MAKING IT OFFICIAL
by
RM
Chapter 9
THE CHAPTERS
Returning
to the Fieldstone Estate, the Hardy’s once again began the trek along the
path to the run-down hut. They once again stepped inside and saw it was
just as they had left it.
“All
right,” Fenton said. “We’ll keep looking around.”
As
Fenton and Joe resumed the search, Frank pulled out the paper he had been
working on. He pinpointed the different pieces of furniture on his sketch
and added the ones he had missed. By the time he was finished, he checked
and double-checked everything that was in the room was on his drawing.
When
he was finished, Frank refolded the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. He
slowly made his way over to the gaping hole in the floor. He crouched down
and looked into the hole.
“Dad,
can you bring a light over her?” Frank asked.
“What
have you got?” Fenton asked, moving over to Frank.
Frank
glanced up at the ceiling and saw a hole in the boards. He looked back at
what was left of the floor and could easily make out the water damage. He
could also make out the actual opening in the floor.
“I
think this was used as a cellar,” Frank said. “If you look closely, the
boards that were broken and fell with me probably fit perfectly over this
hole. This had to be way into the cellar.”
“But
if this was the entrance to the cellar, where is the ladder, or whatever
was used to get up and down?” Joe asked. “Dad had to bring the ladder
in from outside.”
“It’s
possible that when they finally left here, they pulled the ladder out and
just closed the door,” Fenton said.
“I
think we need to take a look down there,” Frank said.
“I’ll
go,” Joe said. “Mom would strangle us if you hurt anymore.”
Frank
watched Joe moved around the hole and then stop. Joe asked, “Where’s
the ladder we used? We left I here after we pulled Frank out.”
They
looked around. The ladder wasn’t there.”
“Maybe
it’s outside,” Fenton said, heading toward the door.
“I’m
going down anyway,” Joe said, handing Frank his flashlight.
Frank
took hold of Joe’s arm before he could slip into the dark hole. “How
are you going to get up if Dad can’t find the ladder?”
“I’ll
find a way,” Joe said.
“I
found it,” Fenton said, coming in carrying the ladder. He moved over to
the hold and slid it down. “It was hidden in some brush beside the
building.”
“Someone
purposely dragged it out of here,” Joe said. “Because we left it in
here when we left.”
“But
who?” Frank asked. “And why?”
“We’ll
just have to figure that out.” Joe stepped on the ladder and began his
descent.
Frank
watched as Joe reached the bottom. He tossed Joe a flashlight and watched
as the cellar became bathed in light.
“Is
there anything down there?” Fenton asked.
“A
lot of dust,” Joe said. “And cobwebs. It doesn’t look like anyone has
been down here in years.”
“What
is down there, Joe?” Frank asked.
“Well,
there are a lot of shelves,” Joe said, stepping out of their view. “And
there are a bunch of jars. It’s possible this is where they stored
stuff.”
“Can
you see anything in the jars?” Fenton asked.
“The
jars look black in the light. I’m not even going to try and open the.”
“That’s
fine,” Fenton said. “What else is there?”
“Nothing
really, except for the dirt.”
Frank
sighed. He couldn’t believe they had come to a dead end. He had though
the lead they need would be down there.
“Wait
a second,” Joe said.
“What
have you got?” Fenton asked.
“There’s
this table by the wall,” Joe answered. “It has a drawer in it.”
They
listened as they heard Joe grunt to open the drawer and then a thud.
“Oh,
man,” Joe said.
“What
is it?” Fenton asked.
“There’s
a revolver down here,” Joe said. “It looks really old.”
“Anything
else?” Fenton asked.
“Just
a few more papers,” Joe said. “I think this place is just a dead end.
I’m coming up.”
A
moment later, Joe climbed out of the hole. He handed the papers to his
father and brushed the dirt from his jeans.
“I
honestly don’t think the chest of coins is here,” Joe said.
“Frederick probably used all the coins before he died.”
“That
definitely seems like a possibility,” Fenton said.
“Well,
since we checked the place over, I suggest we head on out,” Frank said.
“I
agree,” Fenton said. “Maybe something we’ve seen today or come across
in these papers will be the lead we need.”
“Then
let’s go.”
*
* * * *
That
evening, Frank was in his room working on his vows for the wedding. He knew
he needed to get this done. He had been jotting down ideas for several
weeks, but he hadn’t gotten it to what he wanted. He knew he was going to
express his feelings from his heart and wanted the words to be something
Caren would always remember. But he had a hard time getting it to flow
smoothly.
As
he leaned back from his desk, he let out a breath. There was a lot he
wanted to put into it, but didn’t want to go overboard.
Knowing
he still had some time, he decided to set it aside and focus on something
else.
After
putting the papers in his center desk drawer, he opened Frederick
Fieldstone’s journal and resumed scanning it for any clues. He returned
to the first entry he had found alluding to the treasure. He went to the
next entry and started reading.
