The Mandie Collection (71 page)

“Can you get down the rope ladder?” Mandie asked.

“Oh, sure,” he answered. “All I have to do is slide.”

“I'll go first,” Joe offered. He still didn't trust the stranger.

Celia went down next, then Phineas.

As Mandie followed, Snowball fought against going down the ladder. He kept jumping off Mandie's shoulder into the belfry. After three tries, Mandie gave him a little swat and said, “Now you look here, Snowball! We are going down that ladder, and you might as well behave!”

Joe, watching the scene from below, climbed halfway up the ladder and reached for the kitten. “Give him to me,” he told Mandie. “I can slide down with one hand.”

Snowball squealed with anger as Joe grabbed him and held him tightly in one hand while he made his way down with the other. The kitten squirmed and tried to scratch as Joe landed below.

Mandie jumped off at the bottom and reached for the kitten. “Thanks, Joe,” she said.

“Watch out,” he warned her. “This cat is mad, and he's trying to scratch.”

Mandie held the kitten tightly in both hands. He hushed his loud meowing and cuddled in her arms.

Joe shook his head in disgust, and the young people and Phineas headed downstairs.

As they approached Ben in the sanctuary, the Negro man stood up, looked at the stranger and asked, “Who dat be whut y'all got dere?”

“This is who we've been looking for all this time,” Joe answered. “He's the answer to the mystery.”

Ben just stood there with his mouth open.

“Come on, Ben,” Mandie said. “We're taking him home to Grandmother.”

After they were all in the rig, Ben flicked the reins and coaxed the horses to a fast pace. When the Negro driver pulled the rig into Mrs. Taft's driveway, Phineas Prattworthy looked amazed.

“Your grandmother lives here?” he asked.

Mandie climbed down from the rig. “Yes, my grandmother is Mrs. Taft,” Mandie explained. “Come on.”

Phineas stepped down beside her. “I know who Mrs. Taft is,” he said. “I had no idea you were talking about her when you mentioned your grandmother.”

“You know her?” Mandie asked, petting Snowball.

The others got down from the rig and stood around, listening.

“I knew your grandfather, Mr. Taft,” Phineas told her.

Joe urged them all to go into the house. “I'm cold and hungry,” he complained.

Inside, they left their coats in the hallway and ushered Phineas into the parlor where Mrs. Taft sat reading by the fire. Snowball jumped down and ran off down the hallway. Mrs. Taft rose quickly and stared at the man.

Phineas spoke first. “How are you, Mrs. Taft?” he asked, nervously.

“Phineas!” Mrs. Taft exclaimed, hurrying over to greet the man. “It is Phineas, isn't it?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm Phineas Prattworthy,” he replied.

“Where in the world have you been all these years, and where did these young people meet up with you?” Mrs. Taft asked. “Please come and sit down.”

Mandie and her friends sat down, speechless, on low stools in front of the fireplace.

Phineas took the chair opposite Mrs. Taft. “Well, I fell on some hard times after y'all left Franklin, and I came over to the mountains to live,” he said. “The tax man took all my property.”

“You mean you lost that great big beautiful home?” Mrs. Taft looked deeply concerned. “Oh, Phineas, how sad.”

“My wife died suddenly with the fever right before we had to vacate the property,” Phineas continued.

“Phineas, I'm so sorry,” Mrs. Taft said.

The man fidgeted nervously. “I just had one son, Paul, you know, so he and I rented a small farm up in the Nantahala Mountains. We
couldn't make much of a living out of it, but we didn't starve,” he said with a weak smile. “Then I had a stroke and was helpless for a long while. I'm not much good anymore. About the time I was beginning to walk again, Paul came down with the flu and died.”

“I'm so sorry,” Mrs. Taft said again. “But just saying I'm sorry won't help. What can I do for you?”

“Grandmother,” Mandie jumped into the conversation, “we found Mr. Phineas hiding in the church. He's the one who has been messing up the bells and everything.”

Mrs. Taft looked shocked. “Phineas! You were doing that?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied. “I'm afraid I'm guilty.”

As he retold the story, Mrs. Taft sat staring at him in amazement.

“I can't explain why I did all those strange things at the church,” he said. “I just almost went crazy not knowing what to do to get somebody to help me.”

