Uh-oh!” said Henry.
“We’ll help you clean it up,” said Violet.
“Don’t worry,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. She walked quickly to the overturned box. “But be careful! Some of these papers are very, very old.”
Benny knelt down by the box. “Look,” he said. “A picture!”
“That’s Mr. Fitzhugh,” said Mrs. Ashleigh.
“The pirate!” Benny gasped, his eyes round.
“Maybe so,” Mrs. Ashleigh answered. “We can just put the papers back in the box. I have to go through them anyway.”
“Look at this,” said Jessie.
“Is it a pirate’s map for treasure?” asked Benny excitedly.
Jessie laughed. “No, Benny. But it is a drawing of something.”
“The original plans for the house that Mr. Fitzhugh built in Charleston. And here are the original plans for the Pirate’s Gate. They all go in this envelope,” said Mrs. Ashleigh.
“These should be in a safe place,” said Henry.
Mrs. Ashleigh nodded. “I know. I’m going to go through them and give them to the local museum.”
“Does the museum have dinosaurs in it?” asked Benny. He was thinking about another mystery the Aldens had solved.
“No, Benny, it’s not that kind of museum,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “It’s a museum about Charleston.”
“We can help you go through the papers, too,” said Jessie. “It will be fun.”
“We’ll start right away!” agreed Henry.
Mrs. Ashleigh held up her hand. “Tomorrow is soon enough. Right now, I think it’s time for dinner.”
“Good,” said Benny. “We’ve worked hard today. We even solved a mystery. That always makes me hungry!”
In the next few days, the sounds of hammers and saws could be heard all over the island as people repaired their houses. The Boxcar Children worked hard helping Mrs. Ashleigh. Soon they’d finished moving furniture and were nailing new floorboards on the porch. They put fresh paint on all the window frames and shutters. When the porch was ready, they planned to paint that, too. They also ran errands and, in the late afternoons, explored the island and played on the wide, smooth beaches.
One day, on their way to the small island grocery store to pick up milk for Mrs. Ashleigh, they saw Diana working on a house. She waved them over.
“How’s everything going?” Diana asked. She reknotted the rubber band she had around her ponytail and smoothed her hair back.
The Aldens told her what they’d been doing and asked Diana questions about her work. She told them a couple of stories about the island and asked them questions about Mrs. Ashleigh and her house.
“That house of hers is one of the oldest on the island,” said Diana. “It’s been here since the 1800s and has survived lots and lots of hurricanes. They just don’t build them like they used to!”
“We saw the plans for Mrs. Ashleigh’s house in Charleston,” Henry said. “They’re in the old papers that we’re helping her sort out.”
“Really?” said Diana. “Well, well, well. Soon you’ll be looking for old Mr. Fitzhugh’s pirate treasure, too, won’t you?”
“How did you know about that?” cried Benny.
“Oh, everybody knows about that story,” said Diana. “It’s a good one. Part of Charleston history.”
“You don’t believe there’s really any treasure?” asked Jessie.
“Nah. And I wouldn’t waste my time looking for make-believe treasure,” said Diana. “I’ve got too much work to do. Time is money and I need all the money I can get.”
She shook her head. “A hurricane is a bad thing, but it’s meant a lot of work for me. But then, I guess you could say disaster repair is my specialty. Hurricanes, earthquakes — ”
“Earthquakes, too?” asked Benny.
“Well, I lived in San Francisco for a while, near the Golden Gate Bridge. San Francisco has lots of earthquakes. I helped people earthquake-proof their houses. But Charleston’s had earthquakes, too.”
Diana picked up her hammer.
“Well, we won’t keep you from your work,” said Henry politely.
“See you later,” said Diana. “Happy treasure hunting.” She laughed.
“Everybody knows about Mr. Fitzhugh’s treasure,” said Benny, discouraged, as they walked away. “If they haven’t found it, how can we?”
“It sounds as if most people don’t even believe there is a treasure,” said Violet.
“It sounds to me as if she was trying to discourage us from looking for the treasure,” said Jessie. “Like she doesn’t want us to believe there is one.”
“So she can look for it herself?” Henry asked. “Hmmm. Maybe so.”
“Because we could solve the mystery and find the treasure first,” said Benny. “I’d like that.”
“We all would,” said Henry.
“Let’s go look at those papers right now!” Benny urged.
“We have to stop at the grocery store first, Benny,” Violet reminded him.
“I’ll wait here with Watch,” said Benny.
Henry, Jessie, and Violet went into the store to buy milk. Suddenly Henry said, “I have an idea. Let’s make a pretend map and put it on top of the papers. We can let Benny find it and we can go on a treasure hunt tomorrow afternoon when we finish working.”
“Oh, Benny will like that,” said Jessie. She pointed and laughed. “And I have an idea for the treasure we can bury!”
“Do you want me to carry the milk for you?” Benny asked Violet when they came out of the store. But Violet shook her head and kept a firm hold on the grocery bag.
“Thanks, but I’ll carry it, Benny,” she said.
“Come on, then!” said Benny. He and Watch raced ahead and his brother and sisters hurried to catch up.
When they had put the groceries away, the children hurried to the study. The door was closed. And when Henry reached out to turn the knob, they heard the sound of an angry voice coming from inside.
“Why won’t you listen to me?” a man almost shouted.
“Because it’s my house, not yours!” said another quieter voice, fiercely.
“That’s Mrs. Ashleigh!” gasped Violet.
“Well, it won’t be yours for long,” said the man. “You’d better sell before something worse happens to it. And to you!”
The door to the study slammed open and a tall man stormed out. He didn’t even seem to see the Aldens standing in the hall. “Stubborn,” he muttered under his breath. “She’ll be sorry!” He stomped to the front door, slamming it on his way out.
Jessie rushed into the study with the others behind her. Mrs. Ashleigh had slumped into a chair by the window. She was staring out, her hands on her cheeks.
“Mrs. Ashleigh,” said Jessie, trying to sound calm. “Are you all right?”
Mrs. Ashleigh looked up slowly. She blinked, as if surprised to see everyone. Then she shook her head. “I’m fine, dear. It’s just that . . .” Her voice trailed off and she sighed.
“Who was that? Why was he threatening you?” said Henry. “We could hear him all the way out in the hall.”
Mrs. Ashleigh didn’t seem to hear Henry. She turned to stare out the window again. “It’s my house,” she said. “I’m not going to sell it. No matter what happens. And he can’t make me. No matter how much money anyone offers me. This is my home.”
“Who’s trying to make you sell your house?” asked Jessie.
“Who was that mean man?” asked Benny.
Mrs. Ashleigh turned back to look at them. A sad smile crossed her face. “That mean man,” she said, “was my son, Forrest Ashleigh.”
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