Elbert M. Hoppenstedt

“ Ronnie came out of the house and crossed the barnyard, his bare feet stirring dust clouds that hung behind him and marked his path. The powder-dry dust felt as soft as talcum against the soles of his feet.
Ronnie made his way toward the orchard. Here it was cooler, for the earth was wet from days of irrigation.
Ronnie spied his father’s blue overalls and white T shirt among the peach trees to the right. “Pa?” he called.
“Yes, Ronnie?” Mr. Rorth was reeling out a section of rubber hose, a feeder line to connect to the main metal pipe that ran to the brook. ”

“ Ronnie went into the dining room to wait for the others to arrive. He stood in front of the sideboard, idly tinkling the bullet-sized glass crystals that hung in a circle of dewdrops from the rim of one of the Rorth candlesticks. A ray of light from the ceiling chandelier struck one of the crystals, and a rainbow of colors danced before the boy’s eyes.
Grandfather’s cane came thumping into the room and stopped behind the boy. “You watch your step with that candlestick!” Grandfather warned. “Doesn’t pay to monkey around with it for no good purpose. ”

“ Ronnie squatted down beside him. “The man from the Seaway, of course. I just hope Grandfather gets hopping mad again and gives it to him good. Nobody’s got a right to just come along and tell a person he’s got to sell his land. Nobody!”
Phil closed his eyes again and started the hammock swinging.
“Of course you don’t care one bit, Philip Rorth!” Ronnie continued. “I think Grandfather was right. He said you’re not a real Rorth! ’Cause a real Rorth’s got fighting blood and a love for his land, and most of all he wouldn’t let the village go without a fight.” ”

“ Ronnie smiled a little at Phil’s remark. He turned off the flashlight to save the batteries. “We’ve certainly made a mess of everything, haven’t we?” Bill’s voice reached Ronnie from out of the darkness. “Let the glassware and money slip right out of our hands. Got ourselves trapped down here. Me with a busted leg. And I guess we’re about as far from saving the village as we ever were. Well, my pa says it’s always darkest before the dawn. Maybe things will get better from here on.”
The silence closed in again, except for the steady dripping of water against the flooded floor. ”

“ Grandfather grunted, but said nothing.
After supper Ronnie and Phil helped Mrs. Butler with the dishes. “Folks down in town are mighty sad knowing the old deserted village isn’t to be spared,” she said as she wrapped up some of the table scraps to take home to her cats. “Mighty sad. It’s surprising how many folks there have a fond spot in their hearts for the place. Fact is, there’s talk going around to do something about saving it—if there’s a way to get it done.” ”

“ Ronnie asked again. “What finally happened to Great-great-grandfather Ezra?”
“Well, when my father and mother returned after the epidemic was over, they found him in the office building. He was dead from the typhoid. But everyone said it was Jacob’s ghost that did it.”
The old man grasped the head of his cane with both hands and pulled himself to his feet. He stood for a minute with the hot breeze ruffling his snow-white beard and hair while he looked down into the valley. His sharp eyes darted from one building to another and finally rested upon the old, padlocked building. ”

“ Ronnie turned to face his friend. “Bill, if I hadn’t seen Caldwell face to face, I don’t think I could believe he’s the man who’s been doing all this snooping. And you know, even while he was grabbing me back there on the path, I didn’t think it was him. He just didn’t talk like Caldwell—or act like him either.”
“Well, you never do really know a man until you’ve been around him a good long while—that’s what my pa says.” Bill pulled his raincape over his head. “We’re just wasting time sitting here and talking. Let’s get over to the padlocked building. I brought a flashlight. ”

“ Ronnie thought about what his father had just told him. “Dad, what’s a connoisseur?”
“A connoisseur? Well, he’s a person who knows a great deal about some special art subject. Caldwell got interested in glassware when he was a boy. It seems his family had a couple of pieces of Rorth glassware that had been handed down from one generation to the next. He started doing some research on them, and pretty soon he was studying up on all makes of glassware. Now he’s writing a book on early American glassware. He wants to include a few chapters about Rorth glass.” ”

