Benny said, “Mr. Beach thought Uncle Max might have a clue. He’s going to take Mrs. Beach and the boys to see Uncle Max tomorrow. He wants to explain about the telescope. He asked if we would come, too.”
“I’d like to,” Jessie said. “But do you think we’d be in the way? I’m sure Sammy and Jeffrey haven’t had their mother and father take them anywhere very often.”
Henry said, “The boys think their parents are more interested in their work than in the things their sons do. It’s too bad.”
“But Mr. Beach asked us,” Benny said. “Their car won’t hold all of us. Henry, why don’t you drive our station wagon?”
That was the way it turned out. Violet and Benny looked at each other when Mr. Beach said, “Come, Sammy. You sit with me. Then we can talk. Jeffrey, you hold the spyglass and sit with your mother.”
As Henry started the car he heard Mr. Beach say, “I wish Max were doing better with his restaurant. So few people use the Shore Road that he hasn’t any customers.”
Jeffrey nodded. “That’s right. But he’s the best cook in the world.”
Sammy said, “And Uncle Max likes to see people enjoy his cooking. It makes him happy.”
“The trouble is that Max won’t let anyone help him,” Mr. Beach said.
Suddenly Sammy said, “Maybe we can help him with some ideas. I think that would be all right.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Mrs. Beach.
Uncle Max could hardly believe his eyes when the car drove up to his door. He came down the steps and shook hands with his brother.
He said, “John, how wonderful to see you! Welcome, everybody, and come right in.”
Sammy said, “We told you we’d be back.”
“Yes, you did. And I knew you would, too. Come and sit down.”
Sammy couldn’t wait any longer. “Look, Uncle Max—here’s the telescope!”
“You found it? Where?” asked Uncle Max looking in surprise from Sammy to Jeffrey.
“In a knothole in the oak tree,” Jeffrey said.
“Well!” Uncle Max said, and then he thought a moment. “I believe the man from next door who helped us build our tree house must have put the telescope in the knothole. He just forgot to tell us. I’m sure now it was that kind man.”
Mr. Beach said, “That’s what we think, too, Max. I didn’t have it, and you didn’t have it. Nobody had it.” And he shook hands with his brother again.
“And we’ve got more news. A surprise and a mystery!” Sammy sat down on a stool and whirled around. Everyone else sat down at the big table.
“Sammy is right,” said his father. “It is a mystery. Let the boys tell it. Maybe you can help solve it.”
The two boys told about the round window and how they could see it with the telescope. Then they told about the hidden room and all the toys.
Uncle Max began to frown. “Oh, I wish I could remember,” he exclaimed. “I never knew about that room. But I did know the name of the family who lived there long ago. Now what was it?”
“Try the alphabet,” said Jeffrey.
They all laughed, but Uncle Max began. “The name didn’t begin with A. And it didn’t begin with B. Now, C! I think it must have been C. Cook? Collins? No, those names aren’t right.”
“Cooper,” suggested Mrs. Beach.
“Carter,” said Jessie.
“Wait!” Uncle Max said. “Carter sounds almost right. Let me think. I know. Carver! That’s the name. I’m sure of it.”
Everybody looked happy and clapped.
“My father told me that a family named Carver built the house many years ago. It was at least a hundred years old when we lived in it.”
“Too bad I wasn’t interested in such things when I was a boy,” Mr. Beach said. “Can you remember anything else that might give the children a clue about the room?”
Max shook his head. “I’ll try to think of something else. But if I were there, I’d hunt some more in that room. There might be letters or papers or something else that would be a clue.”
His brother laughed and said, “I’m sure the boys and the Aldens will go over every inch of that room, Max. And now let’s talk about you.”
Uncle Max looked unhappy. “The diner isn’t doing very well,” he said. “But that’s not your worry, it’s mine.”
“It’s mine,” said Sammy. “I want to worry about you, Uncle Max.”
“Thank you, Sammy,” said Uncle Max. “I suppose I ought to close the diner and work at something else. But I do love to cook and see people eat.”
Mrs. Beach said, “Then you should not close the restaurant, Max. People ought to do the things they like to do. Never mind just working for money.”
Benny looked around. He said, “I think people like to eat where it’s bright. It seems dark here.”
Jeffrey added, “Maybe a new name would help. We used to go to the Jumping Jack Restaurant in New York just because we liked the name. The food wasn’t as good as yours.”
Jessie said, “I think people have forgotten about your place because they don’t use this road much any more. You need to do something special to make them want to come.”
“I could try a new name,” said Uncle Max. “And I could put in more windows myself.”
The Beaches and the Aldens talked about the restaurant until lunchtime. Then John Beach found out what delicious food his brother could cook. He and his wife had a chicken salad, but all the children had hot dogs.
When Henry and Mr. Beach started to pay Uncle Max, he said, “Oh, no! You are invited to lunch.”
Henry said, “No. It is silly for you to take in eight people for nothing.”
“My grandfather wouldn’t like it if we didn’t pay,” Benny said.
Uncle Max had to take the money.
When they were riding home, Jeffrey said, “Let’s go right up to the room and hunt around again. We might find something we missed.”
“And I haven’t even seen it,” Henry said.
“Nor I!” Jessie added.
J
essie and Henry looked around the little room that Violet, Benny, and the Beach boys had found. It looked brighter and not as spooky in the afternoon light. The big rocking horse still had some of its gay colors.
“How shall we begin?” Sammy asked.
Henry said, “Suppose you two boys take the bed. Look at everything. Don’t miss a thing. Take off all the bedclothes and the mattress.”
