Mystery of the Pirate's Map (2 page)

Grandfather took the bottle from Benny and looked at it. “The cork is so old that it would probably break if I tried to pull it. But I'll bet I could grind it out with a screwdriver.”

“I'll go get one,” Tom told him.

After Tom brought back the screwdriver, Grandfather pulled a lamp over to a nearby table and sat down. The others gathered around him. He stuck the head of the screwdriver into the neck of the bottle and began grinding out the cork. It was so old and dry that it broke apart easily. Once the neck tube was clear, Tom brought over a long pair of tweezers from his desk.

“I used to use these when I built ship models inside bottles,” he told everyone.

“Oh, so that's how that's done,” Violet said. She thought someday she'd like to try that.

Slowly and carefully Grandfather brought out the old piece of paper. Once it was on the table, he turned on the reading lamp, which was very bright. The children moved in closer. Then Grandfather gently unrolled the paper, and everyone gasped.

The paper had turned dark brown over the years, but the drawings on it were still clear. There were some trees, a few rocks, and some squiggly lines that seemed to imply water.

But it was the dotted line that grabbed everyone's attention. It started at the top of the paper and curved off to the left until it reached the trees. And that's where the X was. A very large, very dark X.

“Oh, my goodness!” Violet said.

“This looks like . . . well, like a treasure map, or at least part of one,” Grandfather said. “And what's this here?”

In the bottom right-hand corner, written in letters so tiny that it almost couldn't be seen, was the name “J. Finney.” Next to it was the number “4.”

“J. Finney. Who's that?”

All eyes turned to Tom. “You know, it does sound a little bit familiar, but I can't really—Hey! I wonder if it could be . . .”

His voice trailed off as he hurried out of the room. The others followed him into a little sitting area at the front of the house. On the coffee table were several books about the history of the town.

Tom plopped onto one of the couches and picked up a large black book with the title
Cherrystone Harbor, Yesterday and Today
on the cover.

“If I remember right, there was a little story in here about—yes! Here it is!”

He put the book flat on his knees so everyone could see. On the left-hand page was the heading “John Finney.” Underneath were a few paragraphs of text. On the other page was a painting of Finney. He was standing on the deck of his ship with his hands on his hips. His long hair was as black as night, as was his tangled mustache. His eyes looked mean, but his mouth was curved in a smile.

Tom handed the book over to Violet and said, “Why don't you read it for us, young lady?”

Taking the book onto her own lap, Violet smiled and swept her hair back behind her ears. “‘John Alexander Finney was one of the most colorful and eccentric pirates who ever sailed the high seas,'” she began.

Benny's eyes widened. “Wow! A real pirate!”

Violet continued, “‘He was the captain of his very first ship when he was only nineteen years old, and by the time he was twenty-five he had sailed halfway around the world. He was best known for his wild behavior. He and his men would dock at any port that caught their fancy and go inland for days, causing all sorts of trouble. Like all pirates, John was not only a sailor but also a thief. During his lifetime he stole hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of dollars' worth of gold, silver, and jewelry.

“‘When he got older, he decided to hide all the treasure he'd stolen over the years. Then he drew a map that showed its exact location. But he didn't want anyone to find it too easily, so, during his last sailing journey, he cut the map into four pieces and hid each piece in a different part of the world. Over the years, three of the four pieces have been recovered, but the fourth has yet to turn up. It is known that John Finney stopped in Cherrystone on his famous final voyage, so it is possible that he hid the fourth and final piece here during that visit. But so far no one has found it. And this piece is by far the most interesting, because . . .'”

“What's it say, Violet?” Jessie squealed. “Don't keep us in suspense!”

Violet looked up. “‘. . . because very near the last piece of the map, so says the legend, lies the treasure.'”

A
fter a night of dreams about John Finney's treasure, the Alden children awoke to breakfast on Tom's front porch. Jessie and Violet both chose fresh fruit and toasted bagels. Benny chose his favorite, cereal and milk. Henry had scrambled eggs and crisp bacon. But the food went down slowly because the children were too busy talking about what they were going to do after they found the treasure.

“I'm going to buy my own pizza parlor!” Benny told his siblings. “Then I can have all the pizza I want!”

“I'm going to get more art supplies,” Violet said. “And then I'll take some classes so I can draw better pictures.”

“What's wrong with the ones you make now?” Benny asked.

Violet smiled.

“What would you do, Jessie?” asked Henry.

“I don't know. I'd probably just give the money to Grandfather. He's done so much for us.”

The other children nodded. That did sound like a perfect idea.

Grandfather came onto the porch at that moment, followed by Tom. They both had their plates with them.

“So what's the plan for today?” Tom asked as he took his seat and jabbed a fork into his eggs.

“We're going to start at the local library,” Henry told him. The others nodded. This was what they had decided last night, just before they went to bed. “Maybe we can find information about the other pieces of the map. Once we know what the other three pieces look like, we can start hunting for the treasure.”

