On the day of the invention convention, Benny woke up first. He couldn’t help it. A skinny slice of sunlight had squeezed under the window shade. That was all he needed to get out of bed. “Today’s the day,” he whispered to Ruff and Tumble. They instantly sat up on their dog bed. “Too bad you two can’t go to the convention,” Benny whispered. “I’ll give you extra dog biscuits today.”
The dogs crooned. They didn’t know about invention conventions, but they were experts in dog biscuits.
Benny padded over to the window. He yanked on the shade, which flapped up noisily. Sunlight poured into the room.
Henry covered his eyes. “Aw, Benny, it’s not even six yet,” he said after checking his watch. Tumble walked over and licked Henry’s foot, which was dangling from his sleeping bag. “All right, all right. I get the message. You guys are like alarm clocks. Oh, no! Alarm clocks,” Henry cried. “I forgot to wind the clocks in here last night so we’d wake up at midnight to try the grandfather clock. We slept through our chance.”
Violet and Jessie sat up in bed, too. Ruff and Tumble ran over to Violet for their morning head-scratching.
Jessie looked over at Henry. “I forgot, too.” She went over to the window. “We can always do it at noon. At least it’s a bright sunny day for the convention.”
Henry groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m submitting the rainy-day backpack on the sunniest day of the year!”
“I’m glad we finished our chores yesterday,” Jessie said as she went from clock to clock and wound them up again. “Now we can go searching for Alice Putter’s plan book before the convention opens.”
“And figure out what Brad is up to,” added Benny. “Hey maybe he’s keeping his invention in the clock.”
The Aldens never dawdled when something important was about to happen. They dressed, rolled up their sleeping bags, walked the dogs, prepared breakfast, and ate it, all before the clocks chimed seven.
After washing and drying the breakfast dishes, they went over to the canopy tent for a last-minute look at the displays. There was Benny’s flashlight hat along with a photograph of him wearing it. Violet wound up her jewelry arm. It played a tune as it turned, displaying the sparkling bracelets and rings Mrs. McGregor and Isabel had lent her. Jessie’s recycling wagon was neatly organized and ready to roll.
“At least it was raining in the photo you took of me wearing my rainy-day backpack,” Henry said to Violet. “Hey, it looks as if Martha put out a few more inventions that arrived yesterday afternoon. No sign of Brad’s, though.”
Benny tried on his cap one last time. He switched the flashlight on and off to make sure the new batteries were working. He put it back on the display table with the other children’s inventions. He was ready!
The Aldens combed the house from top to bottom for two hours looking for the plan book.
“Whew!” Henry said. “It’s got to be what’s in the clock. But what would Brad be doing with the plan book? Martha’s the one who acts so weird about it.”
“If it is in there, then we need to keep a watch out for Brad and Martha when it gets close to noon,” Jessie said. “Right now, we have to get outside. People are starting to arrive.”
By eleven-thirty, Isabel’s driveway was packed with cars. Henry kept busy directing drivers to the parking area. He directed the driver of a shiny black car to a special reserved parking space. “Know who’s in that car?” Henry asked when Benny, Jessie, and Violet came over. “It’s Mr. Marshall, the invention lawyer we tried to see yesterday. He showed me his judge’s badge. If we hurry, maybe we can catch him before Martha does.”
Benny raced back to get his hat and put it on. “Do you think it’s okay to ask him about it?”
But Martha had found Mr. Marshall first. The Aldens watched him hand her back the big envelope she had given him at the diner.
“He’s shaking his head,” Jessie noted. “Martha looks disappointed. The riddle book must not have proved what she thought it would.”
Isabel and Grandfather walked over to the children. “Before the judging, I’d like to go over some final instructions with all of you and with Martha. Oh, she’s talking with Robert Marshall,” Isabel said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to him. He knows all about inventions. In fact, he’s one of our judges.”
The Aldens followed Isabel over to Martha and Mr. Marshall.
Mr. Marshall shook all of their hands as Isabel made introductions. “Alden? Alden? Where have I heard that name?” he asked. “Oh, yes, from my assistant, Mrs. Page. Would you be the children who came to my office yesterday with an invention?”