“I just can't believe that anyone could accuse you of such a thing,” Mrs. Taft exclaimed. “Well, we'll just have to get this all straightened out. I'm well acquainted with Mr. Simpson, the grocer, and I think he'll understand when we tell him the story.”

Dr. Woodard joined the others in the parlor after having made rounds in town and checking on Hilda. “Phineas!” he exclaimed in surprise. “How did you get here? The last time I saw you was when I doctored you for that stroke—about a year ago, wasn't it?”

The story had to be told again, and Dr. Woodard listened attentively. When Phineas told the doctor that he didn't know why he did such strange things in the church, Dr. Woodard looked thoughtful.

“There are a lot of things that can cause a person to behave abnormally,” the doctor told him. “Losing your wife, your son, and your house, and having that stroke all in such a short period of time was a lot for a person to bear. And then being unjustly accused and malnourished and living without any heat in that church most of the time—it's no wonder something snapped.”

“Then I'm not crazy?” Phineas asked.

“Not likely,” Dr. Woodard replied. “I think once we get this thing cleared up and get you well fed and cared for, you'll be back to your old self again.”

Mandie smiled at Joe and Celia, satisfied that she had done the right thing in bringing Phineas to see her grandmother.

“That grocer may give you a fight, though,” Dr. Woodard added.

Mrs. Taft spoke. “I told Phineas we would get this all straightened out for him. We'll just go talk to Mr. Simpson.”

“I'm afraid that won't work, Mrs. Taft,” Phineas said. “I tried to talk to him, and he wouldn't listen at all. He has his mind made up and won't change it.”

“We'll see that he changes it, won't we, Grandmother?” Mandie said.

“Yes, we will,” Mrs. Taft said confidently. “We'll have something to eat in a little while, and then we'll just go visit Mr. Simpson.”

Mandie turned to Dr. Woodard. “How is Hilda this morning, Doctor?” she asked.

“I was just upstairs when y'all came in,” Dr. Woodard replied. “She is still just lying there. That bout in the snow and the church certainly didn't help her condition.”

Mandie explained to Phineas. “Our friend Hilda ran away from here yesterday,” she said. “She's a girl my grandmother has living with her. Hilda has been real sick with pneumonia, and then suddenly she disappeared out of her bed. We finally found her in the church late yesterday afternoon. Did you happen to see her?”

“That must be the girl I saw come into the church in her nightclothes,” Phineas replied quickly. “She was mumbling something to herself and then lay down on the floor. I thought she went to sleep. I found some old choir robes in a box in the attic and a little rug that was behind the altar, and I tried to wrap her up.”

“Are you the one who started the fires in the stoves, then?” Mandie asked.

“Yes,” Phineas answered. “It was so cold in the church I was afraid she would die. Then I remembered seeing the woodpile out behind the church, so I just gathered in enough wood and got the stoves going to keep her warm.”

“Oh, how can we thank you, Mr. Phineas! You probably saved Hilda's life,” Mandie told him.

“Hilda's not right mentally, Phineas,” Dr. Woodard explained. “And she's always running off somewhere.”

“I had no idea who she was, but she looked like she needed help,” Phineas agreed.

“The Lord will bless you for your kindness, Phineas,” Mrs. Taft said.

“Imagine that,” Joe said with a little laugh. “He was the one who covered up Hilda and started the stoves. One more piece of the mystery solved.”

Ella came in to announce that the noon meal was on the table.

After a leisurely meal, Mrs. Taft announced that she was going to visit Mr. Simpson, the grocer, and the young people could go with her if they wished.

Mandie, Celia, and Joe excitedly put on their wraps in the front hall.

“After a busy morning tending to the sick, I think I need a couple hours of rest,” the doctor said. “And Phineas ought to stay here out of sight until we're sure Mr. Simpson won't cause trouble.”

“I'll stay here and soak up some of that warmth from the fireplace if it's all right with you, Mrs. Taft,” Phineas added.

Mrs. Taft agreed.

Ben drove the rig sedately down the streets of Asheville. With one hand he kept flipping the key he had found in the church. He had no idea as to what it unlocked, or who had lost it, but somehow the key fascinated him. When he got a chance he would ask Missy Manda to tell him what the writing on it said.