1
November
“The weather was not
the best this last week. Took the fish into town to sell since have more
than enough to last for a while. Weather seems to be changing. Winter will
be here soon. Children stockpiling wood for the winter. I feel it will be a
cold one. But we will survive. We have been blessed this year. And our good
fortune will hopefully continue.”
1
December
“Winter came early.
The wind off the bay is something fierce. Working to stockpile more wood
for file. Children are cold, but trying not to complain. Littlest one has
high fever. Doctor has been out. Just waiting for fever to break. Know
little one will be all right.”
3
December
“Our little angel is
gone. Doctor said the fever was too much for Esther. She seemed to get
better yesterday. But turned for the worst last night. Doctor said we did
all we could. This is terrible.”
18
February
“Been too busy to
write. Heavy snowstorm came in off the bay late December. Several feet
buried the door and windows. Took time to dig ourselves out. Luckily had
plenty of provisions stockpiled for such event. Children are going stir
crazy unable to get outside. Once finally got door cleared, another storm
came and almost buried us again. Not as much snow, but troubling. May
consider moving family into town next winter.”
Knock,
knock.
Frank
lowered the journal. “Come in.”
The
door opened and he smiled as Caren stepped into his room. He said, “Hello
there.”
“Hello.”
Caren leaned over and gave him a kiss. “How are you?”
“I’m
all right. You?” Frank dropped the journal on his desk.
Caren
smiled. “Much better now that I’ve seen you.”
“Is
everything all right?” Frank asked, noticing the tired look in her eyes.
“I’m
fine. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed with everything that’s been
going on. I mean, in three days, we’ll be married.”
“I
can’t wait,” Frank said, taking Caren’s arm and pulling her down onto
his lap. She set her purse and notebook on his desk.
“Neither
can I.” Caren nestled her head on Frank’s shoulder. “Why don’t we
elope?”
Frank
chuckled, knowing Caren wasn’t serious. “Sure, where do you want to go
and who is telling your folks?”
“You
can tell them,” Caren stated.
“I
don’t think so,” Frank protested. “Your Dad already dislikes me.
I’m not going to give him a reason to hate me.”
“Dad
likes you,” Caren said.
“Oh,
really? Then why does he give me dirty looks whenever our eyes meet?”
“He
is just watching to make sure you really do love me and that you would do
everything in your power to keep me safe.”
“I’d
give my life for you,” Frank said and placed a kiss on her head.
“I
know you would,” Caren said softly.
“So,
what made you decide we should elope?” Frank asked after a few minutes of
silence.
“I
just through we could get it over with,” Caren said. “I mean, I’m
excited we are getting married, but with everything that has to be done, I
want it over.”
“Caren,
if something is too much, delegate it to someone else or just let it go.
This wedding shouldn’t make you stressed. It should be a happy time for
all of us.”
“I
know.”
Frank
noticed something in Caren’s voice and had a feeling something specific
had happened. She seemed really stressed.
“What
is it, Caren? What happened today?”
Caren
sat up and looked down at the floor. Frank had a feeling whatever she said
was something he didn’t want to hear. He cupped her chin in his hand and
slowly lifted it so their eyes met. “Caren?”
She
sighed. “I got into an argument with my Mom,” she said quietly.
“What
did you argue about?”
“I
was having my dress fitting and the seamstress was checking the last minute
alterations so it’s ready for Saturday. Anyway, I had my dress on and
moved, getting stabbed by one of the seamstress’ pins. My Mom snapped at
the seamstress telling her to be careful and not ruin my dress. I tried to
explain to her that I had moved and that it wasn’t her fault. But she
wouldn’t listen. She started going on how the dress should have been made
down home where the seamstresses were better qualified to do the work on
wedding dresses. I told her to stop, but she didn’t.”
“Caren,
I don’t think she meant what she said,” Frank said. “I think she may
just be caught up in the wedding hoopla.”
“Frank,
my Mom went on from there criticizing all of the plans we’ve made for the
wedding. She doesn’t like a single thing we’ve decided on.”
“You
know, there is one easy solution to deal with that,” Frank said.
“And
what’s that?”
Frank
looked Caren in the eye. “You could tell her if she doesn’t like it,
she doesn’t have to come.”
Caren
stared at him, open-mouthed. He knew that was the reaction he was going to
get.
“Frank,
I can’t tell her that.”
“Sure,
you can. This isn’t her wedding. While I know she wants you to have the
best wedding possible, it’s our wedding and it’s being done our way. We
have taken suggestions from both of our parents and incorporated them into
the ceremony and reception to suit us. Maybe you just need to remind
her.”
“Or
I could just sit down and talk to her about how she’s making me feel.”
“That
could work too.”
Caren
smiled at Frank. “Thank you, Frank.”
“For
what?”
“For
making me feel better after this crazy day. I really appreciate it.”
Frank
brushed the hair back from her face. “I’m glad to help.”
Caren
leaned toward him and their lips met.
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.