Benny nodded. “I’m one of those kids, and this is the hat I invented.”
Mr. Marshall smiled. “Mrs. Page said you almost blinded her.”
Is that good or bad? Benny wondered. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Mr. Marshall clapped Benny on the back. “No need to be sorry. Your flashlight baseball hat looks mighty useful to me. What good would it be without a bright light on it?”
Benny was beaming — and not just from his flashlight.
Martha was the only person who wasn’t beaming. “Isabel, now that you’re here, we need to get something settled before the convention starts. I showed Mr. Marshall these.” She opened the large envelope and slipped out two plan books, numbers eight and ten, along with the riddle book the children had found, and a yellow notebook. “This explains everything.”
Isabel pulled her glasses from her pocket. “What are you doing with those plan books? They belong in the library room cabinet. And what does Grandma Alice’s riddle book have to do with anything?”
Martha looked angry. “This riddle book was not made by Alice Putter!” She looked at Mr. Marshall. “Robert, tell her.”
Mr. Marshall shifted from one foot to the other. He didn’t look happy to be there. He took the riddle book from Martha and turned to Isabel. “Have you read the inscription?”
Isabel took a closer look. “I suppose I did when I was a child. I haven’t seen this book since then. It says: To My Grandchildren. Grandma Alice often wrote that in books she made and books she bought for her grandchildren. I’m confused, Robert.”
“You won’t be for long,” Martha said.
Mr. Marshall looked as if he wanted to escape. “If you look closely, that’s not your grandmother’s handwriting, Isabel. One of my partners and I went through Alice’s files in our office, along with these two plan books and a yellow notebook Martha gave me that belongs to her family. The riddle book doesn’t match Alice’s drawings or handwriting. What it does match is the writing and artwork in the yellow notebook. That notebook belonged to Martha’s grandfather, Otis Carver. Martha told me he once lived in Alice’s house. That might explain the mix-up.”
Isabel still looked confused. “I’m sorry that the riddle book was left at our family’s house, Martha. Of course, you may take it. But what does this explain?”
Martha stared at Isabel. “What it explains is that your family hid the missing plan book. You hid it because it proves that Alice Putter didn’t design all the inventions she got credit for. My grandfather — ”
Mr. Marshall coughed several times, interrupting Martha. “Now, look here, Martha. Without the missing plan book, you can’t prove that. Alice Putter was a very talented inventor. She and your grandfather had a great friendship. Let’s not taint that with those accusations.”
Martha glared. “If we had the plan book, I could prove them.”
Before Isabel had a chance to say anything, another judge ran over to Mr. Marshall. “Robert!” the woman said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You must come over to the displays right away. You won’t believe your eyes! At the last minute, a young man just dropped off the most remarkable clock. Wait until you see it.”
Mr. Marshall followed the other judge to the canopy the Aldens had set up near the garden. Isabel, Martha, and the Aldens followed along, too. A big crowd had formed around one of the display tables.
“What’s all this?” Mr. Marshall asked as he made his way under the canopy to see what the commotion was all about. He had to show his judge’s badge so people would step aside to let him through along with the Aldens, Isabel, and Martha.
Mr. Percy and Brad were standing in the center of the crowd. Brad was smiling and answering questions different onlookers asked him. Mr. Percy raised his hand to ask Brad a question as well, but the young man ignored him.
“Well, what’s all the fuss ...oh, my ...” Mr. Marshall stopped and stared up at a magnificent wooden clock hanging from the canopy pole.
The other judge was staring up at the clock, too. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that looks like an original Alice Putter clock. It’s so similar to the garden clock that a donor lent us. Except ...”
“It’s a clock and an outdoor birdhouse and feeder,” Brad said proudly. His smile faded a bit. “Of course, I’m not quite finished. I haven’t painted it. And there’s still a bit of tinkering to do before it ... works.”
“Well, I must say, working or not working, this clock is charming,” Isabel told Brad.
The second judge nodded in agreement. “I haven’t seen anything like it since ... well, since Alice Putter.”
Jessie stepped in front of Brad. “Where did you get the idea?”
“I guess you could say the inspiration struck at midnight,” he answered smugly.
Suddenly, Benny had the answer. “So that’s why you needed the plan book!” Benny said, putting the pieces together.
