Pilgrim Village Mystery (3 page)

“Is this really how they printed all their newspapers and books and everything?” Henry asked.

“Yes,” Eric said. “Things were a lot harder then. But before you start arranging the letters in the tray, there's one important thing you have to remember. The letters have to be put in backward.”

“Backward!” Violet said.

“Let me show you,” Eric said. He took a few pieces of type out of the cases, and laid them in the tray. “Know what that says?” The children leaned over to see. Eric had placed the letters
in the tray, and they were all backward. Then he inked the tray and put it in the press. After he'd printed a page, he showed it to the children.

“That's my name!” Benny said proudly.

“Yes, it is,” Eric said. “To check that you've put the type in properly, you use a mirror. If the letters are the right way in the mirror, they'll come out right on the paper. In colonial times, boys no older than Violet might have had a job like this. Do you know who Benjamin Franklin was?”

“Is he the one who discovered electricity with a kite and a key?” Benny asked.

“He was indeed,” said Eric. “And he started off as an apprentice in his brother's print shop doing the same kinds of things you'll be doing.”

For the rest of the morning the children laid the blocks of type in the tray. There were several different cases of type, large and small, fancy and plain. It was fun deciding how the poster should look.

While the Aldens worked, more visitors came into the shop, and Eric explained what the children were doing and demonstrated how the printing press worked.

At about noon, Benny's stomach began to growl. “Can we take a break for lunch?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Eric. “You can finish the poster later.”

“We're supposed to meet Grandfather at the tavern. Would you like to come along with us?” Jessie asked Eric.

“Sounds great,” he said. Then a look passed over his face as if he'd just remembered something. “Oh, no, on second thought … I have a special project I have to work on.”

“What is it?” Benny asked.

“Well, it's … it's … uh …” Eric began. “It's really nothing.”

“Then why do you have to —” Benny said.

“Come on, Benny,” Henry interrupted his brother. “Let's give Eric some time to himself.”

The tavern was just as busy as it had been the night before. Mr. Alden was waiting at a table in the corner, and he'd already ordered the special — fried chicken and biscuits — for all of them. They told him about their morning at the print shop and he was very impressed.

The Aldens were just biting into the crispy chicken when they heard a commotion at the back of the restaurant. Next, they saw black smoke coming from the kitchen. The people sitting near the kitchen door were jumping up from their tables, coughing and waving the smoke away with their hands.

“Uh-oh!” cried Violet. “Looks like trouble in the kitchen.”

“Maybe Red could use some help,” Henry suggested. He led the others to the kitchen door and poked his head in. The kitchen was filled with smoke. Red stood next to the stove, holding two large trays of biscuits that had been burnt to a crisp. Their waitress from the night before, Lisa, and a waiter whose nametag said “Steve” were hurrying about the kitchen, opening windows to clear the smoke.

“What happened, Red?” Henry asked.

“I don't know. Someone must have turned off my timer, so I didn't take the biscuits out when I should have.” Red looked at one of the knobs on the stove. “What is this doing set at four hundred and fifty degrees? No wonder these burned.”

“Everyone's ordering the special chicken and biscuits,” said Lisa. “And now we're out of biscuits.”

Steve looked out into the dining room, where angry voices could be heard. “Several of the customers are upset about all the smoke. We're going to lose a lot of business if we don't do something fast.”

“We can help,” Violet offered.

Red looked angry. “I don't need any help!”

“Why not, Red?” Lisa asked. “Steve and I are having trouble keeping up with all the customers as it is.”

“Well, all right,” Red said reluctantly. He didn't seem happy.

“I'll go open the windows in the dining room and fan out some of the smoke,” Jessie said.

“I'll tell the customers not to worry, that their lunches will be served soon,” said Henry.

“What can I do?” asked Benny.

“You and I can help Red make more biscuits,” said Violet.

No sooner had the children spoken than they got to work. Red got out large containers of flour, shortening, baking powder and milk. Following Red's instructions, Violet carefully measured the ingredients into a bowl, and Benny stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon. Then they placed spoonfuls of batter on a baking sheet, and Red put the sheet in the oven. He checked the temperature and timer carefully.

In no time the biscuits were done, and the children helped arrange them on plates next to Red's crispy fried chicken. Lisa and Steve rushed the meals out to the customers.

Seeing that things seemed to be running smoothly, the children returned to their table, where Grandfather was waiting for them.

“Thanks a lot,” Steve called out.

Red said nothing.

After the Aldens had finished eating, the children said good-bye to Grandfather, who was planning to take a nap in his hotel room, and walked back to the print shop. As they strolled across the green, Jessie said, “Red didn't seem very grateful for our help.”