“Sounds good,” Tom said. “This should be fun for you kids.”

“We love mysteries!” Benny said enthusiastically.

“So I've heard. You've solved quite a few, haven't you?” asked Tom.

“Yes, sir. Lots of them,” Benny replied.

“Well, don't forget about the beach. I heard on the radio this morning that the water's supposed to be warm all week,” said Tom.

Grandfather took a sip of his orange juice, then said, “You know, I was thinking about something last night. Something about this treasure.”

“What's that, Grandfather?” Jessie asked.

“It might be best if you didn't mention it to anyone. I know it's exciting and everything, but you should keep it to yourselves.”

The children looked at one another in confusion. “Why?” Jessie asked.

“Because I'm sure a lot of other people would love to get their hands on the last piece of the map. Remember, John Finney's treasure is probably worth a fortune, and there are plenty of people who would love to find it. With the help of that piece, a person could become very, very rich.”

“But we're not trying to get rich, Grandfather,” Violet explained. “We just want to have fun
looking
for the treasure.”

“Solving the mystery!” Benny reminded them.

“I know that, children,” Grandfather replied. “But there are other people who want the treasure only so they can get rich.”

“And some of them will do almost
anything
to get it,” Tom added.

“Are we in any kind of danger?” Benny asked.

“No, not as long as no one else knows,” Grandfather assured them. “You haven't told anyone else, right?”

Henry answered for all of them. “No, we haven't said anything to anybody.”

They all went back to their meals, and Henry went back inside to get more juice.

Then Jessie suddenly cried out, “The photographer!”

Tom was so surprised by this that he dropped his fork in his lap. “What?”

“The photographer!” Jessie said again. “Remember, Violet? The lady at the beach as we were leaving?”

“Oh, yes,” Violet said. “I do remember.”

“What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“A lady with a camera took a picture of the bottle,” Jessie said.

“Really?” Grandfather asked.

“I think she was just walking around, taking pictures,” Violet offered. “It was a pretty day.”

Tom nodded. “Oh, sure, a lot of people do that when they come here.”

“Is it something we should worry about?” Jessie asked.

“I don't think so,” Tom told her. Then he asked, “But aside from this lady photographer, no one else knows?”

“No,” Jessie said. “No one. I'm sure of it.”

“If we're lucky, maybe we'll find pictures of the other three pieces today,” Violet said. “Then we can go looking for the treasure before we head back to Greenfield.”

Out on the sidewalk, a young girl came along on a bicycle. A canvas pouch was tied to the handlebars. She reached into it and pulled out a newspaper with a rubber band wrapped around it, which she then threw onto the front step.

Violet opened the door and picked up the paper. The color picture on the front page caught her attention right away.

“Oh, no . . .” she whispered.

Everyone turned. “What, Violet? What's the matter?”

She pulled the rubber band off the paper and unfolded it so everyone could see. “Look at this!”

Right on page one was a photograph of Benny proudly holding up his bottle. And the headline underneath, in huge letters, screamed, COULD THIS BE THE MISSING PIECE TO JOHN FINNEY'S PUZZLE?

Tom jumped out of his seat. He looked at the picture closely, then turned the newspaper sideways to read the name of the photographer. It was written in very small print up the left side.

“Oh, no wonder . . .” he muttered.

“No wonder what, Tom?” Grandfather asked.

“Meredith Baker,” Tom said.

“Who's that?” Violet asked.

“She's a local lady. Everyone knows her. Of all the people who had to be there when Benny found the bottle . . .” Tom said.

“What do you mean?” Jessie asked.

“She's very nosy, very chatty, and she's always looking for something to do. As soon as she got the picture developed, she probably went right to the newspaper. A lot of people around here know that this is one of the places John Finney's treasure might be buried. I'm sure the newspaper reporters figured it out right away.” Tom sighed and looked at Benny. “Well, so much for keeping it a secret.”

The secret of Benny's discovery was out now, and nothing could be done about it, so the children went to the town library as planned. They walked in and went straight to the information desk. The woman who was working there, a younger lady with dark hair and glasses, smiled at them. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“We're looking for a book on buried treasures,” Jessie said carefully. She didn't want to say too much.

“Well, our computer catalog is right over there,” the woman said, pointing to a long table in the middle of the room with a row of computers on it. “Just follow the directions on the screen. It's easy; you'll see.”

“Thank you,” Jessie replied.

The librarian had been right—the computer catalog system was very easy to use. The children decided to do a subject search for any books about treasures and treasure hunting. There turned out to be eight titles available. As Jessie called out the Dewey decimal numbers, Henry wrote them down on a piece of scrap paper. The library helpfully supplied a small pile of scrap paper and a cupful of pencils next to each computer.

The children went to find the books, and it took them only a few minutes. Henry and Jessie immediately began searching through the index of each one to see if John Finney's treasure was mentioned.

Violet said, “I'm going to browse through one of the computers for anything else that might help,” then went back to the long table in the main room.