The Mystery of the Black Raven Read online

  “How much is a ton?” Benny whispered to Violet.

  “A lot,” she whispered back.

  “Soon thousands of men and women were headed to Skagway, the closest port to the Klondike region by sea,” the announcer said. “Boat fares in the summer of 1897 soared from two hundred dollars a person to a thousand dollars. By late summer, people were arriving daily on anything that floated. By fall, one hundred thousand people had landed in Skagway. They had to buy supplies for a year and hike to the goldfields, which were six hundred miles away.”

  Several people in the audience whistled at the distance.

  The man continued his talk. “Many turned back when they saw the steep, dangerous passes they had to cross to reach the Yukon. But a lot of people did make it. When they came back, Skagway had grown into a rip-roaring town! There were plenty of places to spend money!”

  Then dancers came onstage and danced to piano music.

  When the show was over, the reunion party debated what to do next.

  “I’m thirsty!” Benny declared. “I want a soda.”

  “Good idea,” agreed Miss Parker. “All that listening made me thirsty, too.”

  The Sweet Tooth Saloon was their next stop.

  Inside, Benny ordered a chocolate shake.

  “It’s funny,” said Jessie, scooping ice cream with a long-handled spoon. “Even though it’s kind of cold outside, I can still eat ice cream.”

  “I can eat ice cream anytime,” Benny said. “Even in a blizzard!”

  “Well, we won’t have to worry about that,” said Jennifer Wilson, laughing. “I doubt we’ll see even a snowflake.”

  After their midmorning refreshments, no one wanted to eat lunch for a while. And when they did, the Pittmans quarreled about where they should go.

  “Let’s try the Prospector’s Sourdough Restaurant,” Grandfather suggested. “The prices are very reasonable, according to my guidebook.”

  “Hmmmpf,” Mr. Pittman snorted. “Now I know why the old prospectors were so sour. They had to fork over a lot of dough for everything!”

  Benny was confused. “What is he talking about?”

  Violet answered as they went into the restaurant. “It’s an expression, Benny. Dough is another word for ‘money.’”

  They all sat down in the restaurant, which was decorated with local artwork.

  Jessie picked up her menu, but couldn’t concentrate. Something Mr. Pittman had said earlier was bothering her.

  One of us is a thief.

  Suppose he’s right, she thought. Which one of us stole the scrapbook and raven?

  CHAPTER 4

  Mystery Within a Mystery

  Strolling along Broadway after lunch, the Aldens were warm enough to shed their coats and jackets.

  Violet breathed in the clean, fresh air. The town was surrounded by the Skagway River, the bay, and the mountains. Ahead of her, Monique stopped at a store.

  “I want to go shopping,” she whined to her father. “We haven’t bought anything since we got here.”

  “At these prices?” Mr. Pittman cried. “Look at how much those things in the window are!”

  Miss Parker was consulting her guidebook. “This is a special shop. It’s the oldest curio store in Alaska. Let’s go in.”

  Benny tilted his head back to see the sign. “What’s it called?”

  “Kirmse’s,” said Grandfather as they all went inside. “Say, ‘Kirm-zees.’ It might be Russian. Alaska was claimed by Russians way back in the 1700s. Of course, the Native Americans were already here. The United States bought Alaska from Russia in 1867. People thought Secretary of State William Seward was crazy for buying so much land so far north.”

  “They called his purchase ‘Seward’s Folly,’” Miss Parker added.

  “What does folly mean?” asked Violet.

  “A folly means ‘a foolish mistake,’ usually costing a lot of money,” Grandfather answered. “But people soon changed their minds when they learned about Alaska’s tremendous resources.”

  Monique patted back a huge fake yawn. “Please, no more history lessons!”

  “Look at this,” said Jennifer Wilson. She was peering into a case that displayed items not for sale. “That’s so beautiful.”

  Jessie leaned over to get a peek. “What a pretty necklace,” she commented, admiring the dainty chain of the world’s tiniest pure gold nuggets.