“ As they drew closer, Ronnie could see that the light did come from the chimney as he had suspected. “Somebody poking a flashlight around in the chimney flues, all right!” he thought. But why? Was it just a trick to scare Bill and him away for some unknown reason, or was this intruder searching for something?
They were almost to the building when the light went out and the blackness closed in over the roof. Ronnie shivered again. The building seemed lonelier and more desolate than it had before.
Bill turned about and came close to Ronnie. “There’s somebody inside for sure!” he whispered. ”

“ Bill, he knew, wanted to hunt for clues immediately, but it was just too hot to move. It all seemed like such a tremendous, almost impossible job. Hadn’t Grandfather tried and failed?
A moment later Phil sauntered into the building and plunked himself down in the one remaining chair. “I don’t know why I killed myself coming down here,” he sighed.
“I don’t see why you did either,” Ronnie commented with a smile. “All you did was move from the hammock to that chair. You shouldn’t exert yourself so much.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself,” said Phil. ”

“ They said they’d never been anywhere that helped them so much to understand how people lived and worked back in the last century. And if the village can be saved, you know what we can do? Well, we’ve got enough of the old furnishings left from the general store, for instance, to fit it out just like it was a hundred years ago. And Gramps says that with some fixing up we can do the same thing for the gristmill, the smith shop, and even the main glassworks. Can’t we, Gramps?” Ronnie asked, smiling across at his grandfather. ”

“ Despite the heat, Ronnie began to run. He felt light all over. His feet hardly seemed to touch the ground. The dam145 could be built. Now, if only the Seaway would agree to have it done. If the meeting tonight was a success, he vowed, then there would be nothing more he could ask for.
He broke out of a thick clump of hemlock saplings and came out on the riverbank just as his brother swung himself off the fallen tree trunk on the end of their “ducking” rope. Phil arched out over the water with his legs curled up against his body and then, letting go, dropped like a bullet. ”

“ Ronnie watched it for a while. The animal didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
The afternoon wore on, but no tourists appeared. Ronnie got up and started slowly down the path. It wouldn’t hurt to take one quick trip around the locked-up building and maybe steal a peek through the crack in the shutter. Then he could climb up on the roof and sit there for a time. He could see so much more from up there, and if a car came up the dirt road, he’d know about it in time to get back to the office. ”

“ Caldwell’s—or was it the one that had disappeared from Bill’s barn?
The room grew another shade darker. A brilliant flash of lightning dispelled the darkness for a brief moment, and then the thunder broke. The house vibrated from the sound.
Mr. Caldwell moved toward the door. “I’d best be going before the storm breaks.”
“Come along,” Mr. Rorth offered, “and I’ll take you most of the way in the truck. You’ll never make it before it rains.”
The truck was hardly out of sight when the rain fell in torrents. Ronnie, at the living room window, watched the puddles grow deeper and deeper. ”

“ Ronnie studied the problem. “Yes, I think so,” he answered finally. “We’ll take it in stages. You know—climb down there to the ground first, then slide down the hole to the top of the culvert. There’s room to stand there. Then we can swing ourselves down through the opening in the brickwork.”
Phil gulped. “That sounds like an awful lot of work,” he said. “And even harder to get up again.”
“Nobody’s twisting your arm and making you go,” Bill said.
Ronnie went first, holding Bill’s flashlight. The others waited above in the darkness, peering over the edge to watch Ronnie’s progress. ”

“ Ronnie explained how they hoped to raise some of the money to build a dam across the narrow gap in the valley through which Goose Brook ran down to the river. “My dad says it could be done,” Ronnie continued. “’Course, we won’t get enough money ourselves to do it. But we’re hoping maybe other people will get worked up enough to want to help out.”
“People are beginning to wake up already,” Mr. Brown said. “I happen to know that your father saw Steve Mercer the other day and put a bug in his ear about the village. ”

“ Ronnie heard his father’s voice next. “Father,” said Mr. Rorth, “it doesn’t do a bit of good getting yourself all upset like this. The Seaway Authority has told us that the water level of the lake formed behind the dam will cover the section of land where the deserted village is, and for this reason it will have to be purchased. There isn’t a thing we can do about it. Our lawyer has told us that himself.”
“More hogwash! Sometimes I think that lawyer is working for both sides and against the middle.” ”

