The next day, everyone was up early so they could get a fast start on their trip to the state capital. Grandfather’s friend, Elizabeth Thompson, who did some work with the Land Records Office, had said they could file the deed immediately.
“Now you make sure to give yourself time to have those peanut butter sandwiches at lunchtime,” Mrs. McGregor told everyone as they got into Mr. Alden’s roomy car. “I know you’ll be hungry.”
“I know I will be, too,” Benny said.
Jessie checked her long list of chores. “The animals are all fed and walked for the day,”she told Mrs. McGregor.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Mrs. McGregor said.
“We won’t,” Mr. Alden said when he backed out his car. “We’ve got a full tank of gas and the excellent lunch you prepared to keep us all from starving.”
Jessie held up the all-important black notebook for Mrs. McGregor to see. “And tucked safely in here is Miss Newcombe’s deed.”
“It’s a good deed!” Benny called out the window to Mrs. McGregor.
Mr. Alden and his grandchildren laughed. “It is indeed!” he said. Everyone laughed again, and they were on their way.
But not for long.
“Why is the car slowing down, Grandfather?” Henry said when he heard the car sputter. In a few minutes it stopped dead in the middle of the highway.
Mr. Alden quickly tried to restart the engine, but nothing happened. “I don’t know what the problem is, but we have to get out quickly while the road is clear.” Mr. Alden raced to help his grandchildren out of the car.
When everyone was safe, Mr. Alden checked the highway. “Henry, you give a push while I steer the car off the road. No one is coming right now.”
But Mr. Alden was wrong. Just when Henry was giving the last strong push to roll the car to the side, Jessie screamed, “Grandfather! Henry! Watch out!”
Henry turned around just in time to see the Wolf Demolition truck whiz by, only inches away from the car.
The Aldens recognized one of the passengers right away. “Looks like you’ll be here all day,” the unshaven man from Miss Newcombe’s house snickered before the truck disappeared in a cloud of oily blue smoke.
“I bet they’re going to the state capital,” Violet cried.
“Never mind, Violet,” Henry said while he and Jessie continued pushing the car. “We have the deed. Even though Miss Thompson said the Land Records Office closes early on Fridays during the summertime, we still have time to get there before noon.”
After the car was safely off the road, Mr. Alden took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “I’m going to check the engine. Maybe we’ve overheated, or the oil level dropped for some reason. Can’t figure out why, though. Jack Vetrano checked out everything just yesterday.”
For the next half hour, the Aldens did everything they could think of to get the car started. Nothing worked.
“The water and oil levels seem fine,” Mr. Alden said after checking the dipstick. “If I hadn’t just filled the gas tank yesterday, I’d almost think we were out of gas.”
Henry took out his baseball cap from the backseat and put it on. “Grandfather, I’m going to look for help. Maybe there’s a gas station up ahead, and I can get a mechanic back here to take a look at what’s wrong.”
Henry didn’t waste any time jogging off for help. After he disappeared down the road, a few cars stopped by to offer help, but Mr. Alden waved them away, saying his grandson would be bringing back some help very soon.
“There’s a red tow truck slowing down!” Benny said awhile later.
The driver jumped down from the truck, and Henry got out on the passenger side. “This is Mr. Hall, Grandfather. He knows everything about cars like yours.”
“I’ll work fast,” Mr. Hall said. “Your grandson, here, told me all about how you have to get to the capital by noon.”
Mr. Hall went over and under the car with his tools. From under the car, everyone heard him say, “Maybe you’re out of gas.”
“It’s not likely,” Mr. Alden said. “I just had it filled up yesterday, and I didn’t drive it until today.”
The mechanic took a gas can with a long spout and began pouring gas into the tank.
“Well, let’s see if a little gas can get it going. It might push out some air that could be in the gas line,” Mr. Hall said as he poured. And poured. “I don’t like to say this, sir, but your gas tank seems to be bone dry.”
“That’s impossible,” Henry said. “If my grandfather said he filled the tank, he filled it.”
“Maybe he did, but it’s still dry. With gas prices the way they are these days, maybe somebody drained your gas out.”
“I have to say I’m quite embarrassed at all this, but you fixed the problem, so give me the bill,” Mr. Alden said to the mechanic.
Everyone got into the car, which was soon humming down the highway again.
“I can’t figure it, I just can’t figure it,” Mr. Alden repeated. “I filled this tank with gas when I picked it up from Jack last night.”
“I think I know what happened, Grandfather,” Henry said. “I think they drained all our gas on purpose because they didn’t want us to make this trip to check on the deed. Then they tampered with the gas gauge so you wouldn’t know anything was wrong.”
“You’re probably right, Henry,” Mr. Alden agreed. “In any case, we have the deed, and they don’t.”
When the Aldens met Miss Thompson in the capital lobby at twenty to twelve, she didn’t know a thing about the three men. “I’m sorry, James,” she said to Mr. Alden. “There’ve been hundreds of people going through the lobby all morning. I can’t say I noticed three suspicious men in all these crowds. But that does give us even more reason to hurry! It’s nearly closing time.”
Everyone raced behind Miss Thompson up three flights of marble stairs. As they climbed flight after flight, the Aldens told Miss Thompson the whole story about finding the deed in the old notebooks.
“Do you think you can help us?” Jessie asked when they finally reached the Land Records Room.
“If the deed is signed and stamped with the state seal, then all we need to do is make a copy and file it with Mr. Tully, the Land Records Clerk. Now don’t worry if he seems a bit gruff. He likes to keep a close watch on the documents in the Records Room. And he’s always a bit grumpy right before lunch.”
“Me, too,” Benny said.
Everyone’s laughter bounced off the marble walls and floors when they went into the Land Records Room. This did not please the annoyed-looking man who came over to the Aldens.
“What can I do for you, Miss Thompson?” the man asked. “I hope it’s not too complicated. On Fridays, we lock up at twelve sharp, and it’s ten of already.”
“This is the Alden family, and they’d like us to find information about a fifty-year-old deed they discovered in Greenfield.”
“Greenfield? What in heaven’s name is going on in Greenfield?” Mr. Tully said in a loud voice. “Is someone putting up skyscrapers or something? Some employees of a demolition company were in just about an hour ago, asking about some Greenfield property, and I told ’em what I always tell ’em. They have to wait until Wednesday before their bid goes through, just in case a deed turns up by Tuesday. I sent them packing just like that pesky old woman who was here a few days ago, asking about the same darn land in Greenfield.”
Henry stepped up to Mr. Tully. “Was it a Miss Newcombe?”
Mr. Tully thought for a minute. “I don’t ask their names, young man, unless they have something official to show me. I can’t help anyone without a piece of paper, and all this woman had was a lot of old stories. Why, I’d never get a day’s work done if I spent time with these folks always coming in here with their stories.” Mr. Tully looked at the Aldens and Miss Thompson as if they were trespassing on his private property.
“But we—” Jessie began.
“The Aldens do have—” Miss Thompson started to say, but Mr. Tully wanted to set everyone straight.
“This elderly woman seemed to think I could stop developers from building on some land she says might be hers. Why, I could say I owned the Grand Canyon, but without a deed, I certainly wouldn’t get too far, now would I?”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Violet said in a quiet but sure voice. “But we do have a deed, Mr. Tully.”
“That’s quite impossible,” Mr. Tully said. “There was never a deed on that land, so it came to the state when the last owner of record died. Anybody can buy it once fifty years have passed after the owner’s death, and that anniversary is Tuesday, just four days from now. The Wolf Demolition Company has already put in a preliminary bid, and after that they can buy the land fair and square.” Mr. Tully paused and stared at the Aldens. “Unless, of course, someone shows up with a valid deed.”
Henry stood tall. “You will find that this deed proves Miss Newcombe owns the land.”
Mr. Tully raised an eyebrow. “Let me see that. Hmm. Hmm,” he kept saying as he read the old document.
“Is this deed still good?” Henry asked.
“Good as the day it was signed,” Mr. Tully said. “Now why this Jacob Kisco didn’t file it, I don’t know. Probably one of these old farmers who kept everything hidden under his mattress, I suppose, and didn’t tell anyone about it.”
Benny just couldn’t stay still. “I found it, Mr. Tully, but not under a mattress. It was hidden in a book stuck between two boards in a toolshed.”
Mr. Tully could hardly stand this. “There you go. A toolshed! Fifty years ago this capital was standing here same as now. Not to mention the Greenfield Town Hall. The old woman said there wasn’t a thing filed there, either. Too bad she didn’t check the toolshed! Well, here’s the proof she needed right here.”
The Aldens jumped up and down. Jessie almost hugged Mr. Tully, but she hugged her grandfather instead.
“The search paid off,” Mr. Alden said. “You know, Mr. Tully, I’ve never known my grandchildren to give up on finding what they wanted.”
Mr. Tully coughed a few times to quiet everyone down. “I wouldn’t celebrate just yet,” he said gruffly.
Jessie’s voice was squeaky. “Why can’t we celebrate?”
“The name on this deed is Silas Newcombe,” Mr. Tully said. “That’s a man’s name, not the name of that woman. For all we know, Silas Newcombe could still be alive.”
“It’s Miss Newcombe’s father,” Henry said. “He died a long time ago.”
Mr. Tully’s face didn’t change. “Well, how does anyone know he left the property to the woman who was here the other day? She would have to produce a will saying that the property was left to her. No will, no land.”
The Aldens’ hopes fell again. They not only didn’t have a will, they didn’t even have Miss Newcombe.
“We'll talk to her,” Jessie said. She looked Mr. Tully in the eye. “And after we do, we’ll be back with her father’s will.”
“You’ve only got until Tuesday, young lady,” Mr. Tully said. “Otherwise, that Wolf Demolition Company can buy the land.”
Everyone left the Land Records Office quietly before Mr. Tully could give them any more bad news.
“I’m sorry Mr. Tully wasn’t more polite,” Miss Thompson said. She put an arm around Jessie’s shoulder. “But the main thing is that the deed proves the property belongs to Miss Newcombe’s family. All you have to do is get the will from her. She must be back in Greenfield by now.”
Henry spoke up. “If she even went back to Greenfield. You see, these men from the demolition company seem to have frightened her away. That’s what we think.”
Miss Thompson stopped on the step where she was standing. “I see,” she said softly. “That is a problem. As Mr. Tully said, time is running out. On Wednesday, this deed won’t be any good. I’m afraid Mr. Tully is correct. The developers have a perfect right to buy the land from the state when the fifty-year anniversary of Jacob Kisco’s death has passed.”
The Aldens didn’t speak the rest of the way down the winding stairs. No one had to. They were all thinking the same thing. Where was Miss Newcombe? She just had to be found. |