  “I’d love to have that,” Jennifer said with a sigh.

  “No, here’s the one we need,” her husband said. He pointed to a watch chain made from the largest nuggets. “This chain is the heaviest and most valuable in the world, it says. If we sold that, we could buy a house and all the furniture we want!”

  After glancing over the lovely items in the store, the group left.

  “When are we going to do something fun?” complained Mark.

  “This is fun,” said Miss Parker. “I’m having a great time just seeing the town. Aren’t you? Skagway is nothing like Sheboygan, Wisconsin, where I live.”

  “It’s not like Greenfield, Connecticut, either,” agreed Grandfather. “But in answer to your question, Mark, tomorrow we’re going gold hunting—”

  “Yippee!” Benny cried.

  “—then we’ll take a few trips out of town. The four days will be over before you know it,” Grandfather said.

  “Not soon enough for me,” Monique muttered.

  But Jessie heard her. She couldn’t understand why the older girl seemed so determined not to have a good time. Her brother was the same way.

  Walking back to the Totem Lodge, the Alden children stayed together.

  “You notice something?” Henry asked his brother and sisters.

  “What?” said Benny.

  “All anyone talks about here is money,” Henry said. “Gold and money.”

  “Henry’s right,” said Jessie. “I think the town is neat, but everybody seems mostly interested in the gold part.”

  Violet tied the sleeves of her light jacket around her waist so she wouldn’t have to carry it. “Maybe the theft of Grandfather’s scrapbook and raven has something to do with money.”

  “Good point,” Jessie said. “The thief could have taken those things to sell.” Then she paused. “But the scrapbook isn’t really worth anything, is it? It’s just old photos.”

  “And those raven statues are everywhere,” Benny put in. “Look, there’s one in that window.”

  The raven he pointed to was bigger than the Four Rock Miners’ statue, but the soapstone carving looked very similar, even down to the etched wing feathers.

  “Miss Parker told us how important the raven is to Native American tribes,” Jessie said. “So we can expect to see ravens all over the place.”

  “Then money wasn’t the reason the thief took the scrapbook and statue?” reasoned Violet.

  Henry shook his head. “I don’t think we can rule out anything in this mystery. The strangest part is, how did anyone break into Grandfather’s room while he was in it?”

  “That,” said Jessie, “is a mystery within a mystery.”

  Later, the Four Rock Miners reunion members met at the Northern Lights Pizzeria for dinner.

  “Now, this is more like it,” said Mrs. Pittman when they sat down and studied the menus.

  “I love pizza,” Benny said.

  “You love any food,” Violet said, laughing.

  “Well—I’m not crazy about beets. Or brussels sprouts,” Benny said seriously. Even the Pittmans laughed at that.

  The restaurant was warm from the pizza ovens. Soon everyone was munching slices of pizzas topped with pepperoni, sausage, or mushrooms.

  Mark bit into a piece, dragging the cheese way out. His sister giggled when the cheese string broke and stuck to his nose. For once, the Pittmans seemed to be enjoying themselves.

  Mr. Pittman talked louder and louder, as the place filled with other diners. “Let me tell you something, boy,” he said to Steve Wilson, clapping him jovially on the back. “I’m going t
o be somebody someday. Mark my words, Wilson.”

  Miss Parker interrupted in her gentle voice. “You’re special already, Earl. You have a fine family. There’s no further need to prove yourself.”

  “Yes, there is,” Mr. Pittman insisted, suddenly becoming surly. “And I’ll do it, too!”

  Violet, who sat across from Mark, watched him doodle on the napkin. Staring at the drawings upside down, she recognized birds with large heads and big beaks. Why was Mark drawing ravens?

  Grandfather spoke up. “Well, I think my grandchildren are ready to call it a night. I know I am. We’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. Be ready for a big day!”

  As they walked back to the Totem Lodge in the nippy air, Benny asked his grandfather, “Why is Mr. Pittman always so grumpy?”

  “Oh, some people have trouble seeing happiness, even when it’s right in front of them,” replied Grandfather.

