right over.”
The man began walking across the backyard toward the boxcar.
Jessie went after him. “Wait a minute,” she said.
The thin man walked on. Watch began to bark.
Henry looked out the door of the boxcar. “Shh, Watch,” he said. He grabbed Watch’s collar and held onto it.
But the man didn’t seem to notice Watch or Henry. Or even Violet or Benny, who had also come to the door.
When he reached the boxcar, the man stopped. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a folded newspaper. It was the same newspaper that had their picture in it.
Holding up the newspaper, the man looked from the picture on the front page to the boxcar and back again.
“What are you doing?” asked Henry.
The man shook his head. “ Not a very good picture, I’m afraid. Doesn’t do justice to the subject at all!”
“I think we look good!” said Benny indignantly.
The man kept shaking his head. He ignored Benny. “Not a good picture at all.”
Then his smile lit up his face. “But good enough for me to take notice,” he said. “And that’s the important thing.”
He put the newspaper back in his pocket, and threw his arms out wide.
“This beautiful, beautiful boxcar!” he exclaimed. “I must have it. It must be mine!”
The Aldens were so surprised that no one spoke for a moment. Then Jessie stepped around in front of the thin man. He was still staring at the boxcar.
“Excuse me,” she said. “But what are you talking about?”
The man lowered his arms. He smiled down at Jessie as if he had noticed her for the first time. “Pardon me,” he said. “My name is Casey Chessy. I am a collector of trains.”
“I have a train set,” Benny said.
The man shook his head impatiently. “No, no, no. Not toy trains. Real trains. I collect real trains. . . . May I take a closer look at your boxcar?”
“Of course,” said Henry. The Aldens watched as Mr. Chessy walked all around the boxcar. They stood aside as he climbed up on the stump they used for a front step and went inside.
Mr. Chessy rubbed his hands as he inspected the inside of the old wooden boxcar. He thumped on the walls and peered into the corners. He even examined the ceiling!
Then he sneezed. And sneezed again.
“Gesundheit!” said Benny.
Holding a handkerchief up to his nose as he climbed quickly out of the boxcar, Mr. Chessy said, “You have a very fine boxcar. It is a wooden one, and those are rather rare. The wooden ones had a nasty habit of catching on fire or getting smashed to bits. But this one is in surprisingly fine condition.”
“Thank you,” said Benny. “Do you know a lot about trains?”
“Certainly,” said Mr. Chessy. He backed away from the boxcar and stopped. “I travel by train. In fact, I have my own special railroad car, an old caboose that I have fixed up. I take vacations in it.”
“That sounds like fun,” said Violet.
“My caboose and I arrived in Greenfield late yesterday,” Mr. Chessy went on. “I went out for a stroll this morning and just happened to buy a copy of the local paper. And there it was. This boxcar!”
He rubbed his hands together again. Then he turned abruptly to Henry. “When did you say your grandfather would be home? I have something very, very important to say to him.”
“He’ll be home soon,” said Henry.
Mr. Chessy nodded. “Well, I can wait. It’s not every day I get a chance to buy an old boxcar in as good condition as this one.”
“Buy our boxcar!” Jessie cried. “Is that what you are talking about?”
“Naturally,” answered Mr. Chessy. “Why else would I be here? I told you I collected trains.”
“Not our boxcar,” said Henry firmly.
Mr. Chessy smiled. “Now, now, children, I’m sure your grandfather will be able to buy you a nice playhouse with some of the money I’m going to pay him for this boxcar.”
“Our boxcar is not just a playhouse,” said Jessie.
“And what has Grandfather got to do with it?” asked Henry. “It’s not his
The man began walking across the backyard toward the boxcar.
Jessie went after him. “Wait a minute,” she said.
The thin man walked on. Watch began to bark.
Henry looked out the door of the boxcar. “Shh, Watch,” he said. He grabbed Watch’s collar and held onto it.
But the man didn’t seem to notice Watch or Henry. Or even Violet or Benny, who had also come to the door.
When he reached the boxcar, the man stopped. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a folded newspaper. It was the same newspaper that had their picture in it.
Holding up the newspaper, the man looked from the picture on the front page to the boxcar and back again.
“What are you doing?” asked Henry.
The man shook his head. “ Not a very good picture, I’m afraid. Doesn’t do justice to the subject at all!”
“I think we look good!” said Benny indignantly.
The man kept shaking his head. He ignored Benny. “Not a good picture at all.”
Then his smile lit up his face. “But good enough for me to take notice,” he said. “And that’s the important thing.”
He put the newspaper back in his pocket, and threw his arms out wide.
“This beautiful, beautiful boxcar!” he exclaimed. “I must have it. It must be mine!”
The Aldens were so surprised that no one spoke for a moment. Then Jessie stepped around in front of the thin man. He was still staring at the boxcar.
“Excuse me,” she said. “But what are you talking about?”
The man lowered his arms. He smiled down at Jessie as if he had noticed her for the first time. “Pardon me,” he said. “My name is Casey Chessy. I am a collector of trains.”
“I have a train set,” Benny said.
The man shook his head impatiently. “No, no, no. Not toy trains. Real trains. I collect real trains. . . . May I take a closer look at your boxcar?”
“Of course,” said Henry. The Aldens watched as Mr. Chessy walked all around the boxcar. They stood aside as he climbed up on the stump they used for a front step and went inside.
Mr. Chessy rubbed his hands as he inspected the inside of the old wooden boxcar. He thumped on the walls and peered into the corners. He even examined the ceiling!
Then he sneezed. And sneezed again.
“Gesundheit!” said Benny.
Holding a handkerchief up to his nose as he climbed quickly out of the boxcar, Mr. Chessy said, “You have a very fine boxcar. It is a wooden one, and those are rather rare. The wooden ones had a nasty habit of catching on fire or getting smashed to bits. But this one is in surprisingly fine condition.”
“Thank you,” said Benny. “Do you know a lot about trains?”
“Certainly,” said Mr. Chessy. He backed away from the boxcar and stopped. “I travel by train. In fact, I have my own special railroad car, an old caboose that I have fixed up. I take vacations in it.”
“That sounds like fun,” said Violet.
“My caboose and I arrived in Greenfield late yesterday,” Mr. Chessy went on. “I went out for a stroll this morning and just happened to buy a copy of the local paper. And there it was. This boxcar!”
He rubbed his hands together again. Then he turned abruptly to Henry. “When did you say your grandfather would be home? I have something very, very important to say to him.”
“He’ll be home soon,” said Henry.
Mr. Chessy nodded. “Well, I can wait. It’s not every day I get a chance to buy an old boxcar in as good condition as this one.”
“Buy our boxcar!” Jessie cried. “Is that what you are talking about?”
“Naturally,” answered Mr. Chessy. “Why else would I be here? I told you I collected trains.”
“Not our boxcar,” said Henry firmly.
Mr. Chessy smiled. “Now, now, children, I’m sure your grandfather will be able to buy you a nice playhouse with some of the money I’m going to pay him for this boxcar.”
“Our boxcar is not just a playhouse,” said Jessie.
“And what has Grandfather got to do with it?” asked Henry. “It’s not his
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