That evening, after an early dinner, the four Alden children met in Jessie and Violet’s room.
“We just have to help Seymour and Rose solve this mystery,” Violet was saying as she leaned back against two of the lacy white pillows piled on the bed.
“All this is very upsetting for them,” Henry agreed, “especially since they think the burglar may be someone who works for them.”
“I hope it’s not,” Violet said.
“I hope not, too,” said Henry. “But a burglar who works here would be easier to catch.”
“True,” Jessie agreed. She pulled a notebook and pencil out of her blue duffel bag. “We should make a list of all the people who work on this farm and who know about the entrances to the passageway.”
“Well, there’s Jeff and Mike,” Violet said, “the ones we met at lunch.”
“The ones who’ve been working on the farm since they were in high school.” Jessie was busy scribbling in her notebook.
“Mike seemed awfully quiet once the robberies were mentioned,” Violet remarked.
“I don’t think Mike and Jeff are really suspects,” Henry said.
“What makes you so sure?” Jessie said, holding her pencil poised over her notebook.
“Seymour has known them too long, and nothing has ever been taken from the farm before,” Henry answered.
“That’s true.” Jessie tapped her pencil on her notepad.
“Well, that leaves Veronica and Martin, the two high school kids who just started working on the farm this year,” Violet said.
“The ones we haven’t seen yet,” Jessie said, looking up from her notebook.
“We should ask Seymour if we can meet them tomorrow,” Henry said.
“And we should also try to find Benny’s ghost. Right, Benny?” Jessie looked over at her brother, only to find that Benny had fallen sound asleep and was snoring gently.
“It’s been a long day,” Jessie whispered.
Henry nodded as he carefully picked up Benny to carry him off to bed.
The next morning the Aldens woke up just before sunrise. “It was the rooster,” Benny told Grandfather at breakfast. “It was the rooster that got me up so early.”
“That’s his job,” Grandfather said, laughing.
As soon as breakfast was over, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny hurried to the barn to help Seymour feed the animals.
They watched carefully as Seymour milked the cows. “I do it the old-fashioned way,” he said as he sat on a pail beside one of his cows and began pulling at her teats. Milk squirted into another pail under the cow.
“Many farmers use milking machines now,” Seymour explained. “But I don’t have enough cows for a machine. It’s easier for me to milk them this way.”
“I’d like to try to milk a cow before I leave,” Henry said.
“Oh, I trust you’ll have the chance,” said Seymour, chuckling. “But right now, if you like, you can brush down the horses.”
“Sure,” said Henry, grabbing a brush.
“Hey, that’s my job.” A tall, thin girl with shiny brown hair tied back in a ponytail strode into the barn. “I always brush the horses,” she said haughtily. “They’re used to me.” The girl wore blue jeans, a red-and-black-plaid wool jacket, riding boots, and a red bandanna around her neck. Her blue eyes flashed as she glared at Henry.
“Now, Veronica,” Seymour said gently. “It’s good for the horses to have other folks brushing them down once in a while. They need to get used to other people.”
Veronica continued to glare at the Aldens as Seymour introduced them to her.
“Are you used to horses?” she asked Henry, who was still holding the brush. “Do you know how to groom them properly?”
“Well, not really,” Henry was forced to admit.
Veronica rolled her eyes.
“That’s all right, son,” said Seymour. “Veronica or I can teach you all you need to know. Isn’t that right, Veronica?”
Veronica sighed heavily. “How long will you be staying here?” she asked.
“About a week or two,” Jessie answered for all of them.
“Well, that’s hardly worth taking the time to teach you,” Veronica remarked.
“Now, Veronica,” Seymour spoke sharply, “the Aldens are my guests. They’ve already been a big help to me, and I will thank you to treat them politely. If you don’t feel like showing them what needs to be done, then I’ll teach them myself.”
Veronica scowled. “I’ll show them,” she said sullenly.
Veronica and the Aldens spent the next hour together feeding, grooming, and brushing the horses, while Seymour mended some fences outside. Veronica showed the Aldens what had to be done by doing most of the work herself, while they watched.