  “Well, his kids certainly aren’t much fun,” Henry put in. “All they do is mope and complain.”

  “I hope they won’t be mopey when we go gold hunting,” Jessie put in.

  “Gold hunting is cool,” said Benny. “How can anybody be mopey over that?”

  Jessie kept her thoughts to herself. If there was a way to spoil the outing, Mark and Monique would find it.

  Back at the lodge, Grandfather reported in at the front desk. Howie the bellhop was on night duty. He nodded to Grandfather and the children.

  “Mr. Alden,” said the evening desk clerk, “I’ve spoken to the maid who cleaned the third-floor rooms today. She didn’t find a scrapbook or a raven statue under the beds or on the closet shelves.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Grandfather said with a sigh.

  The clerk went on, “Of course, she isn’t permitted to go through the dressers or the guests’ personal belongings.”

  “Of course,” Grandfather agreed. “I’ll speak to the rest of our group. Thank you for your help.”

  As they walked up to the third floor, Henry asked, “Are you going to ask the others to look in their luggage?”

  “I hate to do it,” Grandfather said. “It automatically assumes that one of us is a thief. Miss Parker and I both believe it’s too soon to invade people’s privacy. We’d have to bring the bags in one room and go through them with the others watching. To do that, we’d need everyone’s agreement.”

  Jessie could imagine the fuss the Pittmans would make. “Do you think the scrapbook and raven will turn up before we leave?” she asked.

  “I’m hoping that will happen,” said Grandfather. “If you children want to stay up and read or talk, go ahead. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  After saying good night to their grandfather, the Aldens gathered in Violet and Jessie’s room to discuss the case.

  “Suppose one of the others did steal the scrapbook and raven,” Henry proposed. “What good will it do? Sooner or later, everyone gets a turn to keep the items. Why steal them out of turn?”

  “Unless there’s something we’re overlooking,” said Jessie. “Maybe the person who took the scrapbook and raven isn’t really interested in those old things, but instead is trying to get back at Grandfather.”

  “For what?” asked Benny. “Everybody loves Grandfather.”

  Violet smiled. “Not everyone knows Grandfather the way we do. Remember, the other people here have never met him before this trip.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Mr. Pittman,” Jessie said. “Remember how he told Steve he would be somebody someday? Suppose he took Grandfather’s things to be famous.”

  “How would that make him famous?” Benny asked.

  Jessie opened her mouth to comment, but just then there was a knock at the door.

  She slid off the bed to answer it.

  Miss Parker stood in the doorway. Quickly glancing up and down the hallway, she whispered, “May I come in?”

  “Sure.” Jessie held the door open for the former teacher.

  Miss Parker’s face was flushed, as if she’d been running.

  “Are you okay?” Violet asked.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” the older woman replied. “I’ve just been talking to your grandfather. I still feel terrible that the scrapbook and raven were stolen. Your grandfather told me you children are very good detectives and have solved a number of mysteries.”

  “That’s true,” stated Benny.

  “But this case is tough,” admitted Jessie.

  Miss Parker pulled something from her gray tote bag. “I believe I have something that might help. I should have shown it to you sooner!”

  CHAPTER 5

  Miss Parker’s Clue

  The older lady sat down on the bed, and the children settled around her. From a side pocket of her tote, she pulled out an old envelope.

  “I found this while I was going through my great-uncle’s belongings,” Miss Parker explained. “One of my Blake cousins sent me boxes of his things. She didn’t want them cluttering up her apartment.”

  “What was in the boxes?” asked Benny.

  “Nothing of great value,” the teacher replied. “Things of sentimental value, but not worth much money. But this was interesting.”

  She opened the worn envelope.

  Violet leaned forward. She could barely read the fine, spidery writing. It was addressed to Edward James Alden in Greenfield, Connecticut. A faint postmark was stamped April 16, 1910. The letter had been mailed to her ancestor!

  “That was sent to Grandfather’s great-uncle,” she said.

