Chapter 1
Going, Going, Gone!
“N ext to be auctioned is this toy boxcar,” a man yelled to the crowd in the courtyard. “A fine thing for a fine boy or girl. Do I hear a dollar?”
Benny Alden wriggled in his seat. He was so excited he could hardly sit still. He reached into the pocket of his jeans. The seven dollars from the paper route the six-year-old shared with his brother and two sisters was still there, safe and sound.
Benny tugged at his sister’s sleeve. “Should I put my hand up now, Jessie?”
“Not yet,” twelve-year-old Jessie Alden whispered back, calm as could be. “We don’t want to raise the price too soon.”
Benny sputtered like an old teakettle. “But . . . Jessie! It looks almost like the boxcar we used to live in.”
Jessie pushed back the hair from Benny’s forehead. “Don’t worry, Benny. Let’s just wait a little bit longer.”
A couple of voices in the audience called out bids.
“I hear a dollar. Now I hear two dollars,” the auction man shouted. “Do I hear three?”
“Three!” Benny yelled before Jessie could stop him.
“I hear three from the boy in the second row,” the man said. “Do I hear four dollars?” the man asked.
Everyone in the courtyard was silent. The four Alden children tried hard not to show how much they wanted the old tin boxcar.
“Going once, going twice, going to the boy in the second row!” The man brought down the auction hammer with a bang.
“Yippee!” Benny cried. “We got the boxcar!”
“That ends the first half of our auction,” the auctioneer announced. “We’ll return in fifteen minutes to the main portion of the sale. That’s when the Old Treasures Bookshop goes on the auction block. Meanwhile, enjoy the break, folks. You’ll find some of our famous New Orleans specialties at the food table in back.”
The Aldens, along with their grandfather and his old friend Olivia Chase, got up to stretch their legs. They walked to the back of a courtyard just behind a dusty old bookshop.
Miss Chase smiled at the Aldens a bit nervously. “Thank you for bringing your family to the auction, James. Buying the bookshop is such a big decision. Perhaps you, Henry, Jessie, Violet — and of course Benny here — can bring me good luck.”
“Just don’t yell out anything too fast,” Benny advised the older woman. “Jessie said that just makes the price go up.”
Jessie tossed back her long brown ponytail and looked up at Miss Chase. “Grandfather taught us to be patient at an auction and not jump in too soon.”
“Like I just did!” Benny said with a big laugh. “But I had to have this little boxcar for my train collection. It looks almost like the one we lived in before Grandfather found us.”
“Except it doesn’t have shelves inside or straw beds or a nice tree stump in front of it,” Violet said. “Or a cracked pink cup, either.” Like her brothers and sister, ten-year-old Violet just loved talking about the old boxcar days when they’d lived in the woods all on their own after their parents died.
“I certainly do love hearing about your boxcar adventures,” Miss Chase said. “The story of how your grandfather found you is better than any mystery I could ever write.”
“Almost as good as The Streetcar Mystery ,” fourteen-year-old Henry said. “That’s my favorite Olivia Chase mystery.”
“Every one of your mysteries is a good read, Olivia,” Mr. Alden told his old friend. “I always feel as if I’m right here in New Orleans every time I read one.”
“Me, too,” Jessie agreed. “Except for Grandfather, this is our first time in New Orleans. But we already feel right at home from reading your books.”
Miss Chase blushed at all the attention. “Why, thank you, Jessie. I know my new bookshop will be a big success if there are enough mystery lovers like you Aldens.” Suddenly Olivia Chase got a faraway look. “I just hope the bidding doesn’t go too high, that’s all.”
“It’s a shame the
Going, Going, Gone!
“N ext to be auctioned is this toy boxcar,” a man yelled to the crowd in the courtyard. “A fine thing for a fine boy or girl. Do I hear a dollar?”
Benny Alden wriggled in his seat. He was so excited he could hardly sit still. He reached into the pocket of his jeans. The seven dollars from the paper route the six-year-old shared with his brother and two sisters was still there, safe and sound.
Benny tugged at his sister’s sleeve. “Should I put my hand up now, Jessie?”
“Not yet,” twelve-year-old Jessie Alden whispered back, calm as could be. “We don’t want to raise the price too soon.”
Benny sputtered like an old teakettle. “But . . . Jessie! It looks almost like the boxcar we used to live in.”
Jessie pushed back the hair from Benny’s forehead. “Don’t worry, Benny. Let’s just wait a little bit longer.”
A couple of voices in the audience called out bids.
“I hear a dollar. Now I hear two dollars,” the auction man shouted. “Do I hear three?”
“Three!” Benny yelled before Jessie could stop him.
“I hear three from the boy in the second row,” the man said. “Do I hear four dollars?” the man asked.
Everyone in the courtyard was silent. The four Alden children tried hard not to show how much they wanted the old tin boxcar.
“Going once, going twice, going to the boy in the second row!” The man brought down the auction hammer with a bang.
“Yippee!” Benny cried. “We got the boxcar!”
“That ends the first half of our auction,” the auctioneer announced. “We’ll return in fifteen minutes to the main portion of the sale. That’s when the Old Treasures Bookshop goes on the auction block. Meanwhile, enjoy the break, folks. You’ll find some of our famous New Orleans specialties at the food table in back.”
The Aldens, along with their grandfather and his old friend Olivia Chase, got up to stretch their legs. They walked to the back of a courtyard just behind a dusty old bookshop.
Miss Chase smiled at the Aldens a bit nervously. “Thank you for bringing your family to the auction, James. Buying the bookshop is such a big decision. Perhaps you, Henry, Jessie, Violet — and of course Benny here — can bring me good luck.”
“Just don’t yell out anything too fast,” Benny advised the older woman. “Jessie said that just makes the price go up.”
Jessie tossed back her long brown ponytail and looked up at Miss Chase. “Grandfather taught us to be patient at an auction and not jump in too soon.”
“Like I just did!” Benny said with a big laugh. “But I had to have this little boxcar for my train collection. It looks almost like the one we lived in before Grandfather found us.”
“Except it doesn’t have shelves inside or straw beds or a nice tree stump in front of it,” Violet said. “Or a cracked pink cup, either.” Like her brothers and sister, ten-year-old Violet just loved talking about the old boxcar days when they’d lived in the woods all on their own after their parents died.
“I certainly do love hearing about your boxcar adventures,” Miss Chase said. “The story of how your grandfather found you is better than any mystery I could ever write.”
“Almost as good as The Streetcar Mystery ,” fourteen-year-old Henry said. “That’s my favorite Olivia Chase mystery.”
“Every one of your mysteries is a good read, Olivia,” Mr. Alden told his old friend. “I always feel as if I’m right here in New Orleans every time I read one.”
“Me, too,” Jessie agreed. “Except for Grandfather, this is our first time in New Orleans. But we already feel right at home from reading your books.”
Miss Chase blushed at all the attention. “Why, thank you, Jessie. I know my new bookshop will be a big success if there are enough mystery lovers like you Aldens.” Suddenly Olivia Chase got a faraway look. “I just hope the bidding doesn’t go too high, that’s all.”
“It’s a shame the
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