The Beekeeper Mystery Read online

  “But why?” asked Violet.

  Walt leaned against the fence. “I did it before I got to know all of you,” he said. “I never much cared for kids. They’re always up to mischief. You have to understand these bees are like my babies. I worry when they’re sick. I make sure they’re fed and have a good home. So when Laura got it in her head to teach beekeeping to children, well…” He raised his bushy white eyebrows. “I was afraid kids would hurt my bees. I changed Laura’s flyer to look like the class was just for grown-ups.”

  “You said you marked up the flyers before you got to know us,” said Henry. “Do you still feel the same way about us?”

  Walt smiled, his eyes twinkling. “The four of you helped me see how much kids could do…and do well,” he said. “Actually, I’m kind of looking forward to helping Laura with her new junior beekeeping class.”

  That night, there was a huge feast. Laura invited Zelda, Walt, and Noah to the children’s farewell dinner. Laura said, “This meal is to thank you all for your amazing help! I could never have harvested all our honey without you.”

  “I’m afraid I gave you more trouble than help,” said Zelda, “but I’m so happy to be here with all of you.” She smiled.

  Violet was surprised at how friendly Zelda now seemed. She hoped Zelda would be that way more often.

  Later as Zelda, Walt, and Noah were leaving, everyone hugged. “I hope you come back real soon,” Walt told them.

  “I want to thank you,” said Zelda, “for helping me make things right.”

  Laura watched in amazement. After the door closed, she said, “Do the Aldens always leave a place better than when they found it?”

  Jessie smiled. “We try,” she said.

  Noah’s Surprise

  The next morning the children dressed and packed. As they finished breakfast, Grandfather’s horn tooted. They ran outside, greeting him in their new Applewood Farm T-shirts. Benny’s yellow shirt said, “bee kind.” Violet’s purple shirt said, “sweet as can bee.” Jessie’s red shirt said, “bee awesome!” Henry’s green shirt said, “the bee whisperer.”

  Grandfather laughed. “I guess you liked working with Laura’s bees,” he said.

  “We have a shirt for you too,” said Violet. She handed Grandfather a T-shirt that said, “king bee.”

  “We learned there isn’t really a king bee in a hive though,” Benny told him.

  “Thank you. This is just about the best shirt I ever had!” Grandfather said.

  Laura came out of the house. “Oh, James,” she said, giving Grandfather a hug, “I can’t thank you enough for letting the children come.”

  “Were they able to help with your honeybee emergency?” he asked.

  “A thousand percent,” said Laura. “I really couldn’t have done it without them. Come on, we’ll show you.”

  They led Grandfather on a tour, all talking at once. “Here’s where we gathered eggs.” “Those are the hives.” “Here’s the workshop where we harvested honey.”

  Inside the workshop the children explained about supers and frames and honeycombs and uncapping and extracting. Benny turned the crank on the extractor. “This is how you spin honey out of honeycombs,” he said.

  Grandfather watched, amazed. “I can’t believe how much you’ve learned in such a short time,” he said.

  “Laura’s a great teacher,” said Jessie, who thought she might teach when she grew up. “Laura wrote everything on a whiteboard,” she said. “I copied the lessons in my notebook. When we get home, I’ll type them on the computer and print them out. I can pin them on our corkboard so we never forget.”

  “Would you like to see what your grandchildren made?” asked Laura.

  “Absolutely!” said Grandfather.

  They walked toward the gift shop. “When David was called away on business,” said Laura, “I didn’t know if I could harvest the honey without his help. Also I worried about the best way to teach beekeeping to children.”

  She opened the gift shop door. There were no customers this early in the morning. Noah wasn’t behind the counter. Laura showed Grandfather a table filled with jars of honey. “Your grandchildren made all of these,” she said.

  Grandfather picked up a jar. “These look wonderful,” he said.

  Violet held up a jar. “These are my bee drawings on the new labels,” she said.

  “And I stuck the labels on,” said Benny. “Some are a little crooked.”

  Laura smiled. “That’s how people will know they’re homemade.”

  “Hey!” Noah came out of the storeroom. “I was hoping I’d see you before you left. Wait right there! Don’t move! I’ve got a surprise.” The teen disappeared back into the storeroom.

  “That’s my friend, Noah,” Benny told Grandfather. “He used to be afraid of bees.”

  “While you’re waiting,” said Laura, “I’d like each of you to pick a gift from the shop to take home.”

  Jessie found a big candle made from the same beeswax as the honeycombs. She would share it with Mrs. McGregor. Every time they burned it she would think of her adventures at Applewood Farm. Henry picked a package filled with a large piece of honeycomb. Benny took a box of honey lollipops. He could eat one each night as his after-dinner treat. And Violet chose packages of honeybee stickers. She loved to put stickers all over her notebooks.

  Noah came back into the store holding a piece of paper. “I filled out the form,” he said, showing them. “I’m taking the junior beekeeping class. If my friend Benny can work with bees, so can I.” Benny gave Noah a high-five.