  “Yes, it was,” said Miss Parker. She pulled out several sheets of tissue-thin paper filled with the same spidery handwriting. “I won’t read you all of the letter because people in those days took a long time to get to the point. Basically it says my great-uncle couldn’t make it to the annual Four Rock Miners reunion in Skagway.”

  “Why not?” Henry asked. “I thought it was a tradition.”

  “It was, but Uncle Pete’s little daughter was very ill. He couldn’t leave his family. It was a long trip from Wisconsin to Alaska and he didn’t have the money, either.”

  “So what happened that year?” Jessie asked with interest. “Did they go?” This was a new twist. She thought the miners always met in Skagway, no matter what.

  “The other three did,” Miss Parker replied, carefully refolding the letter and slipping it back into the envelope. She tucked the envelope into the outside pocket of her bag.

  “And your great-uncle didn’t go?” asked Violet.

  “Yes, Pete Blake stayed in Wisconsin. But you see, he had to pass the scrapbook and raven on to Harold Bell that year. So Pete asked Edward Alden what to do—mail the scrapbook and raven to Harold so he would have it for the reunion, or what?”

  “Did they have mail back in those days?” asked Benny.

  That broke them all up.

  “Yes,” said Miss Parker, wiping her eyes. “And it was after the Pony Express! Anyway, the other three men wrote to one another and decided to let Pete keep the scrapbook and raven for another year, for luck. Since money was tight and his daughter was sick, maybe having those things would help.”

  “And did it?” Jessie wanted to know.

  Miss Parker shrugged. “Well, my uncle’s daughter did get well and he got another job later that year. Who knows? I’m not a superstitious person, but back then a lot of people were. In fact, some people still won’t walk under ladders or let a black cat cross their path.”

  “I’m super—whatever you said,” Benny put in. “I never walk under ladders.”

  Everyone laughed again.

  Miss Parker continued, “A new tradition was started. If any of the miners was having trouble of some sort, he was allowed to keep the scrapbook and statue an extra year. Or he could receive them out of turn to ‘change his luck.’”

  “Grandfather didn’t know this?” asked Henry. Grandfather was the only member of the reunion group who had been attending the reunions for many years.

  Miss Parker shook her head. �
�He had never heard of this tradition. No one knew about it until I found the letter. That’s why I brought it with me. When the original miners died, this part of the reunion remained a secret.”

  Henry looked at Jessie. Jessie nodded back. She was thinking what he was thinking. Maybe the scrapbook and raven weren’t worth money, but they might be valuable as good-luck charms. But who else knew about the letter?

  Miss Parker sighed. “I feel so bad those things were stolen from your grandfather. They had been in my care, so in a way, I feel responsible—”

  Just then Violet heard something outside, a slight shuffling sound. Was someone listening through the door?

  “Keep talking,” she whispered, sliding off the bed.

  The others continued a general conversation as she crept over to the door.

  Violet turned the handle silently and peered through the crack. She didn’t see anyone. Opening the door wider, she looked down the hall. Was the door to room 309 closing? Or was it her imagination? The corridor wasn’t very well lit.

  She went back into the room.

  “Anybody?” queried Henry.

  Violet shook her head. “But I thought for sure I heard something out there.”

  “I should let you children get to bed,” said Miss Parker. “It’s late. See you in the morning.”

  Later, when the boys were across the hall in their room, Jessie asked Violet more about what she had heard.

  “It sounded like shoes shuffling on a rug,” she explained. “But I didn’t see anybody. Except …”

  “Except what?”

  “Well, I thought I saw the door to room 309 closing when I looked down the hall,” Violet said with a yawn.

  Jessie said, “That’s the Wilsons’ room.”

  “I know,” said Violet. “I suppose Steve or Jennifer could have been out filling their ice bucket.”

  A few minutes later, Jessie realized that Violet was wrong. “Getting ice is the bellhop’s job,” Jessie said. “Anyway, Steve and Jennifer are too nice to listen at doors.”

  Violet didn’t reply. She was fast asleep.