“Now, I don’t want you riding Hazel or Mister Mist without my permission,” Veronica was saying as she brushed Mister Mist. “They’re not used to strangers. They only like it when I handle them. Seymour says I’m the best rider on this farm — the best rider in this whole town, in fact.”
“We wouldn’t ride them without asking anyone,” Jessie said.
“Good.”
Henry cleared his throat. “It’s a shame about those robberies, isn’t it?”
Veronica stiffened. “What robberies are you talking about?”
“You know, the robberies on this farm,” Jessie said. “Someone stole Seymour’s stamp collection and some old letters written more than a hundred years ago.”
Veronica frowned. “No one told me,” she said. “When did this happen?”
“A few days ago,” Henry answered. “At least that’s when Seymour noticed that the stamp collection and letters were missing.”
“He’s missing a sword, too. A sword from the Civil War,” Benny added before he noticed Jessie’s face warning him to keep quiet.
Veronica looked puzzled. “You mean someone stole a sword out of that musty old passageway?”
Henry nodded.
“I don’t like to hear that there were burglars near the barn because that means the horses could be in danger,” Veronica said as she fluffed up Mister Mist’s mane.
“From what Seymour said, these burglars are after antiques, not animals,” Henry pointed out.
“Well, still, I worry. If anything happened to these horses, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“You seem to care for these horses very much,” Violet said, softening a little toward Veronica.
“Well, of course. Who wouldn’t?” Veronica exclaimed. Then she frowned suddenly and turned away from the Aldens to hang the grooming brushes back on the wall. “I have to go home now. I mostly just help with the horses now that the picking season is over.”
“Have you been working here long?” Henry wanted to know.
“Have you been here long enough to see the ghost?” Benny asked.
“No and no.” Veronica actually smiled for the first time that morning. “I began working for Seymour this fall because he needed the extra help, but I’ve known Rose and Seymour all my life, practically. I live just down the road.”
“Why have you never seen the ghost if you live near here?” Benny asked.
“Well, to tell you the truth,” Veronica began in a superior tone of voice, “I don’t believe in ghosts. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen it.” With that, Veronica spun around and walked out of the barn before the Aldens could say anything more.
“Boy, is she rude,” Jessie muttered.
“She wasn’t so bad, once we got her to talk more,” Violet remarked.
“But she’s such a show-off.” Jessie was almost sputtering. “She hardly let us touch her precious horses, and they’re not even her horses, really. And did you see the way she acted when we mentioned those robberies?”
“Yeah, she looked kind of uncomfortable. And then she told us she’d never heard about them,” Henry said.
“We’ll have to watch her,” Jessie said.
“We should watch everybody,” Henry advised.
“Now, don’t you mind Veronica too much,” Seymour told the Aldens when he walked back into the barn. “She acts all high and mighty, especially when it comes to the horses, but she’s all right.”
Jessie was not convinced.
“Seymour?” Benny began. “You believe in the ghost, don’t you?”
“Benny, to tell you the truth, I’ve never actually seen it. But people have noticed signs.”
“What kind of signs?” Benny sounded eager.
Seymour chose his words carefully. “Well, Benny, some of the farm workers say they’ve heard things.”
Benny nodded. “Grandfather told us about that,” he said.
“And some say they’ve actually seen markings on the trunks of the apple trees. Markings carved by a knife of some sort,” Seymour continued. “They think those markings are the work of the ghost because no one else would mark those trees up.”
Benny’s eyes were very round.
“Do you believe a ghost made those markings?” Violet asked.
Seymour’s eyes twinkled. “Well, now that you mention it, there is another explanation for these markings,” he answered.
“There is?” Benny couldn’t believe it.
Seymour nodded. “When my children were little, they used to make carvings in those trees with their penknives. But when I caught them doing that, I made them stop.”
“So, those markings are pretty old, then,” Henry remarked.
“Yes, most of them are, but Jeff told me he’s been seeing some new ones. He thinks it’s the work of kids in the neighborhood.”
“It could be the work of the ghost,” Benny said firmly.
“Could be,” Seymour said. “That’s what a lot of people think.”
“This we have to see!” Henry exclaimed.