  The clock chimed. “We’d better start heading home,” said Grandfather.

  “James Alden,” said Laura, “you haven’t picked out your gift.”

  Grandfather looked around. He found a box filled with bee-shaped cookies and read the ingredients. “Honey, peanut butter, eggs, and whole wheat flour. Sounds perfect.”

  “But,” said Jessie, “you don’t like cookies.”

  “No,” said Grandfather. “But Watch does.” He pointed to the picture of a dog on the wrapper. “I think he’ll like these doggie cookies just fine.”

  On the drive home Benny saw a row of beehives on a farm. “Bees on the left!” he called. From then on they all tried to be the first to spot stacks of hives. Jessie kept score in her notebook. Looking for hives made the ride pass quickly. Benny even saw a beehive behind a house on their block in Greenfield.

  As Grandfather pulled into their driveway, Jessie read the scores: “Henry: nine, Violet: six, Jessie: five. And the winner,” said Jessie, “with a grand total of ten, is the one, the only, Benny ‘Buzzy’ Alden!”

  Mrs. McGregor opened their front door. Watch bolted past her to the car, barking. The children tumbled out. Watch jumped all over them, licking their faces, running around in circles, jumping on them again. Benny crouched down, letting Watch lick his face. Suddenly Watch stopped. He whipped his head around. He narrowed his eyes at flowers in front of the house. Bees were buzzing around, gathering nectar. Watch took off across the lawn, barking. The honeybees flew away.

  Laughing, Benny ran over and threw his arms around Watch. “It’s a very, very good thing you didn’t come with us to the farm,” said Benny. “Honeybees and kids are a good mix, but honeybees and dogs are not.”

  Turn the page to read a

  sneak preview of

  THE GREAT

  GREENFIELD

  BAKE-OFF

  the new

  Boxcar Children mystery!

  “Henry!” Six-year-old Benny came running from the playground, across the green grass. He was shouting his older brother’s name. “HENRY! HENRY! HENRY!” In his hand was a yellow piece of paper. He shouted for his sisters too. “JESSIE! VIOLET! JESSIE! VIOLET!”

  “What’s going on, Benny?” Henry raised his eyes from the book he was reading. The playground was close to where Henry, Violet, and Jessie had laid out their picnic blanket. This spot, under the old oak tree, was perfect for both watching Benny play and res
ting in the shade.

  “The best thing ever is going to happen here in Greenfield!” Benny waved the flyer. He repeated with pure joy, “Best thing ever!”

  “Well, are you going to tell us?” Twelve-year-old Jessie was cutting recipes out of a magazine and sorting them into a file box.

  “Guess!” Benny challenged. He playfully tucked the flyer behind his back.

  “Is it a new mystery?” Violet was ten. She stopped doodling with colored pencils on a drawing pad and studied Benny’s face.

  The Aldens were known around town for being great detectives.

  Henry smiled. “It’s been a little while since we solved a mystery.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Jessie agreed.

  “That’s a good guess,” Benny said. He pinched his lips and shook his head. “But it’s not a mystery.” He laughed. “Want to guess again?”

  Henry was fourteen. The others looked to him as if he might know since he was the oldest. “Hmm,” Henry rubbed his chin. “Let’s see.” He rattled off the clues. “Benny is excited. He’s holding a yellow flyer. And it’s not a mystery.” Henry looked at his sisters. “What do those clues mean to you?”

  “There’s only one thing that Benny likes as much as mysteries,” Jessie said with a wink.

  The other Alden siblings said in unison, “Food.”

  Violet laughed so hard her two dark-brown ponytails shook.

  “Yes,” Henry agreed. “Benny loves eating.” He stared at Benny for a long moment then added, “And contests!”

  Jessie pushed back a strand of her long brown hair and thought about the possibilities. “It might be an eating contest.”

  “Remember the hot dog eating competition?” Henry said with a laugh. “Benny ate the most hot dogs and won first place.”

  “I think,” Violet said thoughtfully, “since last year’s town competition was a food-eating contest, this year’s is probably—”

  “A food-making contest?” said Henry.

  Jessie turned to Benny and asked, “Is there going to be a baking contest in Greenfield?”

  Benny brought the flyer around his back. He handed it to Henry with a smile. “One hundred and ten percent correct,” he said. “The Aldens are the best guessers.” Then he looked sideways at his family. “But are they the best bakers too?”

  “Not me.” Henry laughed while running a hand over his thick dark hair. “I burned the toast this morning.”

  “I’m an artist,” Violet said. “I’d rather draw a cake than bake one.”

  “Jessie can do it!” Benny said. “She made my birthday cake this year.” He rubbed his belly. “And it was delicious! My tummy is still saying thank you.”

  Jessie was up to the challenge. “Tell us what the flyer says,” she told Henry. “I could try.”

