The Berenstain Bears in Maniac Mansion Read online

  CONTENTS

  1. Mansion Mishap

  2. A Bad Lot

  3. Farnsworth Grizzly’s Curse

  4. Sister’s Nightmare

  5. Isn’t It Obvious?

  6. Strange Behavior

  7. Good News and Bad News

  8. Rudely Awakened

  9. Ghostly Logic

  10. Tillie’s Tale

  11. To the West Wing!

  12. The Grandfather’s Clock

  13. In the Old Library

  14. Bear Detective for a Day

  15. Picking Up the Scent

  16. Trapped!

  17. To the Rescue

  18. The Butler’s Tale

  19. Which One?

  20. The Other Butler’s Tale

  21. A Grand Ball

  Excerpt from The Berenstain Bears Chapter Book: Giant Bat Cave

  1. One for All, and All for One

  2. The Honor Wall

  3. A Letter for Gus

  About the Authors

  Back Ad

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  Mansion Mishap

  Papa Q. Bear was known far and wide as one of the finest carpenters in all Bear Country. That meant that he always had plenty of customers. In fact, he usually had a waiting list as long as your arm.

  But Papa had one special customer who was always at the top of his list. That customer was Squire Grizzly. Because Papa was the best carpenter in Beartown, Squire and Lady Grizzly wouldn’t let anyone else take care of the woodwork at Grizzly Mansion.

  Over the years Papa had probably done more work for the Grizzlys than for all his other customers put together. That was partly because Grizzly Mansion had so much woodwork. The mansion had dozens of rooms, and in every room there was woodwork on the walls and ceiling. There were also lots of stairways in Grizzly Mansion. Each stairway had wooden steps that sometimes needed repair and also finely carved banisters that had to be cleaned and refinished from time to time. Papa had even replaced damaged banisters on several of the stairways.

  But an even bigger job than Grizzly Mansion’s woodwork was its furniture. Lady Grizzly was a collector of fine old furniture. Every room of the mansion was filled with priceless antiques she had bought over the years. Each time she bought one, she gave it to Papa Bear to take apart, clean, put back together, and refinish. If it was damaged in any way, Papa would repair it with the utmost care.

  There were two reasons Papa took such great care with the antiques from Grizzly Mansion. First, he always took pride in his work. And second, he knew how much Lady Grizzly loved her antiques. The squire spoke often of how upset she got when even one of them had so much as a scratch.

  Papa wasn’t at all surprised, then, to hear the panic in Squire Grizzly’s voice over the phone one summer afternoon.

  “I broke it!” said the squire. “One of her favorite rosewood chairs! I’ve put on a little weight recently, and I must have sat down too hard on it. If she sees it, she’ll have a fit. Oh, if I’d only gone on that diet she’s been pestering me about!”

  “Don’t worry, Squire,” said Papa. “I can start work on the chair first thing tomorrow morning and bring it back after lunch. Should I come to one of the side doors to pick it up so Lady Grizzly won’t see me and wonder why I’m there?”

  “Don’t bother sneaking around,” said the squire. “Lady Grizzly’s still asleep.”

  “I hope she isn’t ill,” said Papa.

  “Oh, no. She hasn’t been able to sleep at night lately. I’ll tell you all about it when you get here. Greeves the butler will show you to my office.”

  Papa told Mama what had happened and headed out to the family car. But first he called upstairs to Brother, Sister, and Cousin Fred, who was visiting for the afternoon.

  The cubs always enjoyed going along with Papa on his trips to Grizzly Mansion. The grounds were so beautiful, especially in the summer. And the mansion itself was full of interesting things to look at, such as old suits of armor and huge portraits of Grizzly forebears.

  For Brother there was the added attraction of Bonnie Brown, his special friend. Bonnie was the Grizzlys’ niece. Her parents were in show business and were away from home most of the time. Sometimes Bonnie was in a play or show, too. The rest of the time she lived at Grizzly Mansion with her aunt and uncle.

  The cubs hurried downstairs and piled into the car. Papa started it up, and off they went to Grizzly Mansion.

