The Mystery of the Tiger's Eye by Gertrude Chandler Warner

Author:Gertrude Chandler Warner [Chandler Warner, Gertrude]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4804-5105-6
Publisher: Albert Whitman & Company
Published: 2013-09-30T20:09:00+00:00

“She could even be a little jealous,” Violet went on. “You know, because Mr. Singleton spends so much time with his collections.”

“Good thinking,” Jessie remarked. “That gives Iona a motive. But it could have been Melanie, too. She has a key. She could have come back last night after we were all in bed and switched the rooms.”

“But what is her motive?” Henry argued. “She seems happy enough cataloging Mr. Singleton’s collections.”

“I think Dorsey did it,” stated Benny.

“So do I,” Violet said. “Dorsey acts like he can’t wait to get away from Cliffwalk Manor. Maybe he’s trying to make his great-uncle send him to that school sooner!”

Henry shook his head. “We’re no closer to an answer, I’m afraid. Grandfather is waving. Time to eat!”

They raced one another back to the picnic spot. Iona had made thick tuna salad sandwiches. Tortilla chips, bean soup, and rosy pears rounded out the noonday meal.

Edward entertained them by telling corny knock-knock jokes. Dorsey laughed so hard, he got the hiccups.

Violet wondered if he really wanted to go to Green Acres School. He was having such a good time — why would he want to leave?

Later that afternoon, the phone rang. This time Dorsey answered it in his great-uncle’s office.

The Aldens were in the parlor across the hall looking at old postcards that Melanie had arranged neatly in albums. Dorsey didn’t close the door; they could hear his end of the conversation.

“Yes, operator, I’ll accept the call,” they heard him say. “Mom? I’m fine… Yeah, all my stuff is at that dumb school… I don’t know who my teachers will be… I don’t really care.”

Then his voice became muffled; he had shut the door.

“He doesn’t sound very happy,” Jessie remarked.

Violet agreed. “I don’t think Dorsey wants to go to that school, even though he tells us he can’t wait.”

“But if he wants to stay, why does he act so anxious to leave?” Henry asked.

Violet didn’t answer. The postcards had suddenly reminded her of the photograph of Harry Houdini she had found in the attic. She remembered how strange the magician’s eyes were… There was something else about that picture. What was it?

That evening at dinner, the large clock on the sideboard struck three.

“It’s after six,” Grandfather said, checking his watch. “Better set that clock, Edward.”

“I did,” said Edward. “Just this morning. It’s a good clock. It shouldn’t keep losing time.”

As if the clock had a mind of its own, it chimed four. Melanie got up and stopped the pendulum. “I’ll set it after we eat,” she said.

Tonight they had steak and baked potatoes. The table was set with orange glassware Edward said was called carnival glass. Dishes of that type often had been given away as prizes in games like bingo. A set of ruby glass salt and pepper shakers inscribed 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair stood by the steak platter.

“I’ll go into town tomorrow and buy Houdini’s cage,” Edward said.

“Get a nice big one,” Dorsey instructed.

Jessie wondered why he cared. He was only going to be living at Cliffwalk Manor a few more days.

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