American Progress Page 11

  “No, I’m all right,” Maureen said. She knew Mother had gone over to Aunt Annie’s, and there was no need to upset her.

  While Maureen recovered, Mark told Mrs. Hoag about the tunnel.

  “I didn’t know it existed,” Mrs. Hoag said. “I wonder why Franklin didn’t tell me about it. Maybe he didn’t know.”

  That didn’t seem very likely to Maureen. If she’d lived in this wonderful old house, she’d have explored every inch of it and known all the secret closets and stairs and tunnels. She figured Franklin had played in that tunnel when he was young.

  “We need to go back and hang up that lantern,” Maureen said. “The thieves might come back and find out we know about the tunnel.”

  “They might already know,” Mrs. Hoag said, “because of the time you used the powder. When they raised that trapdoor, all the talcum powder you put on it slid to the edge, and in that big amount, they would have noticed it and wiped it up. They must have missed that one footprint on the step.”

  “We still ought to put the lantern back,” Mark said. “They know we knew about the staircase, but we didn’t know then about the tunnel.”

  “You may be right,” Mrs. Hoag said. “We’ll see what the police say about it this time. Maybe now they won’t think I’m imagining things.”

  She telephoned the police station, and an hour later a policeman knocked on the door. He was not the one Mrs. Hoag had talked to before, so she had to tell him the whole story from the beginning.

  “I’d like to see the tunnel,” the policeman said.

  “We’ll show you,” Mark said. Maureen watched him pry up the trapdoor. Now that they knew it was there, Maureen could see a vague outline of it. But if a person wasn’t looking, it was nearly invisible.

  Maureen’s head felt better and she didn’t want to miss out on the excitement, so she got the lantern from the top of the stairs and followed Mark, the policeman, and Mrs. Hoag back through the tunnel to the creek bluff. It seemed like a shorter walk now that they knew where it led.

  They inched their way along the narrow ledge by the water, and the policeman helped Mrs. Hoag climb up using the natural footholds. They carried the extra lantern and walked back to the house on Mrs. Hoag’s land.

  Once they were back inside the mansion, Mrs. Hoag got the “What We Know” list and showed it to the policeman. He took it with him when he left and said he would call about getting a policeman to stay there for the night so they could catch the thieves.

  Cataloging seemed dull work after the excitement, so they only worked an hour before quitting. Mrs. Hoag thought Mark had worked long enough.

  “It’s hard to go home,” Mark said as they went downstairs. “Mother is so sad.”

  “Let’s have a cup of tea before you leave,” Mrs. Hoag suggested. She had Bertha bring the tea service to the Oriental Room.

  “Mark,” she began once they were all served, “your father was a good man, and it will take your mother a long time to get over his passing. It took me two years of being alone before I was ready to move on in life. Your mother can’t take that long because she has you children to guide and care for. But it will take her awhile to lose the dullness in her eyes.”

  “I don’t like being alone,” Mark said with tears in his eyes. “It makes me think too much. I prayed that God would make me stop thinking about Father, but it didn’t help.”

  “I did that, too,” Maureen said. “I wondered … if God answers all prayers, why didn’t He make the sadness go away? Mother said that God wants us to remember our loved ones. That His answer to my prayer was to give me time to grieve and to see that death is the natural way of things.”

  “Your mother’s very wise,” Mrs. Hoag said. “God gives us the gift of time. And He makes us think so we can remember. I still recall Franklin’s laugh.”

  “Uncle Albert was very kind,” Maureen said. “And thoughtful.” She fingered her teddy bear pendant as she spoke.

  “He read a lot of books,” Mark said. “And he smiled a lot. He was a brave man, Mother said last night, because he always stood up for what was right.”

  “Your family talked about him last night?” Mrs. Hoag asked.

  “Mother said the more we talk about Father, the more he will stay with us and the hurt will go away.”

  “Your mother’s very wise, too,” Mrs. Hoag said. They talked more about memories and how important they were.

  “You want to eat at my house?” Maureen asked Mark when they had finished their tea. “Father will soon be home.”

