Grandfather on the open door of the boxcar. “You have a visitor,” he announced.
Violet looked up from her drawing. “Hi, Grandfather. Who is it?”
Grandfather came inside, allowing Sid Hoyt to step into the boxcar behind him.
Sid Hoyt greeted the children and glanced around the room. “So this is the famous boxcar where you kids once lived. It’s fixed up nice.”
“The children drew a comic book,” said James Alden proudly. He held out the copy the kids had made at the library the night before. “I think it’s quite good.”
Sid paged through the comic. “It’s very good,” he praised. “I like the way you used the boxcar as the place where the Super-Aldens get their powers. You kids have great imaginations.”
“Violet drew the pictures,” said Henry.
“We’re working on the second issue now,” Jessie added.
Sid checked out the new panels on their table. “You kids may put me out of business!”
Everyone laughed.
“I came here for a reason,” Sid told them. “I want to invite you to the comic book convention in Hartford on Saturday.” He turned to Grandfather. “The invitation includes you, Mr. Alden.”
“Oh, boy!” Benny shouted.
James Alden considered. “I have business in Hartford I’ve been putting off. Where is the convention?”
“Hartford Century Hotel,” Sid replied.
Grandfather nodded. “I think that would work out fine. I’ll drive to Hartford, and while you all are attending the convention, I’ll take care of my business downtown. We’ll stay at the hotel overnight and come back on Sunday. How does that sound?”
“Yay!” Benny cheered. “This is going to be fun!”
“I have another favor to ask,” Sid said to Grandfather. “May I borrow your grandchildren this afternoon? You see, I am giving a presentation tomorrow. I have a lot of material to sort out and pack. My wife usually helps me, but she’s working on a big project.”
“We’d love to help,” Jessie answered for them.
“I’ll give them supper,” Sid told Grandfather. “And bring them home before too late. We’ll all need an early start tomorrow.”
The kids climbed into Sid’s green van parked out front and they drove off.
On the drive to Sid’s house, they all discussed the mystery.
“We haven’t found the counterfeiter yet,” Henry admitted. “But some strange things have happened. Do you know Marvin Peabody?”
“The president of the Connecticut Captain Fantastic Fan Club?” Sid replied. “I know him. Why?”
“We saw him at the library last night,” Jessie explained. “And he was at the antiques show where we bought issue number nine. He tried to buy it from us. When he saw us last night, he tried to buy the comic again. He offered us a lot of money.”
“Not only that,” Violet put in, “but he seemed kind of jealous that we’re friends with you.”
Sid sighed. “Marvin used to call me a lot and interrupt my work. I’m grateful for my fans. If nobody bought my comics, where would I be? But Marvin can be demanding.”
“Why does he want to buy our comic so much?” Violet wondered.
“Good question,” Sid said. “Marvin Peabody has a whole set of Captain Fantastic comics in mint condition. That means they are in Mylar bags and the covers have never been creased. I autographed a copy of his issue number nine at last year’s Hartford convention.”
Henry nodded. “It’s like we suspected. Marvin just wants our number nine.”
“But why?” Benny asked.
“Because he knows it’s counterfeit?” Jessie guessed.
“Or,” said Violet, “because he was supposed to get something from that particular comic.”
“The note!” the others chimed in.
Sid pulled the van into the garage behind his barn-house. “I can see why you kids are detectives. You figure every angle.”
As soon as Sid unlocked the door, Batman and Robin ran over, meowing. They weaved in and out of the children’s legs, making the Aldens giggle.
“I think they’re hungry,” Benny said as Robin licked his fingers.
“Those two are always hungry,” said Sid. “They’ll just have to wait till suppertime.”
Benny petted the cats, “I know how you feel,” he told them. “I’m always hungry, too.”
The Aldens followed Sid into the studio area. Sid opened the narrow, flat drawers of a long metal file cabinet.
“This is where I store my original art,” he said. “I’m doing a presentation on issue number nine, since it’s such a curiosity. People are interested in how I made the mistake on Captain Fantastic’s costume.”
Finding the right drawer, he pulled out several long sheets of white cardboard and laid them on the drawing table.
“Is that the original art for number nine?” asked Violet. The cardboard sheets were covered with tissue paper.
Sid handed one of the boards to her. “Raise the tissue—it’s only hinged at the top.”
Violet lifted the tissue cover, revealing bright drawings beneath of Captain Fantastic leaping across a river.
“I thought you did the drawings in pencil and wrote down the colors for the colorist at the comic book house,” she remarked.
“You’re right,” Sid answered. “But I make full-color drawings for myself and for presentations. I also have the rough sketches, cover drawings, and the pencil finishes for each comic. They are all jumbled up, though. That’s why I need your help.”
The children sorted drawings and sketches for issue number nine. Sid chose the panels he wanted to use in his presentation. He set aside the splash page as the piece to auction off for charity.
“It should sell for a good price,” he said.
They packed the art carefully in two portfolio cases, along with slides of the rest of the art that Sid would show using a projector.
“Do you keep the art for all your comics?” Henry asked the cartoonist.
Sid nodded. “ABC Comics sends the final pencil art back. My originals are probably the most valuable things I own. Art galleries frame these pieces and sell them.”
“The counterfeiter wants the originals to number nine,” said Jessie. “Maybe he will try to steal the art at the convention.”
“I’ve thought of that,” Sid said. “I’m going to be really busy tomorrow. Will you help guard my art?”
The kids agreed.
Jessie thought, I hope the counterfeiter does try to take the art. Then we can catch him!
Sid heated some pork barbecue and the children set the table. While they ate supper, Batman and Robin gazed pleadingly at their plates.
“Shoo!” Sid said in mock anger. “You have cat food in your dishes.”
Suddenly the cats scurried into the living room, eyes round with fear, tails fluffed twice their normal size.
“They don’t act like that unless they are really spooked,” Sid said, concerned.
Henry stared out the window. “They were looking this way. Somebody—or something—out there scared them.”
Immediately everyone ran outside. They saw no one.
“Look at this!” Jessie called.
Under the dining area window, footprints marked the moist earth. A sprinkling of yellow powder edged one heel.
“That’s the same stuff we found in the library when the note was stolen,” Benny observed. He put some on his finger and sniffed. “It smells like the place where they are building the new house.”
“Fresh-cut lumber,” Henry agreed. “It’s sawdust.”
“So now we know the prowler and the person who stole our note are the same,” Jessie concluded. “And that person works where wood is cut.”
Violet placed her foot beside one of the prints. “Look how small these prints are. And not very deep. I think they were made by a woman.”
“Or a small man,” Sid added.
“Like Marvin Peabody,” Henry said. |