  Chapter 2

  A Bad Lot

  Arriving at Grizzly Mansion was different from arriving at any other house. First Papa and the cubs had to stop at the front gate and report to the security guard on duty there.

  “Papa Q. Bear to see Squire Grizzly,” said Papa.

  “Greeves just buzzed me on the intercom and told me to expect you, Papa,” said the guard. “Drive right in.”

  Papa steered the car up the long drive-way and around the circle at its end. When Greeves greeted Papa and the cubs at the front door, they noticed that he had large bags under his eyes.

  “You look tired, Greeves,” said Papa. “Anything wrong?”

  “Not really, sir,” said the butler. “I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

  Hmm, thought Papa. Just like Lady Grizzly. Maybe it’s catching.

  They entered the front hallway that led to the main spiral staircase. As the cubs admired a suit of armor that stood before several life-size portraits of Grizzly forebears, Reeves went to an intercom and pressed a button. “The cubs have arrived, Miss Bonnie,” he said.

  Bonnie waved as she came skipping down the stairs. “Hi, guys,” she said. “How about a tour of the mansion?”

  “Great,” said Brother. “I’ve never been upstairs. Can we go up and look around?”

  “Sure,” said Bonnie, taking his hand. “Let’s go.”

  Once upstairs, Bonnie led the cubs down a long hallway lined with portraits.

  “Wow,” said Sister. “How many forebears do the Grizzlys have, anyway?”

  “Dozens,” said Bonnie. “The family goes back centuries.”

  Brother stopped in front of one of the portraits. It was of a very old white-haired bear who looked out from the canvas with dark beady eyes. The eyes had an odd gleam in them. Brother had a hunch that the gleam was a greedy one.

  “Who’s this old guy?” he asked Bonnie. “I don’t think I like the looks of him.”

  “Funny you should say that,” said Bonnie. “That’s old Farnsworth Grizzly Uncle Squire’s great-grandfather. He built Grizzly Mansion, you know. And he was definitely not a nice bear.”

  “What did he do that wasn’t nice?” asked Sister.

  “He was a dishonest gambler—a swindler. He cheated bears out of tons of money.”

  “Kind of an old-time Ralph Ripoff,” said Brother.

  “But much, much worse,” said Bonnie. “Farnsworth Grizzly made Ralph look like an honest citizen. Ralph still lives in that run-down houseboat, but Farnsworth Grizzly swindled his way into a mansion.”

  “I never knew your uncle’s family had such a bad apple in its barrel,” said Brother.

  “It wasn’t just Farnsworth,” said Bonnie. “The old-time Grizzlys were a bad lot. Farnsworth was the last of the bad ones, but he was far from the worst.”

  “Who was the worst?” asked Cousin Fred.

  “Follow me and I’ll show you,” said Bonnie.

  She led them to the very end of the hall, where a large portrait hung high on the wall. It was a painting of a very mean-looking bear dressed in what might have been pirates’ clothes. He wore a black wide-brimmed hat with a feather in it and a bl
ack waistcoat with huge gold buttons. In one side of his belt was tucked an old-fashioned pistol; in the other was an antique dagger. Across his eyes stretched a black mask, and his mouth was twisted into a snarl.

  “Is that a Grizzly?” asked Sister, staring up at the portrait.

  “The very first one,” said Bonnie. “He was an orphan, and no one knows who his parents were. Have you guys ever heard of Bad Bart Grizzly?”

  “The Maniac of Mountain Highway?” said Cousin Fred. “You mean he was related to the squire?”

  “That’s the only reason he’s here on the wall,” said Bonnie.

  “Who was he?” asked Sister.

  “He was a famous highway robber from centuries ago,” said Fred. “He and his band of thieves used to rob stagecoaches along Old Mountain Highway in the Great Grizzly Mountains. It was just called Mountain Highway in those days.”

  “Like Robin Bear of Bearwood Forest?” asked Sister.