  He nodded, and they rode their bicycles to Maureen’s home. When Father came home for the noon meal, they told him about the tunnel.

  “We didn’t tell the policeman about the survey stake,” Mark said.

  “I thought about telling Mrs. Hoag,” Maureen said, “but should we cast a bad light on Sidney Orr when we don’t know for sure?”

  “What’s this about Sidney Orr?” Father asked.

  Mark explained, and Father promised he would check through Uncle Albert’s appointment book to see if Mr. Orr had talked to him about a loan to build houses.

  “Of course, there are many other banks that would lend him money, but I’ll see what I can find out about him. And, Mark, I know I can never take the place of your father, but if you ever want to talk about anything, please know you can come to me.” Father ruffled Mark’s hair as he spoke.

  “Thank you, Uncle Theodore,” Mark said. “I’ll remember.”

  On Friday morning, Maureen and Mark hoped the police would have some news, but Mrs. Hoag said there had been no break-in. A policeman had stayed all night in the French Room, but there had been no sound from the secret staircase.

  “Was there a certain day that we had break-ins?” Mrs. Hoag asked while they worked in the Mexico Room. “The police are going to stay one more night, but they asked if there was a certain night when the robberies occurred.”

  “It was on Thursday after the birds were killed that we saw the powder footprint,” Mark said. “I don’t remember the other footprint, but it had rained before then.”

  “The robbers could have taken the Remington any time before we noticed it was gone,” Maureen said.

  “So there’s no real pattern,” Mrs. Hoag said. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  On Saturday, Mark rode his bicycle over to Maureen’s before going to the cemetery, and they stopped by Mrs. Hoag’s to see if there had been a break-in. Again, no one had climbed the secret stairs. The police had told Mrs. Hoag that they couldn’t spare a man that evening but would try to continue the stakeout the next week.

  “I think it will be tonight,” Mark said as he and Maureen rode their bicycles to the cemetery to put lilacs on his father’s grave. “I wish we could stay there. My father would have said we should stay with Mrs. Hoag.”

  “Uncle Albert would have said that?” Maureen asked.

  “He was the bravest man alive,” Mark said. “Mother said he always stood up for what was right, and helping Mrs. Hoag is right.”

  Maureen agreed. “But we can’t stay there. Mother won’t let us.”

  “Maybe Uncle Theodore will. He said I could talk to him.”

  They put the lilacs on the grave, and Mark stepped back. “Father liked us helping Mrs. Hoag. He said she needed us, and she needs us tonight. I won’t let Father down. He would have done this, and we will.”

  Maureen was not as convinced that Uncle Albert would have allowed them to stay at Mrs. Hoag’s, but she didn’t say so. Instead, she rode her bicycle downtown to the bank with Mark, where Father was busy on Saturday morning.

  They waited a few minutes before they got to see him, but as soon as they were in Father’s office, Mark said, “You told me I could talk to you.” He explained about them staying at the mansion waiting for the robbers.

  “Don’t you think this is a job for the police?” Father asked.

  “They won’t stay tonight, so could we?”

  “I’ll have to speak to your moth
er,” Father said. Maureen couldn’t see Aunt Annie being agreeable to the plan, but she didn’t say so, and she was surprised when Father hung up the phone and said the plan was on. “But I’m staying, too, and you have to agree to my rules. By the way, I checked Albert’s appointment book, but there was no listing for Sidney Orr. You may be off base on that being a survey stake for housing. It may just be a marker for the robbers, since it was above the tunnel.”

  Maureen was glad to hear that. Since Mr. Orr had given her the rose, she’d had a special place for him in her heart. She had put the rose in a vase in her room for a while. Then she had pressed it in a book so she could keep it always. She also didn’t want to tell Mrs. Hoag that her friend would do something dishonorable.

  She didn’t mention Sidney Orr when they stopped back by Mrs. Hoag’s to tell her about the plan.

  “Theodore called me,” she said. “I think tonight will be the night they’ll come, too.”