“ When people begin to talk, they make things bigger and meaner. Old Ezra had killed Jacob to cover up his own thefts and he’d hidden the body somewhere. Search parties went over every square foot of the village, but they didn’t turn up a clue. Well, no matter, people said, Jacob Williams’ curse was on the Rorth family until Jacob’s death was avenged.”
Grandfather puffed hurriedly at his pipe to start up the dying coals. “But what happened to Great-great-grandfather Ezra?” Ronnie asked. ”

“ Ronnie stopped work long enough to turn toward his father. “And is that why Caldwell came to see you?” he asked.
“Yes, in a way.” Mr. Rorth leaned lightly on the handle of his fork. “He wants to spend some time here poking around in the buildings and talking with your grandfather about the history of the Glassworks. He thought maybe he could bed down in one of the buildings in the village.”
“He does!” Ronnie exclaimed. “Golly, maybe he’ll help us set up our business, specially if he knows so much about glassware. Think he might, Dad?” ”

“ Phil exclaimed. “Golly, a convict right here in the village, and we never even guessed!”
“But why did he hide out here?” asked Ronnie.
“I figure he had two things in mind,” said Caldwell. “First, since the deserted village has been opened to tourists, nobody would think of looking here for an escaped convict. If he saw anybody coming, there would be plenty of buildings to hide in. Second, Larry was obsessed all his life by that old story about the stolen Rorth glassware and the money and the murder. ”

“ Ronnie explained what they had in mind. Phil seemed interested. “I’ll sleep on it,” he told Ronnie and went on with his work.
Ronnie moved down the hall and entered his own room. He didn’t turn on the light, but instead went to the window and, brushing back the curtains, stared out into the blackness.
The moon was at the quarter, but there was enough light from it to light up patches of the St. Lawrence River so that it looked like stretches of a concrete highway cutting through the darkness. Below and a little to the left, the night was blackest, and here Ronnie located the deserted village. ”

“ Grandfather did lend his hand that night—and his voice, too! But it was Ronnie’s plea, perhaps, which did the most toward convincing the Seaway official that the village had to be saved. “Mister,” Ronnie told him, sitting on one side of the long conference table, “every building down in the village has got a story to tell about its past. Gramps told me all of them when I was a boy, and I’ve never forgotten a one. Lots of these stories I’ve told to the tourists who have come to see the village. ”

“ Ronnie wasn’t sure if Phil was being serious, or if this was another of his attempts at humor. Whichever it was, Ronnie couldn’t go along with his brother’s suggestion. With the building on fire, the culvert was sure to fill with smoke and fumes, perhaps to the point where it might suffocate them. “No, Phil,” he told his brother, “that’s too risky.”
“Then how about just burning through the trap door?” Phil added. “How about that?”
Ronnie found himself shaking his head. “No, Phil. It would never stop with the trap door. Besides, I don’t think we’ve got enough kindling to get it started. ”

“ Bill nodded. “We’ll search the building from top to bottom, and maybe we’ll have more luck than your grandfather did. Maybe we’ll clean up this mess around your family name.”
“I know my great-great-grandfather didn’t harm Jacob Williams or steal anything, either. I just know it.”
“Sure, Ronnie, sure, but we’ve got to prove it. And that isn’t going to be easy, not after all these years have passed. But we’ll do it. Every minute we’ve got when we aren’t showing people around, we’ll use to hunt for clues. ”

“ Bill had reached the bottom of his crate, and now he was carefully packing the contents back as he had found them. He turned to Ronnie. “It’s not going to be easy getting these crates out of here,” he said. “We don’t want to break any.”
Ronnie nodded. “I know. Yet we can’t leave them here for Caldwell to claim. One of us will have to go for a rope.”
“There’s one in the Glassworks building that we were using to haul junk outside. Maybe we can persuade Phil to go and get it.” ”

“ Ronnie didn’t want to count too heavily on that! Phil had never been one for finding a way out of a scrape. Phil had always relied upon his brother for an answer—or he had just simply evaded the issue completely if that were possible.
Bill raised his head a few inches and placed his arm underneath to support himself. “Don’t try my idea,” he said, “it just won’t work. Nobody but the thin man from the circus could get through that opening.” ”