The Mandie Collection (58 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE TOOLS?

Mandie ran and ran until she was panting for breath. She brushed tree limbs and bushes out of her way and stumbled over the rough ground. Then a pain in her side slowed her down. Stopping by a huge chestnut tree to catch her breath for a moment, she suddenly thought she heard something in the thick woods. She could hardly hear anything except her own hard breathing, but somehow another sound caught her ear.

Her heart pounded. She stood perfectly still, trying to hold her breath as she listened. There it was again! Someone was tromping through the bushes. The noise grew fainter and then went off into the distance.

Mandie immediately hurried to her left in the direction of the old tumbled-down cabin. If she could only reach the clearing and grab the tools, she would have something to protect herself with, coming back.

She should be getting close. There was the faint sound of the creek. As she came into the clearing, she breathed a sigh of relief and ran to the place where she remembered dropping the hoe.

“Oh, where is it?” she cried to herself, looking all around. “It's got to be here somewhere. Let's see, I was right here by the old
steps, and Uncle Ned stood the axe by the chimney. Where is that hoe?”

Although she searched thoroughly for the hoe, it was not to be found. She circled the chimney. The axe had also disappeared. Someone had been there, evidently as soon as they left.

Mandie was really afraid now. Someone had those dangerous tools, and she was alone. The afternoon sunlight was growing dimmer inside the thick forest.

Clasping her hands in front of her, she looked through the treetops toward the barely visible sky.

“Dear Lord, what time I am afraid I will put my trust in Thee,” she whispered aloud.

There
, she thought,
God will see me safely back to the school. I don't have to worry anymore
. Taking a deep breath, she ran back into the trees and headed for the schoolhouse.

Without looking back or slowing down to listen for noises, she ran and ran until she came to the edge of the forest. Stumbling up the hill, she collapsed halfway to the top, out of breath.

She was safe now. The sun was still shining. The schoolhouse was in sight. Staring back at the forest while she regained her breath, she relaxed a little and didn't hear anyone approaching behind her. Suddenly there was a loud yell, and Mandie almost jumped out of her skin. Quickly turning around, she scrambled to her feet. When she saw it was only Celia running down the hill, she fell to the ground in relief.

Celia, a little short of breath from running, just stood there looking at Mandie.

“Oh, thank goodness it's you!” Mandie cried.

“If you don't hurry, you're going to be late for supper,” Celia warned. “Come on, let's go!” Pulling Mandie up, she turned to go back up the hill with Mandie following.

At the top, arriving on level ground, Mandie questioned her friend. “Celia, when did you, and Miss Hope, and April get back?”

“A long time ago,” Celia replied. “Miss Hope came back early. I looked everywhere around the school, but I couldn't find you, so I
decided to walk down the hill, and there you were,” she explained. “What happened?”

“I'm pretty sure we've found the cabin, Celia. But after Uncle Ned left and Joe went back to Grandmother's, I suddenly remembered we forgot to bring the tools back,” Mandie explained, relating her adventures back through the woods alone.

Celia's eyes grew big as her friend told her about her journey into the woods, the noise she heard, and the disappearance of the tools.

“Mandie, please don't ever go back there again
alone
. Something might happen to you.”

“Don't worry, I won't,” Mandie promised.

Celia hugged her friend, and the girls hurried back to the house. “I suppose I must look a sight after going through all those bushes,” Mandie said, reaching up to smooth her long blonde hair.

Celia stood back and looked at her. “Not really,” she said. “You don't look as though you've been roaming through that forest. Just straighten your sleeves a little bit and tie your sash.”

Mandie did as her friend suggested. Together they hurried down the hallway and joined the line of students as they were entering the dining room.

Almost bursting to swap details of their afternoon adventures, the girls quickly cleaned their plates and impatiently waited for everyone else to finish. When Miss Prudence stood and tinkled her little silver bell to dismiss the students, Celia and Mandie were the first ones through the door.

Rushing up the stairs, they collapsed across their bed. “You first, Celia,” Mandie said. “Tell me about the farm.”