  Father’s rules were very simple. Maureen and Mark could stay in the Western Room with him, but if there was the slightest sound from the French Room and the secret staircase, they were to slip safely into the little hidden closet and stay there. Father would signal Mrs. Hoag to call the police, who were on alert to come right over to the house and to the tunnel.

  By eight o’clock, the plan was in place. Father sat by the door into the Western Room so he could quickly move downstairs. Maureen and Mark were behind tables nearby.

  “Do you think they’ll come before midnight?” Mark asked.

  “No. Robbers would come in the dead of night, wouldn’t they?” Maureen asked.

  They heard the downstairs clock strike ten, eleven, and twelve. After that Maureen nodded off and didn’t awake until six hours later. Early morning sunlight poured in the east windows.

  “They didn’t come?” she asked, disappointed.

  “Not a sound,” Father said. “I’m sure I would have awakened if they had come in. And no footprints.” Mark had convinced them to put a light dusting of powder beside the secret panel in the French Room that led to the staircase in the wall.

  “Maybe they will come tonight,” Mark said with a yawn.

  “Now wait a minute, Mark,” Father said. “I agreed to one night.”

  “But the police won’t stay again until Monday. We have to catch these thieves. They might harm Mrs. Hoag.”

  “I don’t think she’s in danger of that since they’ve had plenty of opportunity,” Father said. “But I’ll think about it.”

  They went to Maureen’s house for breakfast, then they got dressed for Sunday school and church.

  “Don’t tell anyone what we did,” Maureen warned Mark as they loaded into the automobile for the ride to church. “And let me talk to your mother.”

  It was the first time church had been held since Uncle Albert had died, and the minister remembered Aunt Annie and her family in the opening prayer and the closing one as well. Maureen could tell that Mark was feeling very sad when the service was over. He avoided looking her in the eyes and made his way quickly outside.

  Aunt Annie’s family was eating Sunday dinner at the Stevensons’, so it was there that Maureen cornered her and asked about that night’s repeat plan.

  “Mark thinks Uncle Albert would have wanted him to help Mrs. Hoag,” she said.

  “Albert did think you and Mark had done a Christian service to Mrs. Hoag to bring her out of mourning,” Aunt Annie said. “If Theodore will stay again, I have no objections.”

  Maureen told Mark, and together they talked to Father, who reluctantly agreed that they would try the plan again.

  That night, they took their same positions. Just as the night before, Maureen heard the clock strike ten and eleven. Then she must have dozed. She awoke with a start when she felt a hand over her mouth. In the dim moonlight, she saw Mark right beside her. It was his hand. She nodded to let him know he could let go of her and she wouldn’t speak.

  She glanced around the table toward the Western Room door and saw Father standing beside it. He was motioning for them to get in the hidden closet as he tiptoed toward the big staircase to reach the telephone.

  Maureen heard muffled footsteps coming from the French Room. She rose as quietly as she could and, with Mark, made her way to the closet. They had left the panel ajar so the sound of the spring-loaded door opening wouldn’t alert the robbers. As they scrunched down inside, they left it open a sliver so they could see.

  Father had disappeared down the stairs when the thieves stepped into the Western Room. From her vantage point, Maureen saw two figures walk cautiously into the room. One held a lantern, and the other held another statue.

  “This is heavy. Why couldn’t we take one of those vases downstairs?” one man said in a low voice.

  “This is the last one we exchange up here. Next week we’ll get lighter stuff,” the other man said. “Maybe we can get several things in one trip.”

  “Quiet, be quiet.” Maureen recognized Ruthie’s voice as she waddled into the Western Room.

  “What!”

  “It’s that parrot again. Hurry up, let’s get out of here. That bird might wake up the old lady.”

  The men exchanged the statues and headed back to the French Room.

  “They’re getting away,” Mark whispered. “Uncle Theodore hasn’t had time to get downstairs yet.” He pushed the secret panel open.

  “Mark,” Maureen hissed, “get back here.” But he rushed out before she could stop him, so she bolted after him.