Sammy said, “I know. Maybe there’s something hidden in the mattress. Come on, Jeffrey.”
“Be careful,” Jessie warned. “These things are old and some of them may break.”
Henry said, “Violet and Jessie can take the desk. Benny and I can look at the rest of the room.”
Jeffrey and Sammy pulled the bed away from the wall. They took the blanket off. They shook the pillow. They pulled the sheet back and looked at the mattress.
After a few minutes Jeffrey said sadly, “I guess there aren’t any clues here.”
“Put the things back then,” suggested Violet.
Just as Sammy was putting the pillow down he looked at it and stopped. “We didn’t see this before! Look, there are letters here on the pillowslip.”
Everybody came over to look. In tiny cross-stitch embroidery there were two letters, W and C.
“The C must stand for Carver,” Jeffrey guessed. “But what about the W?”
“Think!” said Benny. “Maybe the W stands for the little boy’s first name. It could be Walter or William.”
“Or Wally,” said Sammy. “Come on, maybe we can find something else.”
Violet and Jessie took out every drawer of the desk. They were all empty. Violet put her hand into the empty spaces for the drawers to see if she could find a secret drawer. But there was nothing to find.
Jessie was looking at the top of the desk. “Look at this—here are some letters carved on the desk with a knife. It isn’t very plain. Let’s see. Here is a W and this must be an I.”
Violet looked too. “There are two L’s and a Y,” she said.
“WILLY!” everybody shouted at once.
“I bet the little boy was named Willy Carver,” said Sammy. “That goes with the initials on the pillowslip.”
Benny and Henry had looked all around the window and door but they had found nothing. They looked at the old toys and shook the red slippers. But they could not find any new clues.
Jessie said, “Come on, Violet. Let’s put the drawers back in the desk. Too bad it’s all empty.”
The big rocking horse stood in the center of the room. Sammy patted its head. He ran his hand over its mane. He touched the saddle.
“Look,” he called. “I think the saddle comes off. Help me undo this buckle.”
Everyone gathered around. Violet unfastened the buckle. Benny helped Jeffrey lift the saddle. As the boys did so, something slipped from the rocking horse’s back and fell to the floor.
Sammy crawled between the rockers and lifted the paper carefully. He handed it to Jessie. “You take it, Jessie,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll tear it.”
“I’m almost afraid to touch it myself,” said Jessie. She took the folded paper. “It’s a little book,” she said. “Only four pages long.”
The old paper was folded twice and pinned with a rusty pin to make a little book.
Sammy said, “Somebody drew a picture of the rocking horse on the cover.”
Sure enough, there was a picture of the horse. It showed a little boy sitting on its back. Underneath was printed “My Pony.”
Jessie turned the pages carefully. “It looks as if somebody wrote a story,” she said.
“Read it,” Sammy begged.
“Yes, read it,” they all said.
The writing was faded and hard to read. Jessie read slowly.
“‘This is a true story,’” she began. “‘It is Willy’s favorite story. Once upon a time there was a little boy named Willy. Every summer he came to Grandma Carver’s house. Grandma loved Willy. She made a little room just for him up under the roof. Willy likes his little room.’”
Violet said, “Oh, Jessie, somebody must have written all that down for Willy. Maybe he liked to hear it at bedtime. Go on.”
Jessie read on. “‘Willy has special toys at Grandma’s. The most special of all is a rocking horse. It has been in Grandma’s family for years and years. Many little boys have ridden it. Now Willy loves to ride it. He calls it his pony. The End.’”
“That’s all?” Jeffrey asked.
“Yes,” replied Jessie. “That’s the end.”
“We have two real clues,” Benny said. “We know the little boy’s name. And we know he came to visit his grandmother here. He didn’t live here all the time. But why do you suppose the room was all closed up?”
“Well, that’s still a mystery,” said Henry.
Benny looked over at the toys he and Henry had found. He looked at the ball, the toy horn, and the little train engine. Suddenly something made him stand still.
“Wait,” Benny said. “I’m getting some sort of idea. That horn reminds me of something.”
Everyone stared at Benny. Nobody laughed. Then Benny smiled. “I know! Do you remember when we made the casserole?” he asked.
“Yes,” Jessie said. “But what has that to do with this room?”
“Mrs. McGregor!” Benny said. “That’s what! She told us when she was a little girl she came to this house for a birthday party. She remembered something about a toy horn and a little boy.”
“It must have been Willy Carver’s party!” Violet exclaimed. “If we tell her about this, maybe she can remember something more.”
“Come on,” Benny said. “Let’s show her the horn and see.”
Mrs. McGregor was in the kitchen. She dusted flour off her hands and smiled at her visitors. She listened to their story and picked up the old toy horn.
“Oh, deary me!” she said. “How well I remember this little tin horn! The little boy had it for a birthday present. The boy in the sailor suit.”
“That’s good!” said Benny. “That’s a good clue, Mrs. McGregor.”
Mrs. McGregor still held the little tin horn in her hands. She said, “I wish I could tell you more.”
“You have told us a lot,” said Violet. “Maybe if we knew when the party was it might help. At least we would know when the room was still open.”
“That’s right,” agreed Henry.
Mrs. McGregor thought for a minute. “Let me see. It was before we moved to the farm. I was five then. So the party must have been when I was about four years old. That would be 1910. Yes, it must have been the summer of 1910. I’m sure it was summer. I had a sunbonnet.”
“A name and a date,” Benny said. “That ought to help us. But I don’t know how yet.”