He pulled the rig up in front of Mr. Simpson's grocery store. Mrs. Taft asked him to wait there for them.

Inside the grocery store Mr. Simpson, an overweight, bald-headed man in his middle forties, came forward to greet Mrs. Taft.

“This is a pleasure, Mrs. Taft,” he said. “What can I do for you today?”

“We seem to have a problem that I think you can help us with,” she replied. Then she explained the situation with Phineas Prattworthy. “He isn't guilty,” she concluded.

“Oh, Mrs. Taft, I beg your pardon, but he is,” the grocer protested. “Why, he was in here not more than ten minutes ago, stealing canned beans. I saw him.”

“Ten minutes ago?” Mandie spoke up. “Mr. Simpson, it couldn't have been Mr. Phineas. He has been with us at my grandmother's house for the last three hours at least.”

“That's right,” Mrs. Taft confirmed. “We just left him there with Dr. Woodard.”

“Please tell me, what does this Phineas Prattworthy look like?” the grocer asked.

“He has a bad leg from a stroke about a year ago, and—” Mrs. Taft began.

“That's the one. He limped,” the grocer interrupted. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Taft, but if you don't bring him in, I'll have to ask the sheriff to come out to your house and get him.”

“Oh no, you won't,” Mrs. Taft replied angrily. “You are not going to have Phineas Prattworthy arrested—not while he's in my house.”

Joe stepped forward. “Mr. Simpson, there is definitely a mistake here,” he told the grocer. “Mr. Prattworthy did not steal from you. It must be someone who looks like him.”

“I don't have to identify him,” Mr. Simpson argued. “I know him by his limp, and he's a stranger in this town.”

Several other customers in the store edged closer to listen to the conversation.

“You have caused Mr. Prattworthy much distress by your false accusations. Why, he had to hide in the church to keep you from putting him in jail,” Mrs. Taft said.

“Yes, you told me he had been doing all that damage at the church—ringing the bells wrong and writing all over the walls,” Mr. Simpson shot back. “That proves that the man is deranged.”

The other customers gasped.

“Phineas Prattworthy is not deranged any more than you are, Mr. Simpson,” Mrs. Taft snapped. “You drove him to do all those things.”

“I can only say that unless you bring him down here first thing in the morning, I'll ask the sheriff to go to your house after him,” Mr. Simpson threatened. “Now, I'm sorry, but I have customers to wait on.”

“I'll get the best lawyer in the state and sue you for false accusations if you press any charges against Mr. Prattworthy,” Mrs. Taft promised. She turned to go. “Just be sure you remember that, Mr. Simpson.”

The young people followed Mrs. Taft back out to the rig, Mandie took her grandmother's hand. “You were great in there, Grandmother,” she said with admiration. “You handled it just the way I'd have done.”

Mrs. Taft smiled and patted Mandie's hand. “I know, Amanda, dear,” she said, stepping up into the rig. “You're so much like I was when I was your age.”

The young people climbed into the rig.

“Now what are we going to do?” Joe asked as Ben picked up the reins.

“We're going to find the real crook,” Mrs. Taft replied.

“But how?” Celia asked.

“It was probably some poor farmer around here who didn't have any money to buy food,” Mrs. Taft reasoned. “I don't know any other reason a person would steal food from a grocer. I'm not sure how we'll find him, but we will.”

When they returned to Mrs. Taft's house, they found Dr. Woodard asleep on the settee in the parlor, but there was no sign of Phineas Prattworthy.

“Sh-h-h!” Mrs. Taft whispered. “The doctor needs his rest. Don't wake him.”

After quickly checking the front part of the house, they still couldn't find Phineas.

Annie met them in the hallway and told them what had happened. “Dat man whut was heah,” Annie began, “he say tell you, Miz Taft, he have to go find de crook. He say you unnerstand.”

Mrs. Taft let out a big sigh. “Thank you, Annie,” she said. “I know what he meant.” Looking at the young people in disappointment, she said, “Now, why did he do that? The law may very well catch him if Mr. Simpson tells the sheriff who he thinks has been stealing from him. Oh, dear!”

“We'll just have to go find Phineas,” Mandie said.

“I doubt that we could find him,” Joe remarked. “He's pretty good at hiding.”