“It's enormous. Miss Hope said it has several thousand acres,” Celia reported. “And most of it is used, for either cattle or crops.

But there are a few acres of woods. And guess what?” she paused.

“Uncle Cal's mother and his brother run the farm.”

“They do?” Mandie looked confused. “Uncle Cal's mother must be awfully old.”

“She's
real
old.” Celia nodded. “They say she's still the boss out there, but her son really runs things. He's not as old as Uncle Cal.”

“Did April behave?” Mandie asked.

“I suppose so,” Celia replied. “She went off by herself as soon as we got there. Then on the way home she asked Miss Hope if it would be possible to bring some of the horses up to the school so the girls could take riding lessons,” she said.

“April doesn't know how to ride? I'd imagined everyone knew how to ride a horse,” Mandie mused.

Celia laughed. “I sure do. Horses are our family's business in Richmond, you know.”

“Well, I guess some of these city slickers never learned,” Mandie said.

Celia sat up on the bed. “Tell me what you and Joe and Uncle Ned did,” she begged.

Mandie related all the details of the afternoon to her friend, including the fact that Uncle Ned thought the cabin had burned down.

“So you think that's the cabin in the woods where the sweethearts used to meet?” Celia asked.

“Well, there's not much left of it, so I'm not positive. But I'm pretty sure.” Mandie thought for a minute. “I just can't imagine who took the tools or why,” she said, sitting up. “Why don't we try to talk to Miss Hope tonight? Her group must be finished with supper by now. Maybe we could ask her some questions.”

Celia stood up. “I'm ready if you are,” she replied.

The girls found Miss Hope in her office alone.

“May we come in, Miss Hope?” Mandie asked from the open doorway.

“Why, of course, girls. Come on in. Sit down,” she invited. “We just wanted to ask you about something that we're curious about,” Mandie began.

“Yes, Amanda, what is it?” Miss Hope asked.

“You told us that you and Miss Prudence bought this house from a widow lady. Do you remember her name?” Mandie asked.

“Why, yes. She was Mrs. Scott,” the schoolmistress answered, “I believe her whole name was Mrs. Hortense Howard Scott.”

“Is she still living?” Celia asked.

Miss Hope thought for a moment. “I don't remember hearing of her death. In fact, we never saw her again after she left here,” she said. “But she must be dead by now. That was forty-five years ago, and she was rather old
then
.”

“Do you know if her daughter is still living? You told us she had a daughter who married and left her alone,” Mandie said.

“No, I'm sorry. I never met the daughter. In fact, I don't believe we even knew who she married, or where she lived. Mrs. Scott didn't go to live with her. She went to her sister's in Charlotte,” the schoolmistress answered. “May I ask what brought on this sudden interest?”

“We were sorting all those things in the attic and we figured most of it must have been Mrs. Scott's. You said she left things here when she moved out,” Mandie said.

“Yes, most of it did belong to Mrs. Scott. She told us they were things for which she no longer had any use, and she asked that we dispose of them. But we got busy and never really cleaned out the attic,” Miss Hope explained.

“Are you and Miss Prudence the only ones who have actually lived here since you bought the house?” Mandie asked.

“Why, yes, except for the students,” she replied.

Mandie cleared her throat nervously. “Miss Hope,” she said in a rather shaky voice, “were you adopted?”

Miss Hope gasped in shock. “Adopted?”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Celia answered.

“Why on earth would you ask me such a thing?” the schoolmistress asked.

“You and Miss Prudence don't look at all alike,” Mandie told her. “We thought you might be adopted, or you and Miss Prudence might have different fathers, or something.”

“Amanda, what are you saying?” the lady asked. “Different fathers?”

“I'm sorry, Miss Hope. I didn't mean anything bad.” Mandie fumbled for words. “I meant that maybe your mother's husband died, and then she remarried, and you belonged to one husband and Miss Prudence to the other,” she said, her face turning red.