  “Not exactly,” said Bonnie. “Robin Bear robbed from the rich and gave to the poor. Bad Bart robbed from the rich, stole from the poor—and kept everything for himself! He didn’t just rob travelers, either. At night he would break into the cottages of the poor mountain folk, scare them out of their wits, and take everything they owned. That’s why they called him a maniac.”

  Sister looked up at the portrait again and shivered. “Can we go back downstairs now?” she said. “It’s kind of creepy up here.”

  Cousin Fred groaned. But Brother was feeling protective toward his little sister. “Come on, Sis,” he said. “We’ll go see the ballroom instead.”

  As they passed the portrait of Farnsworth Grizzly on their way to the stairs, Brother suddenly felt Sister’s hand on his arm. “What’s wrong, Sis?” he said.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the portrait. “Is that a trick painting?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” said Bonnie.

  “The eyes followed me as I went past!” said Sister.

  Brother chuckled and put his arm around Sister’s shoulders as they went down the stairs. “Isn’t it amazing what your imagination can do when you’re scared?” he said.

  Chapter 3

  Farnsworth Grizzly’s Curse

  Meanwhile, in Squire Grizzly’s office, Papa and the squire were also talking about Grizzly forebears. The conversation turned in that direction when Papa asked the squire why Lady Grizzly and Greeves were having trouble sleeping.

  “You wouldn’t believe what’s been going on around here the last couple of weeks,” said the squire, shaking his head. “And all because of that silly old curse.”

  “What curse?” asked Papa.

  “The curse put on the mansion by my great-grandfather Farnsworth Grizzly,” said the squire. “When my grandfather, Farnsworth’s son, turned his back on crime and became an honest banker, Farnsworth was furious. He said that Bad Bart Grizzly must be turning over in his grave, and he predicted that someday Bad Bart’s ghost would come to haunt Grizzly Mansion.

  “I never told my wife about the curse, because I know she believes in ghosts, and I didn’t want to frighten her. But she found out about it from one of the history books in my study. She got all upset. Then she told the servants, and they got all upset.

  “A couple of weeks ago they started hearing noises at night and wondered if the ghost of Bad Bart had finally come to haunt the mansion. A few nights later Maisie, the cook, heard noises coming from the ballroom in the west wing. She got out of bed and peeked into the ballroom. She claims that she saw three figures. Two of them were carrying a table across the room, and the third was walking ahead of them, lighting their way with a candle.”

  “Burglars?” said Papa.

  “Nonsense,” said the squire. “She says the figures were wearing masks and outfits like the ones worn by highway robbers in olden times. And remember, the leader carried a candle instead of a flashlight. Obviously, she imagined it all. She expected to see the ghosts of Bad Bart and his thieves in that ballroom, so that’s exactly what she saw. Since she knew they were thieves, she imagined them stealing something.

  “I checked the ballroom the next morning and found nothing missing. Every piece of furniture was exactly where it should be. That proves it was just her imagination.”

  “And now no one can sleep at night listening for ghosts?” said Papa.

  “All but Bonnie and me,” said the squire. “I know it’s nonsense, and I’ve forbidden the others from telling Bonnie about it. I don’t want her young mind disturbed with such silliness. But my wife sleeps most of the day now, and Greeves and Maisie and Tillie the housekeeper are all so tired they can hardly do their jobs. Why, it takes forever to get a cup of tea around here now . . .”

  Squire Grizzly rang the cook’s buzzer and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Maisie, where is our tea?”

  “What about the noise at night?” asked Papa.

  “Oh, it’s just mice running around all those secret tunnels that Farnsworth Grizzly built into the mansion—tunnels and stairways and hidden rooms with hidden entrances. He used to hide his money in them. From time to time he’d sneak around in them to switch the hiding places. He was a strange one, that Farnsworth Grizzly.”

  There was a knock at the door, and a very tired Maisie appeared. She was carrying a tray with two cups on it. “I’m sorry it took so long, sir,” she told the squire. “I’m so tired that I seem to be doing everything in slow motion.”

  “More noises in the west wing last night?” asked the squire.

  Maisie nodded and put a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn.

