Mystery of the Sassafras Chair Read Online Free PDF Page B

sat down and told her about Wiley and the chair. “You don’t have to believe me,” he finished, “but that’s just how it was.”
    Almost in slow motion Odessa took her seat across the table from him. As he saw the look in her eyes, Timor’s spirits fell.
    â€œTimmy,” she said finally, “I know you’re like Nani; it’s something you can’t help. When we were in the East, I never doubted her when she told of happenings like that. But I was much younger then, and things were different out there. Timmy, we’re in America now.”
    He clenched his hands. “What difference does that make?”
    â€œPlease don’t act hurt. Being in America makes a lot of difference. Things are more, well, real here. It’s mainly a matter of beliefs.” She paused, and added quickly, “Oh, I don’t doubt that you thought you saw Wiley in the chair. But if the chair has anything special about it, why didn’t I see Wiley? If, as you say, he was sitting right there in front of me when I came in …”
    He clenched his hands again, trying desperately to think of some way to explain. “Maybe,” he said, “it’s a little like being able to find water with a forked stick. What’s the word for it?”
    â€œDowsing,” she told him.
    â€œWell, you know some people can do it, and some can’t. Remember last summer when Wiley cut a forked witch hazel stick and showed us how to dowse? He said we could even find gems that way if we had the power. And I—I found some.”
    â€œI remember. It didn’t work for me, although it seemed to for you. You did find a few sapphires in the creek that way. But as Daddy said, it was probably just an accident. After all, the creek is full of little sapphires, and you can always find a few if you search hard enough.”
    He looked at her miserably. “Dessa, don’t you want to help me?”
    â€œOf course I want to help!” she assured him, smiling suddenly. “I’m on your side, although I may not look at things the way you do. If you feel so strongly about Wiley, you certainly ought to do something about it. You really want to talk to Mr. Battle?”
    â€œYes. Just as soon as possible.”
    â€œAll right. Finish your breakfast, and I’ll drive you to the Forks.”
    They spoke little on the ride down the valley. At the Forks, Odessa parked the station wagon near Grosser’s store, and they sat a minute looking curiously at the cluster of buildings in front of them. Timor felt his first misgivings. It had been a month since the robbery. What if the thief had been some stranger passing through? How could anyone possibly hope to locate him now? But no, reason told him; it couldn’t possibly have been done by a stranger …
    â€œIt had to be a local person,” he said, thinking aloud. “Someone who knew what was in the box, and where to find it.”
    â€œI hope you’re right,” Odessa told him, “but be careful what you say to Mr. Battle. About Wiley and the chair, I mean. You don’t want him to think you’re a little queer.”
    â€œI’ll watch it. Aren’t you coming in with me?”
    â€œYou’ll do better without me. Anyway, I need a new broom for the cabin. While I’m shopping, maybe I can get better acquainted with Mrs. Grosser and learn a few things.”
    Timor, visualizing the burly and tight-lipped Mrs. Grosser, could not help smiling. Ask any of the Grossers a question, old Fritz, young Sammy, or his mother, and all you ever got was a shrug or a grunt, especially if you were one of the summer people.
    â€œWell, at least I’ll try,” said Odessa.
    They got out. Timor watched her enter the store. Then he drew a deep breath and headed nervously for the new log structure beyond the diner.
    No one was in the front of the little shop when he entered, but he could hear a discouraged