noise and whatever made the belfry shake while we were up there. I believe everything that has happened is all connected.”

“I think so, too,” Celia agreed, watching her feet for any sign of the mouse.

There was a knock at the door and Aunt Phoebe came in and looked around. “Y'all ain't seen no sign of dat mouse no mo,' has y'all?”

“No, Aunt Phoebe,” Mandie replied. “Maybe the stuff you put around the mopboard got him.”

“Stuff 'round de mopboard?” the Negro woman asked. “I ain't put nothin' 'round de mopboard. Where?”

“That white stuff down there.” Celia pointed to some of it by the bureau.

“Lawsy mercy, Missies. I ain't put dat on de flo,' ” the old woman said, bending to look closely at the white powder.

“Then I wonder who did and what it is,” Mandie said, stooping down beside her.

Aunt Phoebe stuck her finger in the white powder and smelled it. Straightening up, she looked on top of the bureau, picked up Mandie's powder jar and opened it. “Heah be whut dat is,” she said. “Somebody done dumped all yo' bath powder on de flo.' ”

“Oh, for goodness' sakes!” Mandie exclaimed. “What is going to happen next?”

“I comes to tell y'all I be up heah fust thing after y'all goes to yo' schoolrooms in de mawnin,' ” Aunt Phoebe informed them. “I be gwine to put some liquid stuff dat you cain't see 'round de flo.' But it stink good, so I waits fo' y'all to leave yo' room. And jes' y'all 'member. Dis liquid stuff deadly poison.”

“We'll be careful about dropping anything on the floor,” Mandie promised.

“Dis stuff be dried up in no time after I puts it 'round,” Aunt Phoebe told them. “Jes' leave dis white powder, and I'll clean it up in de mawnin.' ”

“Thank you, Aunt Phoebe,” Mandie said. “April Snow probably did it, but we don't know for sure.”

“I he'p you watch out fo' dat girl,” the old woman said, shaking her head as she walked out the door. “She gwine hafta stop dis nonsense.”

“Maybe we ought to talk to Miss Hope about the things that are going on,” Celia suggested.

“What could we say?” Mandie asked. “We don't have any proof. Let's go find April and follow her around to see what she's doing.”

“That's a good idea,” Celia agreed.

The two girls left their room, walking slowly down the hallways, looking about for April Snow. She was nowhere to be seen. They returned to the parlor. There she was, sitting alone in a corner, reading the newspaper while the other students sat around talking.

Mandie and Celia looked at each other, then took a seat in two vacant chairs near Etrulia and Dorothy, a girl they didn't know very well.

Etrulia turned to them and said, “We've all been reading the newspaper. They say the whole town is angry about the bells in the church downtown. And now, because the bells are ringing thirteen times, they claim something bad is about to happen.”

“That's just superstition,” Mandie said. “The bells couldn't cause something bad to happen just because they're ringing wrong.”

“I know that,” Etrulia conceded, “but you know this town is full of superstitious people. They can really get everyone wound up about something like this.”

“What else does the newspaper say?” Celia asked.

“Oh, there are several articles about it,” Etrulia replied. “When April finishes reading it, y'all ought to look it over. Someone has even been writing on the back wall of the church.”

Mandie and Celia looked at each other.

“When does this newspaper come out? What time of day?” Mandie asked.

Etrulia looked puzzled. “I suppose it comes out in the afternoon,” she replied. “At least that's when the school gets it. You know it takes hours and hours to set up the presses and print it and then deliver it. I imagine they work on it all morning and then deliver it in the afternoon. That's what my father does. He owns the newspaper back home.”

“You mean whatever news the paper has in it would have been collected early in the morning in order to be out in the afternoon?” Mandie questioned her.

“As far as I know, all the news has to be in by eight o'clock in the morning in order to be printed for the afternoon,” Etrulia answered. “Why are you asking all this?”

“I was just curious about when the writing on the church wall was discovered,” Mandie replied. “It must have been early this morning or last night, then.”

“Yes,” Etrulia agreed. “I sure hope they catch whoever is doing such disgraceful things.”

Mandie nodded. “I do, too,” she said.

Etrulia moved on across the room with some of the other girls while Mandie and Celia talked quietly.

“So we know the writing wasn't done while we were in the church,” Mandie said hardly above a whisper.

“That's right,” Celia agreed. “It would have had to be a lot earlier.”

“Maybe someone did it in the dark when no one could see them,” Mandie suggested. “I'm just itching to solve this mystery.”

“Well,” Celia said with a sigh, “as soon as Friday comes, we can get started.”

April laid the newspaper down and walked over to the piano as one of the girls began playing.