  Henry studied the announcement. “It’s the Great Greenfield Bake-Off, a baking competition for kids.” He checked the rules. “You need two people for a team. Everyone must bake desserts.”

  “I’ll help,” Benny said. “I can be the taster!”

  “You can’t eat everything I make,” Jessie told him. “If we’re a team, you have to be the sous-chef.”

  “The soup chef?” Benny licked his lips. “I do love soup.”

  “Sous,” Jessie corrected. “It’s a French word. It sounds like sue. You don’t say the last s. The assistant to the main chef is called the sous-chef. For our team, you’d be the second baker in charge.”

  “I like it!” Benny cheered. “With Benny as sous, Team Alden comes through!” He smiled and said, “It rhymes.”

  Henry, Jessie, and Violet all chuckled.

  “Violet and I will be in the audience,” Henry said.

  “We can cheer you on,” Violet said. “I’ll make signs.”

  Excited about this new adventure, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny went back to their boxcar to get started right away on the perfect recipes for the baking contest. Sign-ups were the next day, and there was a form to fill out.

  The Alden children lived with their grandfather. After their parents had died, they’d run away and hidden in a railroad boxcar in the woods. The children had heard that Grandfather Alden was mean. Even though they’d never met him, they were afraid. But when Grandfather finally found the children, they discovered he wasn’t mean at all. Now the children lived in his house in Greenfield. Their boxcar was a clubhouse in the backyard.

  In the boxcar, their wirehaired terrier, Watch, was waiting.

  “Watch!” Benny was excited to tell the dog about the contest. “I’m going to be a sous-chef.” Watch lay down on the floor as Benny explained what that meant. Then Benny whispered to Watch, “You can’t help with baking because dogs can’t bake. But I can sneak you some tasters if you want.”

  Watch barked happily.

  “We need the right equipment.” Jessie looked through a box of cooking supplies she had stored in a corner. “This isn’t going to be like making snacks while we hang out.” She pulled out some measuring cups and a big mixing bowl.

  “The sign-up form is on the back of the flyer,” Henry said as he grabbed a pencil. “You and Benny will have two rounds where you get to choose what to make and one round where the judges give you surprise ingredients, and you make what they say.”

  “Two original recipes,” Jessie said. She told Benny, “Your first job as sous-chef is to help me think about what two recipes we are going to make.”

  “I like popcorn,” Benny said as Jessie dug a cookbook out of the box. “And carrots with dip.” He smiled and held up two fingers. “That should cover it. Easy-peasy!”

  Jessie breathed a heavy sigh. “The recipes have to be desserts, remember? And those kinds of snacks don’t use baking. Baking is special. It’s about using heat, like in an oven, to make foods. We’re going to need good recipes and the perfect ingredients. There’s a lot of science involved to get everything to bake together just right.” She opened her notebook and began to make a list of the dishes and tools she needed to get from Grandfather’s kitchen. With every passing minute, Jessie was growing more and more nervous about the contest. She frowned and muttered, “This is very hard. So many things can go wrong. I could burn the dessert. Add too much salt. Or not enough salt. Or mess up the artistic decorations. Or…”

  “You know what’s also important in baking?” Benny asked Jessie.

  She looked up at him.

  “A no-worrying, smiling face,” he said.

  Jessie shook her head. “You’re right!” She relaxed and smiled. “No more stressing. This contest will be fun.”

  “I know what the first poster for our team should say.” Violet grabbed her markers.

  “What?” Henry asked.

  Violet chuckled. “Benny’s ‘sous-chef’ cheer inspired me to write a rhyme.”

  “I can’t wait to hear it,” Benny said. “Moo rhymes with sous. You can use that. Or chef rhymes with…” He thought about it. “Nothing very cheery. Clef? Ref? Hmmm.”

  “I have another idea.” Violet quickly wrote the words on a big poster board then held up their newest cheer.

  Everyone chanted the words together: “Bake it with a grin. That’s how the Aldens win!”

  GERTRUDE CHANDLER WARNER discovered when she was teaching that many readers who like an exciting story could find no books that were both easy and fun to read. She decided to try to meet this need, and her first book, The Boxcar Children, quickly proved she had succeeded.

  Miss Warner drew on her own experiences to write the mystery. As a child she spent hours watching trains go by on the tracks opposite her family home. She often dreamed about what it would be like to set up housekeeping in a caboose or freight car—the situation the Alden children find themselves in.

  While the mystery element is central to each of Miss Warner’s books, she never thought of them as strictly juvenile mysteries. She liked to stress the Aldens’ independence and resourcefulness and their solid New England devotion to using up and making do. The Aldens go abou
t most of their adventures with as little adult supervision as possible—something else that delights young readers.

  Miss Warner lived in Putnam, Connecticut, until her death in 1979. During her lifetime, she received hundreds of letters from girls and boys telling her how much they liked her books.

 

 

  Gertrude Chandler Warner, The Beekeeper Mystery

 

 

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