“No, no!” Miss Hope replied. Rising quickly, she began tidying her desk. “Now if that's all you girls wanted to talk about, I'm sorry, but I have work to finish here.”

The girls stood up.

“I'm sorry, Miss Hope. I know you're always busy,” Mandie said.

Miss Hope smiled and said, “Never too busy to talk to you girls, Amanda.”

“Thank you, Miss Hope,” Mandie replied.

“We appreciate your time, Miss Hope. Good night,” Celia added.

The girls returned to their room to rehash the conversation.

Mandie sat on the window seat in their room. “We didn't get much information, did we?” she said.

Celia plopped down beside her. “No, I guess not,” she agreed. “Miss Hope did seem flustered when you asked her if she was adopted. What do you think?”

“I'd say she might have been adopted and didn't want us to know it for some reason. She did act a little nervous, and then right away she said she had work to do,” Mandie said.

“I suppose if a person is adopted, they don't want to go around talking about it. I know I wouldn't,” Celia confessed.

“I suppose,” Mandie agreed. “Joe is coming back tomorrow at three-thirty. We'll see what he's got to say about solving this mystery in the letters.”

“Where are the letters?” Celia asked suddenly.

“In the second bureau drawer where I put them last night, remember?” Mandie said, going over to pull out the drawer.

“Celia, someone has been in here!” lamented Mandie. “Look at all the mess.”

The letters
were
still there, but it was easy to see that someone had been rummaging through them.

Celia came up behind her and bent to get a closer look.

“It looks like someone took them all out of their envelopes,” Celia said, picking up a handful of the papers. “See?”

“You're right,” Mandie agreed. “Let's put them all back inside.” As the girls began carefully returning the fragile letters to their envelopes, Mandie spoke her thoughts aloud.

“I wonder who did this,” she said. “Whoever has been snooping must have gotten into these letters after three-thirty. I opened the drawer to check on them just before I went downstairs to meet Joe this afternoon. They were all right then.”

“We may never know who it was,” Celia said.

“Well, I know one thing,” Mandie said. “We're going to hide them this time.”

“But where?” Celia asked.

Mandie thought for a moment. “Let me see,” she said. “Hey, I know. We can put them all in an extra pillowcase and attach it to the back of the bureau where no one can see it.”

“The back of the bureau? How are we going to do that?” Celia asked.

“I remember seeing some nails in the attic. I think the hammer is still up there, too. Let's go get them,” Mandie said. “But first let's put these letters under our mattress till we get back.”

The girls carefully hid the letters. Then carrying their oil lamp for light, they hurried upstairs to the attic to get the nails and hammer.

“Here they are,” Mandie said, finding a paper bag of nails.

“And here's the hammer,” Celia replied, picking it up.

“We only need two or three nails, so that's all I'll take,” said Mandie. “We can bring the hammer back later.”

Back in their room they retrieved the letters from under the mattress. Finding an extra pillowcase in a drawer, they stuffed the letters inside.

The big oak bureau was heavy, but with quite an effort, they were able to move it far enough away from the wall to tack a nail in the back side. Celia tied a knot in the top of the pillowcase, and they hung it on the nail.

“Whew!” Mandie said as they pushed the heavy bureau back into place. “This day has been full of hard work.”

“You are right!” Celia agreed.

“I don't think anyone will find them now,” Mandie said, satisfied with their work.

But no one else had to. Someone had already read them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE STORM IN THE GRAVEYARD

“Hello, Mandie. You and Celia are to come back with me to your grandmother's for supper tonight,” Joe told the girls as he alighted from Mrs. Taft's buggy the next day. He handed Snowball to Mandie. “She sent a note to Miss Hope, and I have to give it to her. I'll be right back,” he said, running inside.

Mandie rubbed Snowball's fur. “You have to behave this afternoon, Snowball. No running off. Do you hear?”

Celia stood next to Mandie and petted the little white kitten. “Mandie, I appreciate your grandmother always including me in her invitations,” she said. “But maybe sometimes you might want to go to her house alone so you could talk together without me around.”