Mandie picked up the paper. The front page was full of news stories about the town's reactions to the bells ringing the wrong hour and the vandalism at the church. The only other news item on the front page was a story of a bank robbery in Charlotte the week before, which officials were still investigating.

So many things are happening
, Mandie thought,
and they don't seem to be related at all
.

CHAPTER FOUR

CONCERN FOR HILDA

Aunt Phoebe used the rat poison in Mandie and Celia's room the next morning. As she promised, it soon dried up, and the odor went away. There was no sign of the mouse, alive or dead.

As the week dragged by, April Snow seemed to avoid Mandie and Celia, and they didn't go out of their way looking for her, either. They did, however, stay alert for any mischief she might do.

Finally, Friday came.

Mandie and Celia, with their bags nearby, sat waiting in the alcove near the center hallway of the school. They watched through the floor-length windows for Ben to come in Mrs. Taft's rig.

Mandie sprang from her chair. “I hear him coming!” she cried, grabbing her bag. “I know Ben's driving. He's just aflying.”

As the rig came within sight, the girls hurried outside onto the veranda. They were so excited about leaving school for the weekend that they didn't even feel the cold north wind blowing around them. The sky was cloudy with a promise of rain or possibly snow.

Ben halted the rig in the curved driveway, and the girls ran down the steps. Joe Woodard was with him.

“Joe!” Mandie exclaimed. “I didn't think you'd be in town until tomorrow.”

Joe, tall and lanky for his fourteen years, jumped down from the rig and held out Snowball, Mandie's white kitten. “Well, I could go home and take Snowball with me, and come back tomorrow,” he teased.

Mandie snatched the kitten from him and cuddled it. “Now, Joe,” she said, “you know I'm glad you could come today. We're just snowed under with mysteries.”

Joe ran his long, thin fingers through his unruly brown hair. “Fixing to get into trouble again, are you?” he teased.

Ben put the girls' bags in the rig and everyone climbed aboard.

“No, we aren't,” Mandie argued.

“Not if we can help it,” Celia added.

Ben held the reins loosely in his hands and waited for a lull in the conversation. “Is y'all ready to proceed now?” he asked. “Miz Taft, she say hurry back. We better git a move on.”

“Of course, Ben. Let's go,” Joe said.

With a slap of the reins, the horses took off at a fast trot down the cobblestone streets toward Grandmother Taft's house.

Joe listened as the girls related what had happened since they returned to school. “And I suppose y'all want me to help solve this problem of the bells ringing wrong,” he said.

Ben drew the rig up in Mrs. Taft's driveway.

Mandie smiled sweetly. “Of course,” she replied, jumping down from the vehicle.

“Yes,” Celia agreed, following Mandie. “Three heads are better than two.”

Joe's long strides caught up with the girls as Ella, the Negro maid, opened the front door.

“Miz Taft, she be in de parlor,” Ella informed them. “Ben, you take dem bags on upstairs. Miz Taft, she be in a hurry to see dese girls.”

“Yes, ma'am, Miz Housekeeper,” Ben replied sarcastically. He took the other bag from Joe and headed for the stairs.

Joe's father, Dr. Woodard, waited in the parlor with Mrs. Taft. After exchanging greetings, the young people sat down together on a nearby settee.

Mandie cuddled Snowball in her lap. “I'm glad y'all could come a day early, Dr. Woodard,” she said.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Well, you see, your grandmother sent for me.” He looked to Mrs. Taft to explain.

“Sent for you?” Mandie looked at her grandmother, puzzled.

“Now, don't get excited, Amanda,” Mrs. Taft said. “But Hilda is sick. She—”

“Hilda? Sick?” Mandie interrupted. “Is it bad?”

“Amanda,” Mrs. Taft reprimanded. “Please wait until I have finished talking before you get excited. Yes, Hilda is sick. She has pneumonia—”

“Pneumonia!” Mandie cried. “That's what took my father out of this world. Oh, is it bad, Dr. Woodard?” She dropped Snowball into Joe's lap and ran to stoop at Dr. Woodard's knee.

Dr. Woodard smoothed her blonde hair. “I'm afraid it could get bad,” he said. He had been Jim Shaw's doctor back in the spring in Swain County.

Mandie jumped up. “Where is she?” she demanded. “Where is Hilda?”

“She's upstairs in her bedroom, dear,” Dr. Woodard replied. “We've got a special nurse staying with her.”

“I want to go see her,” Mandie said, turning to leave the room.

“No, Amanda!” Mrs. Taft called sharply. “Hilda is not allowed to have any visitors. We don't want everyone else to catch this and come down sick, too.”

With tears in her blue eyes, Mandie turned back and dropped onto the settee.