Brad’s face went white. “What are you talking about?” he said.
Jessie’s eyes widened as she realized what Benny was saying. She stared at Brad. “Your clock is as great as an Alice Putter clock because it is an Alice Putter clock!” she said.
Henry glanced at his watch. “And in three minutes we can prove it.”
“Just follow us to the house,” Benny told the crowd, then took off running. The confused bystanders followed behind.
As everyone crammed into the entryway of the house, the clocks struck noon. A symphony of clock sounds surrounded them.
Benny bent down and carefully pulled on the grandfather clock’s wooden panel. It sprang open immediately. Isabel gasped.
Benny switched on his flashlight hat, then looked inside the clock. He pulled out a notebook with a black leather cover and handed it to Isabel. “This is where Brad got the idea for the clock.”
“Grandma Alice’s plan book!” Isabel said. She opened the inside cover. “It’s number nine!” She turned to Brad. “How did you know my grandmother hid the plan book in there?”
Everyone stared at Brad, waiting for his answer.
He turned away from all the curious faces. “From Martha,” he mumbled. “I overheard her reading a riddle from a book. I’ve worked in this house for a few years now. Some of the old-timers who did work around here, too, told me stories about finding all kinds of crazy things hidden behind paintings, inside statues. One worker discovered a riddle under a windowsill he was painting. When he figured it out, it led him to a toy fire truck hidden in the broom closet.”
“That sounds exactly like something Grandma Alice would do,” Isabel said with a faint smile on her face. “And probably Martha’s grandfather, too. I remember so many times the two of them sent us off on treasure hunts with just a riddle or puzzle to go by.”
Martha stepped forward. “Take a look at it, Mr. Marshall.”
Mr. Marshall took the plan book. No one spoke while he slowly flipped through the pages. At last, he shut the book. “This is Alice Putter’s plan book all right,” he finally declared. “But it’s not hers alone. Many of the inventions in this plan book, including Brad’s birdhouse clock and this grandfather clock, were planned by Alice Putter with Otis Carver. That’s his handwriting detailing all the colors to use on nearly every single object. It looks like Alice designed the clocks and Otis painted them. The silly riddles written in the margins appear to have been invented by both of them. Of course, most of the clocks in this plan book were never actually made. I guess that’s why you thought you could get away with this, Brad.”
Brad looked away.
“So Grandma Alice and Otis created the inventions and artworks together,” Isabel said, letting out a deep breath. She turned to Martha. “Is that what you were trying to prove?”
“Not exactly” Martha said. “I heard my grandfather tell stories about all the fantastic clocks and other inventions he came up with in this house. I just thought Alice Putter took credit for them. And I thought you hid the missing plan book so there would be no proof. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, Isabel.” Martha looked sad. “We used to be such good friends and here I’ve been, sneaking around and trying to prove you had something to hide. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry, Martha,” Isabel said, hugging her. “If we had worked together like the Aldens did, we might have solved the clues our grandparents left us and discovered the plan book long ago. Grandma Alice and Granddad Otis would want us to be friends again.”
“And we are,” said Martha, hugging Isabel back.
Isabel went over to Brad. “But I don’t think you and I can be friends any longer, Brad. You tried to pass off Grandma Alice’s and Otis’s invention as your own. I’m afraid I can no longer trust you to work here.”
Brad looked embarrassed. “I’m really sorry. I know what I did was wrong.” He looked at the two judges. “I guess I’m disqualified from the competition, huh?”
Mr. Marshall nodded sternly.
As Brad walked out of the house, the grandfather clock chimed the half hour. Mr. Marshall smiled at the sound of it. “I guess it’s time to begin the judging,” he said. “I haven’t looked at all the other Junior Division entries yet, but I’d like to award Benny a special prize right now.”
Benny looked up at Mr. Marshall and practically blinded him with the flashlight. “For what?”
“For solving the mystery of the grandfather clock — and looking inside it with your very useful hat.”
“Here, here!” someone cried.
Benny took off his flashlight hat and waved it over his head. “Hats off!” he shouted. Then he walked over to Henry and put his hat on his older brother’s head.
“Finally!” Henry said. |