The Key to a Mystery
The door George Anderson chose for his hasty exit was the door to the
kitchen. Peter made no move to stop him. Neither did Judy. He was
stopped by what he saw when he flung open the door.
There, glittering in the bright sunlight that streamed in through the
doorway, was an overturned tobacco jar spilling old jewelry, tie clasps,
gold cuff links, and other trinkets. Nothing of any great value appeared
to be in the collection, but it did tell the story of the ring
Blackberry had found.
“You see,” Judy pointed out, “my cat did tip over this tobacco jar and
roll the ring out to us. Peter, we’d better find him.”
“He’s disappeared before,” Peter reminded her as they searched the
house, upstairs and down. “He always comes back. We may find him waiting
for us in the car. I left the windows open.”
“You two are really fond of that cat, aren’t you?” Danny’s father asked,
calming down now that he had seen the evidence. “What I can’t figure out
is how he got inside my house in the first place.”
“We told you. He crawled in through this hole.” Judy pointed out a
jagged opening near the kitchen door. “You can see it was gnawed by
beavers. They really did haul away some of this stuff to build their
dam. Your son watched them do it. But, apparently, someone else was
watching, too.”
“You’re not accusing me again, are you?” He was still on the defensive,
but Judy and Peter soon convinced him they were not accusing him of
anything.
“We’re just trying to find out the truth. You can help us, Mr. Anderson,
if you will,” declared Peter. “You know where this furniture came from,
don’t you?”
“I don’t _know_,” he replied with emphasis, “but I suspect it’s loot
from the Roulsville flood. Somebody stored it here six years ago and set
up a shop to refinish and resell it more recently, I suppose. But it was
done without my knowledge, and I won’t take the blame for it!”
“You won’t have to, but we are asking you to help us find out who did
it,” Peter told him. “My wife took a picture of him when Danny was
trailing him. Danny thinks—”
“Danny thinks I’m the thief, doesn’t he?” his father interrupted.
“That’s why he refused to see me?”
“He’ll know who the thief is tomorrow when I show him this picture blown
up and separated from the one of the table leg. Do you see what
happened?”
“I’m afraid I don’t see,” George Anderson admitted after taking a long
look at the picture Peter handed him. “What is this? A joke of some
kind?”
Judy laughed. “You might call it that, but the joke was on me. I took
one picture on top of another. It does create a weird effect.” She
pointed out the lady’s face on the man’s body. “You see, that’s the same
face that you saw carved on those three table legs in the other room.
One is missing. It must have been stored here in the kitchen when the
beavers found it.”
“This seems to be where all the unfinished furniture is stored,” Peter
observed as he gestured toward the stack of chairs that had blocked the
doorway.
“Of course,” agreed Judy. “The beavers couldn’t get in the other room
with the door closed, could they? I mean unless they gnawed their way
in. That must be where this old furniture is taken to be sanded and
varnished and made to look like new. We’ll have our whole table, just
the way it was before the flood, as soon as we find the other table
leg.”
“You mean the one the beavers stole?” Danny’s father asked, beginning to
understand.
“Right,” agreed Peter. “Your house wasn’t broken into except by
beavers—”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean,” Peter pointed out, “that whoever entered this house had a key.
Danny saw him using it.”
“But I was the only one with a key,” George Anderson protested.
“Think! Didn’t you give a key to someone?”
“Only to the carpenter who boarded up the windows, and he sent it right
back as soon as the work was finished.”
“He would have had time to order a duplicate—”
“That’s it!” Judy broke in excitedly. “Was the carpenter’s name John
Beer?”
Immediately Judy regretted having asked the question. It was like poking
at a hornet’s nest.
“John Beer is an honest carpenter,” Danny’s father exclaimed. “He
wouldn’t do a thing like that. Get out, both of you, before you make any
more accusations. I’ll call the police myself and have this stolen stuff
hauled out of here, and then I’ll get my boy back from those meddling
old ladies, and furthermore,” he added, glaring at Judy, “if I find that
cat of yours prowling around in my house I’ll wring its neck!”
“You wouldn’t be so cruel! Come on, Peter,” Judy urged. When they were
outside, she added, “I shouldn’t have mentioned John Beer. It was just a
guess—”
“And a pretty good one,” Peter said. “He probably did have refinished
furniture in his truck and then, when Sammis refused to buy it, he took
it somewhere else and sold it. If that’s John Beer in the picture—”
“I don’t think it is,” Judy interrupted. “The man with the lady’s face
is tall and thin like—like Danny’s father. You don’t think he will find
Blackberry, do you?”
“Not before we do—I hope. Even if he does, I doubt that he’ll carry out
his threat. He’s angry and confused now, but when he has time to think
this over he may come to the same conclusion we did. That key he gave
John Beer may turn out to be the key to the whole puzzle. Better call
Blackberry once more before we leave,” Peter advised when they had
reached the car. “We can’t wait long, though. I have a report to turn
in. George Anderson may not know it, but his life may be in danger if we
don’t get some of our men there fast.”
“You mean the thieves—”
“That’s right,” Peter agreed before Judy could finish the alarming
thought. “If they return and find him there they’ll do anything to save
their illegal business. It wasn’t his. I’m convinced of that.”
Judy began calling Blackberry. She walked a little way along the woods
road calling and searching. The sun was low in the western sky. It
looked like a bright ball of fire as she glimpsed it through the trees.
Soon it would be dark.
With a shiver of apprehension she turned back. She had called and
called, but it was no use.
“We’ve almost lost him so many times. Now I’m afraid we’ve really lost
him,” she lamented as Peter started the car and they drove off without
Blackberry.
When they reached the first telephone Peter called in his report and
learned that George Anderson had summoned the police just as he had
threatened.
“He won’t carry out his other threat, though.” Peter seemed convinced of
this. Judy wished she could be as sure of Blackberry’s safety as he was.
As they passed the burned orphanage, they saw a few people still
standing about. The ruins of the building still smoked, and one fire
engine had not gone back to its firehouse. But there were no orphans to
be seen.
“I wonder where they are. We were going to take some of them home with
us,” Judy reminded Peter.
“We will if any more homes are needed. I’ll let you off here. You can
find out from your father. That looks like his car parked in the next
driveway,” Peter observed.
“It is!” Judy exclaimed. “Dad must be inside that neighbor’s house with
Meta Hanley. Oh, I hope she’s all right. I’ll stay and see if I can do
anything to help. I know you’ll be busy.”
“Will I!” Peter agreed as a police car screamed to a stop beside him and
one of the officers took Judy’s place. Peter gave her a quick kiss and
promised not to forget Blackberry. Then he turned to the officer.
“You men are fast,” Judy heard him say as he sped off, following the
police car back to the house with the boarded-up windows.