“No, he didn't,” said Henry.

“Don't you think it was strange that both the timer and the temperature on the oven were set wrong?” Violet asked.

“Red seemed to think someone had changed the settings,” said Jessie.

“Do you think someone wanted those biscuits to burn?” Benny asked, his eyes wide.

“Why would anyone want that?” said Violet. “It just made a lot of people unhappy.” Violet hated to think of anyone being unhappy.

“I don't know,” said Henry. “But something about what happened just doesn't seem right.”

CHAPTER 4

All Jumbled Up

W
hen the children returned to the print shop, they found Eric's assistant, Judith, giving demonstrations for the visitors. “Eric's in his office,” she told them.

“I'll tell him we're back,” Violet said, walking to Eric's office at the back of the shop. When she entered the small room, Eric was sitting at his desk, his head bent over a book. The book looked very old. Violet could see that the pages were yellowed and the cover was made of leather that was cracked around the edges. The book was handwritten, and there were blots of ink here and there on the page. Eric was so busy making notes on a pad of paper that he didn't realize Violet had come in.

“Eric,” she said softly. Since he still didn't look up, she said his name again, louder.

“What?” Eric looked around, startled. Seeing Violet, he quickly closed the book as if he didn't want her to see it and put it into a drawer with the pad of paper. “Oh, hello.” He stood up and ushered Violet out of his office.

“Was that your special project?” Violet didn't want to be nosy, but she was very curious about the old book.

“Uh, yes …” Eric said nervously. Then he quickly changed the subject. “How was your lunch?”

“It was good, except there was a little problem in the tavern.” Violet was about to tell Eric what had happened when a large group of tourists entered the shop. Eric went to help Judith demonstrate the printing process.

By the end of the afternoon, the shop was quiet again. Since there weren't many visitors, Judith left early. The Aldens completed the tray of type for their poster and checked it carefully in the mirror. Then they showed it to Eric.

“Great work,” he said. “We'll print it tomorrow.”

“Why not today?” Jessie asked.

“You've done enough work. Go enjoy yourselves,” Eric insisted.

“We are enjoying ourselves,” Henry replied.

Eric looked at the children as if he didn't know what to say. Then he seemed to have an idea. “You know, the general store sells delicious apple cider. Have you tried it yet?”

“No,” said Henry. “But —”

“I think Benny would really like it,” said Eric, guiding the Aldens out the door. “We'll print your poster tomorrow.”

“Okay,” said Jessie. “But what about our aprons?” She had begun untying hers.

“Bring them back tomorrow. Bye!” The children were surprised when Eric quickly shut the door and turned the sign in the window around so that it said “Closed.”

“He certainly seemed in a hurry to get rid of us,” Henry commented.

“Yes, he did,” Violet agreed. “I wonder if he's going to work on his special project. When I went into his office after lunch, he was looking at a very old book. As soon as he saw me, he put the book away so I couldn't see what it was.”

“First Red acted strange, and now Eric. What's going on?” asked Benny.

“I don't know,” said Jessie. “But that cider sounds pretty good to me. Let's go.”

The Aldens arrived at the print shop the following morning, ready to print their poster. Eric welcomed them in, but he seemed very distracted.

He showed them how to place the tray of type in the printing press. Then he took out a large roller and showed them how to coat it with sticky, black ink.

“Jessie, why don't you roll the ink over the type,” Eric suggested.

Then Eric showed Violet where to put the first sheet of paper.

“Henry, press down on this bar here,” Eric said.

“Here we go,” said Henry, following Eric's instructions. The sheet of paper was pressed firmly against the tray of type.

Carefully Jessie removed the first poster from the press.

“Let me see it!” Benny called out.

“Careful,” Jessie warned. “The ink's still wet.”

Benny turned over the sheet, careful not to put his fingers in the wet ink. The others watched his eyes grow wide. “Uh-oh! I think we goofed.”

“What do you mean, Benny?” Jessie asked.

Benny turned the poster around so they could all see it.

StdRn!nu'ldyfoo

read the first line of the poster. The rest of the poster was just as bad. All of the letters were jumbled around and mixed up — forward, backward, right side up, and upside down.

“What happened?” Violet asked. “We were so careful to put the letters in the right way.”

“And we checked it with a mirror, just like Eric showed us,” Jessie added.

They were very disappointed. After all their hard work, their poster was a mess.

Henry pulled the tray out of the press and looked at it. The blocks of type were all mixed up. “We'll have to do it over again,” Henry said. “I wonder what happened.”

Eric was just as puzzled as the children about the mix-up with their poster. “It seems as if someone took all the type out of the tray and rearranged it.”