Ghost of the Chattering Bones by Gertrude Chandler Warner Page B

clues,” he told her proudly.
    “So I’ve heard,” said Norah. “I’ll tell you all about the old mystery after dinner, Benny. But you have to promise me one thing.”
    “All right,” said Benny. “What is it?”
    “You must call me Norah.”
    “Okay, Norah,” agreed Benny. “It’s a deal!”
    Just then, a voice boomed out. “I’m Spence Morton.” The man in the business suit walked toward the group and put out his hand for Grandfather to shake. “I hope you’re not here about the bridge, too,” he said. “I made a fair offer, but I’ll go higher if necessary.”
    Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny looked at each other in bewilderment. Was this the same bridge Darlene had mentioned?
    Spence Morton went on, “I was passing through town and happened to pick up a local paper.” He pulled a newspaper out from under his arm and thumped a finger under a picture of an old stone bridge. “This is exactly what I’ve been looking for!” he told them, his eyes glittering behind gold-rimmed glasses. “My wife takes great pride in her English garden,” he added, “and this charming bridge will be perfect for the stream that runs through it.”
    “That bridge is not for sale,” Norah stated icily. “As I said before, you’re wasting your time.”
    The man did not look pleased to hear this. “Everything has a price tag,” he insisted.
    “We’ll see about that.” Norah’s mouth was set in a thin, hard line.
    “Mark my words,” said Spence Morton, “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want.” With that, he turned and walked away.
    Norah sighed. “Every time I turn around lately, there’s Spence Morton. Yesterday I found him measuring my bridge! Can you believe it?”
    Mrs. McGregor shook her head. “The nerve!”
    “He isn’t a bad person, but …” Norah stopped and let out a long sigh.
    “But,” finished Grandfather, “he just won’t take no for an answer.”
    Norah nodded slowly. “I wish now I’d never let the newspaper do that write-up on my bridge.” Then, changing the subject, she added, “Will you join us for a late dinner, James? There’s plenty to go around.”
    “Thanks, Norah,” he said, “but the sun’s already going down, and I still have some business to take care of.”
    Grandfather gave a cheery honk as he drove away. Everyone waved, then headed toward the plum-colored house.
    Mrs. McGregor looked around as they stepped inside. She smiled at Norah. “I see you’ve made some changes,” she said.
    “Yes, I finally got around to fixing the house up a bit,” said Norah. As she led the way to the stairs, she shook her head. “But what a mess! Walls torn down … floorboards pulled up. This place was a real disaster area for a while.”
    Upstairs, a room with plum-patterned wallpaper was waiting for Mrs. McGregor, another with fan-shaped windows for Violet and Jessie. A third bedroom with twin beds and fringed blue bedspreads was just right for Henry and Benny.
    “We’ve been keeping dinner warm for you,” Norah told them. “Anybody hungry?”
    Benny waved his hand in the air. “I am! I am!” he cried, to no one’s surprise. The youngest Alden was always hungry.
    Norah laughed. “Well, come on down as soon as you’ve settled in.”
    It didn’t take the Aldens long to unpack. They were waiting for Violet to finish brushing her hair when Benny cried, “Look!” He was peering through one of the fan-shaped windows.
    Jessie could tell by her little brother’s face that something had startled him. “What’s going on, Benny?” she asked, stepping up beside him.
    “Look down there!” Benny said, his eyes wide.
    “What is it?” Henry hurried over, with Violet close behind.
    “It’s a bridge!” declared Benny.
    The Aldens huddled around, straining to see out into the gathering darkness. Sure enough, the shadowy outline of a curved stone bridge could be seen in a far corner of the backyard.
    “There must be a creek behind the house,” noted