  “Must be the Maniac of Mountain Highway,” scoffed Squire Grizzly.

  “Oh, we don’t call him that anymore, sir,” said Maisie. “Lady Grizzly says it’s out of date.”

  “Oh?” said the squire. “And what do you call him now?”

  “The Maniac of Grizzly Mansion!” said Maisie.

  Squire Grizzly rolled his eyes at Papa as Maisie turned and trudged wearily from the room.

  Chapter 4

  Sister’s Nightmare

  Papa Bear knew very well that Sister was sometimes frightened by ghost stories and other scary tales. But on the way home from Grizzly Mansion, he couldn’t help telling the cubs about Farnsworth Grizzly’s curse and what Maisie thought she had seen in the ballroom.

  “Now don’t tell Bonnie about it when we take the chair back tomorrow,” he added. “The squire doesn’t want to scare her.”

  “Bonnie isn’t scared of ghosts,” said Brother. “She doesn’t believe in them.”

  “I don’t believe in ghosts, either,” said Sister. “But they scare me anyway.”

  “Uh-oh,” said Papa. “I hope you’re not too scared to go back to the mansion with us tomorrow.”

  “Oh, no,” said Sister. “I’ll be okay . . . I think.”

  But that night something happened that almost convinced Sister not to return to Grizzly Mansion. She had a nightmare about it.

  In dreams, even good ones, things often look strange and events happen in odd ways. Sister’s dream was no exception. She found herself on the lawn of Grizzly Mansion’s west wing, watching Bonnie jump rope. “Ten thousand and two, ten thousand and three . . . ,” Bonnie was calling out.

  It was strange that after so many jumps Bonnie didn’t look the least bit tired. And it was also strange that it was the middle of the night. But strange as it all was, it seemed perfectly natural to Sister, the way things so often seem in dreams.

  The mansion grounds were lit only by a full moon. But it wasn’t very dark, because the moon was at least twice its normal size. So was the lawn. It stretched for what seemed like a mile off toward Grizzly Mansion. The mansion looked tiny in the distance.

  All of a sudden Sister felt something tug at her. She began to glide across the lawn toward the mansion. She heard Bonnie’s voice getting farther and farther away: “. . . fifteen thousand and eight, fifteen thousand and nine . . .”

  The mansion grew larger and larger, unti
l at last Sister found herself standing at the side door to the west wing. The door was open. Inside was a long dark hallway. Sister felt her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go in. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. Something made her feet move.

  She walked into the mansion and down the hallway. The hallway was lined with huge portraits of Grizzly forebears. Even in the dark Sister could see their eyes following her as she walked.

  She was headed toward a room at the end of the hallway. From the room came a dim glow. What was in that room? Sister didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out. But just the same, her feet carried her down the hallway and toward the room.

  It seemed to take forever to get all the way down the hall. Sister had plenty of time to tell herself over and over, “I should turn back . . .” Her mind heard her mouth say it, but her feet didn’t seem to hear. They just kept walking down the hallway.

  Finally, she stood in the doorway of the room. She recognized it now. It was the great ballroom in the west wing. At the far end of the room stood a row of suits of armor that held swords, spears, and maces. One suit right in the middle of the row also held a lit candle.

  Suddenly, the candle began to move toward Sister. She heard the clanking of metal as the suit of armor walked.

  I have to get away! she thought. But when she turned to run, she found she couldn’t move. Her legs were as heavy as logs, and her feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor.

  The candle got closer and closer. But now the clanking had stopped. For it was no longer a suit of armor that held the candle. It was a tall figure in a black wide-brimmed hat and a black waistcoat with big gold buttons . . . and a mask. It was the Maniac of Mountain Highway!

  Now the other suits of armor had changed into highway robbers, too! Here they came, all in a row behind Bad Bart!

  Sister let out a scream just as Bad Bart reached out and grabbed her shoulder . . .

  “Wake up, Sis!” said Brother. He was shaking her shoulder.

  Sister opened her eyes and looked around. She was glad to see her own bedroom again.