For Jeff and Janet Clements
—A. C.
CHAPTER 1
Sneak Attack
“I want an explanation now!”
Benjamin Pratt stood in front of the principal’s desk with Jill Acton and Robert Gerritt. Mr. Telmer had spotted them talking together in the hall before homeroom, and ordered them into his office.
And now they stared at the computer screen he had turned their way.
Mr. Telmer clicked the mouse, and they watched the video again: Three kids hurried along a dark hallway, their faces fuzzy in the red glow of an exit sign. The kids in the video looked a lot like them.
The principal had gotten an anonymous e-mail—a YouTube link to ten seconds of video with a dangerous title: “Pratt, Acton, and Gerritt Crash the School.” The location was unmistakable: the first floor hallway near the office of the Captain Duncan Oakes School. And the time stamp on the video? May 30, 3:17 a.m., which was last Friday night—actually Saturday morning.
Ben forced his eyes to stay on the screen, afraid he would suddenly look up at the principal and shout, Okay, we’re guilty! Call the police! Bring the handcuffs!
One thought looped through his mind.
We’re dead! We are so dead! We’re dead!
“Well?” growled Mr. Telmer. “What’s going on here?”
From deep inside his private tunnel of fear, Ben thought he heard laughter.
Am I crazy?
He wasn’t. Robert Gerritt was laughing.
Then Robert’s voice: “Sorry, Mr. Telmer. I’m not being disrespectful, honest—I couldn’t help it!”
Ben snapped fully alert as Robert kept talking.
“Because this looks like a huge prank, sir. Somebody used a phone camera to shoot three kids in the empty hallway . . . and changed the exposure so it would look like the middle of the night, and then added a fake time stamp, slapped our names on it, uploaded it to YouTube, and sent the link to your e-mail—which is right there on the school’s website. That’s what it looks like.”
Mr. Telmer started to speak, but Robert didn’t let him.
“And now, we’re all here feeling sort of stupid. And, really, I’m sorry I laughed. I mean, I can’t say where Jill was on Saturday at three thirty in the morning, but Ben and I were having a sleepover at my house—you can ask my mom . . . . I mean, my grandma . . . because . . .” Robert stopped dramatically and sniffed, and then sniffed again each time he paused. “Because . . . I live with Gram now . . . you know . . . because my mom and dad . . . aren’t . . . you know, they’re not . . . they’re not here anymore!”
As Ben watched with a mixture of horror and awe, Robert sobbed, buried his face in his hands, and looked like he was having a mental breakdown right there in front of the principal’s desk, moaning and gurgling as he slumped backward onto a wooden chair.
Ben and Jill just stared, and Mr. Telmer didn’t know what to do.
But he was the principal, so he had to do something. He hurried around the end of his desk and awkwardly patted Robert’s shoulder.
“There, there . . . it’s okay. I’m sure that this is just . . . a very bad joke. And I’m sorry it brought all . . . all that back for you. There, it’s okay, Robert. Come, you should go now, all of you, go on to your homerooms . . . all right?”
As Robert got his sobbing under control, the principal helped him to his feet and handed him a couple of tissues from the box on his desk. Robert blew his nose while Mr. Telmer steered him out his door, through the main office, and into the hallway. Ben and Jill were close behind.
“Now, I want you kids to have a good day, all right? And let’s just forget this happened. That’s good . . . so . . . so have a great day!”
And with that, the principal hurried back into his office and shut the door.
Before they had walked ten feet, