I’m thirsty, thought Violet sleepily, waking from a deep sleep. It was very late. Violet got her flashlight and water glass from by the bed and went to the bathroom to fill the glass.
Back in her room, she sat down on the edge of her bed, turned off the flashlight, and took a sip of cool water.
Suddenly she heard a funny sound outside.
Violet stood up and peered out her window. She had the room above the kitchen. It looked out over the side yard, where the Pirate’s Gate had once hung.
The Pirate’s Gate wasn’t there now, of course.
But someone in a raincoat was.
Quickly Violet grabbed her flashlight and ran out of her room into Jessie’s. “Jessie,” she gasped.
“Uhh,” said Jessie sleepily.
“Someone’s outside in the garden. I think it’s the person who took Benny’s map! Tell Henry and Benny,” said Violet as she hurried away.
That woke Jessie up. In no time at all she’d gotten Henry and Benny and Watch. “Don’t bark, Watch,” warned Benny. They ran through the house as fast and as quietly as they could, trying not to wake Mrs. Ashleigh or Grandfather Alden.
They raced to the kitchen. Henry, who was the tallest, peered through a window that looked out over the garden.
A shadowy figure stood only a few feet away.
Suddenly the figure moved. It raised its arm and they all heard a dull clang, clang, like metal on metal.
Watch growled very softly, but he didn’t bark.
“What is he doing?” whispered Violet.
“I don’t know,” said Henry. “We’ve got to see who it is. Maybe if we surprise him we can at least see his face.”
They ran to the kitchen door and threw it open.
“Stop!” cried Henry. “Who’s there? Who are you?”
The shadowy figure whirled and leaped through the opening where the gate had once hung. He went so fast that they didn’t even have time to train their flashlights on him.
“Did you recognize anything?” asked Henry.
“Just that raincoat,” Jessie said.
“What was he doing?” said Violet. She turned her flashlight on the iron fence and got her answer. “Oh, no!” she said. “Look.”
The intruder had hit one of the hinges where the gate had hung. When Mr. Farrier had fixed it, it had looked shiny and new. Now it was scratched and dented.
“Why would anyone do that?” Henry wondered aloud. He bent forward to inspect the damaged hinge. “It’s not bad,” he said at last. “Mostly scratched. You could still hang the gate on it.”
“Oh, good,” said Benny.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Henry concluded. “Why would anyone vandalize Mrs. Ashleigh’s fence?”
“Maybe it’s her son, trying to scare her into moving,” said Jessie slowly. “And maybe he is the one who snuck in to steal the papers. Too bad we didn’t get a better look at him.”
“See?” said Benny. “Mr. Ashleigh is a mean man.”
“We don’t know who it was, Benny,” Violet reminded her younger brother. “It looked like the man from this afternoon.”
“Or woman,” said Jessie, thinking of Diana. “We just don’t know.”
“Maybe Diana and Forrest Ashleigh are working together,” said Henry. “After all, she lives nearby. It would be easy for her to get to Mrs. Ashleigh’s house without being noticed. All we know is that it was the person in the raincoat.”
“And whoever it was knows his way around. That’s one of the reasons he got away,” said Henry.
The four children looked at each other.
The clues were beginning to add up. But they still weren’t sure why all these mysterious things had happened. That was the biggest mystery of all.
“I’m going to Charleston to see about the gate and to take care of some business,” said Mrs. Ashleigh a couple of days later, coming out onto the front porch.
The Aldens had finished repairing the porch and had even added new steps to replace the stump. Now they were painting. “I don’t suppose anybody would like to come with me,” Mrs. Ashleigh went on.
“Me!” said Benny, dropping his paintbrush.
“I think we’d all like to go visit Mr. Farrier’s studio,” said Jessie.
The Aldens changed out of their porch-painting clothes, and soon they were on their way to Charleston.
Many people were still working to clean up after the hurricane. “We can’t waste time here,” said Mrs. Ashleigh with a rueful smile. “You never know when the next hurricane will hit.”
Mr. Farrier’s shop was a low brick building not far from the Hoofbeats of History carriage tours stable. Inside, they found Mr. Farrier hard at work hammering a piece of red-hot iron into a curved shape. He wore a hat and safety goggles and gloves. The hammer rang against the hot metal with a dull clang, clang sound. Sometimes sparks flew up when the hammer hit the iron.
When he’d finished shaping the iron, he dipped it into a nearby bucket of water to cool it off, then put it down carefully. He pushed back his safety goggles, took off his gloves, and came over to shake hands.
“Mrs. Ashleigh. I’m glad to see you. I need to talk to you about that gate,” said Mr. Farrier.
“Can’t it be fixed?” asked Mrs. Ashleigh in a worried voice.
“Oh, yes, it can be fixed. But . . .” He stopped and looked around at the four children. “Anyway, if I could have a word with you in private.”
Mrs. Ashleigh said, “Of course. But I have an appointment at the bank right now.”
“Could we stay and watch Mr. Farrier work?” asked Jessie. “Just for a little while.”
“If it’s all right with Mr. Farrier. Then you can walk down to the bank to meet me.”
Mr. Farrier nodded. “You’re welcome to stay for a little while, and I can give you directions to the bank,” he said. “Just don’t get too close to the fire or the hot metal. You’ll have to sit over there.” He pointed to an iron bench along one brick wall.
The Aldens readily agreed.
As Mr. Farrier worked, he told the children about how he had learned his skill from his father, who had learned it from his father before him. “My great-great-great-grandfather was a slave,” said Mr. Farrier matter-of-factly. “But he was so good at making wrought-iron and cast-iron designs for fences and balconies that he was able to buy his freedom with the money he made. He set up his own shop and soon had more business than he could handle. You can still see some of his work around town today. It’s famous and very valuable.”
Mr. Farrier poured molten iron into hollow molds shaped like rosettes and stars. “The same as putting cake batter into a cake pan,” he explained. “I have molds in all different sizes and shapes. When the iron cools, it hardens and I remove the mold. Then I’ll have an iron decoration shaped like the mold. That’s called cast iron, and it can be hollow or solid.”
He pointed to the bench they were sitting on. “That’s cast iron. I make molds of different sections and weld them together. But the bench also has some wrought iron, which is shaped by hand.”
“What is the Pirate’s Gate?” asked Henry.
Mr. Farrier gave Henry a sharp look. “Not much of the Pirate’s Gate was made with molds — it’s mostly wrought iron. You kids really are interested in that gate, aren’t you?”
As he worked, Mr. Farrier asked the Aldens what they knew about the Pirate’s Gate. He seemed very uneasy and kept checking the back door of the studio to make sure it was locked.
“What are you making?” asked Benny.
“Window grills,” said Mr. Farrier. “You put them in front of windows and people can’t break in.”
“Who are they for?” asked Jessie.
“Me,” said Mr. Farrier. He jerked his head toward the windows of his shop. Seeing their surprised looks, he said, “Someone tried to break in last night. He got scared away, but better safe than sorry.”
“It would be hard to steal your ironwork,” said Violet. “It’s so heavy.”
Mr. Farrier shrugged.
“I guess we’d better go meet Mrs. Ashleigh,” said Jessie. “Thank you, Mr. Farrier.”
“You’re welcome,” said Mr. Farrier. He gave them directions to the bank and the Aldens left.
They’d almost reached the bank when Jessie grabbed Henry’s arm. “Look,” she said. “It’s him!” |