  “What?” one of the men yelled.

  “Quiet, be quiet,” Ruthie squawked.

  “We’ve got company!” the other man yelled.

  Mark had reached the one carrying the statue, and he jumped on his back. Thrown off balance and unable to defend himself because he was holding the statue, the man tumbled to the floor.

  “Get him off me!” he yelled at the other thief.

  For an instant, Maureen stood frozen in fear, then she tackled the second thief. She was no match for him, and he threw her across the room as if she were a rag doll. He pulled Mark off the other man and grabbed the statue.

  “Run!” he shouted, taking off for the French Room.

  The man on the floor scrambled to his feet as Mark jumped him again. He shook Mark off and dashed to the secret stairs.

  “Mark?” Maureen rushed to where he lay on the floor.

  “I’m all right,” he mumbled. “They got away.”

  Father ran into the room. “Are you all right? I told you to stay in the hidden room. I should never have left you up here.” He hugged them both.

  Mrs. Hoag scurried into the Western Room.

  “They got away,” Mark repeated. “But at least they’re in the dark.” He motioned to the lantern that the thieves had left behind.

  CHAPTER 14

  A Gift to America

  The police are on their way,” Father said. “They know to go to the creek. All we can do is wait.”

  Maureen scurried over to the windows and looked out toward the creek. Mark, Father, and Mrs. Hoag followed and crowded against the windows. Even though the moon was half full, Maureen couldn’t make out anything for a minute or so.

  Then from the street she saw two horses and riders heading toward the creek bluff. The police had arrived.

  Once the men rode to the creek, Maureen’s sight was blocked by tree limbs now laden with new leaves.

  “The police will get them now,” Mark said. “I wonder who they are.”

  Maureen and Mark stared into the night for long minutes until they saw the policemen come back into sight. This time they were afoot with two other men.

  “Thank the Lord they got them,” Mrs. Hoag said as they filed downstairs. “Maybe I can have a whole night’s rest now.”

  A policeman came to the door and reported that the thieves were being taken to jail. “We’ll let you know tomorrow what we find out,” he promised.

  “It’s time we went on home,” Father said. “My bed will
feel mighty comfortable now. Mark, you can stay at our house for the rest of the night.”

  Maureen didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but fatigue overcame her and she actually slept until almost eight o’clock the next morning. She quickly dressed and hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where she found Mark eating a bowl of oatmeal.

  “I can’t believe I slept so long,” she said. “Let’s go to Mrs. Hoag’s.”

  “First some breakfast, Maureen,” her mother said. “I doubt that the police will call Mrs. Hoag until later this morning.”

  Maureen ate her oatmeal in big gulps, while Mark called his mother and told her about the night’s excitement. As soon as Mother would let them, Maureen and Mark rode down to Mrs. Hoag’s mansion.

  “Any news?” Mark asked when Mrs. Hoag let them inside.

  “Not a word, but I’ll call them if they don’t call this morning,” she said. “Meanwhile, should we get back to work on the Mexico Room to pass the time?”

  They discussed the events of the night in detail as they sat in the Mexico Room looking at various musical instruments and big sombreros. There were some sculptures mixed in, but the room didn’t have any paintings.

  “We should finish this today,” Mrs. Hoag said.

  But they didn’t.

  A policeman arrived and thoughts of cataloging fled from their minds.

  They took their usual seats in the Oriental Room while the policeman told the story of the break-ins.

  “One of the men, Jack Mercer, talked long and loud. He and his partner, Al Beechman, were hired to steal valuable art pieces from the house and replace them with lesser works.”

  “But why replace them? And who hired them?”

  “They were hired by Sidney Orr,” the policeman said.

  Mrs. Hoag gasped. “Surely you’re mistaken.”

  “No. We arrested him this morning. He had the Remington bronze statue and other objects hidden in a closet in his home.”

  “This can’t be,” Mrs. Hoag said. “He’s been a good friend to me. Why would he do this? If he needed money, he had only to ask.”

  “Did Mr. Orr poison the birds?” Maureen asked.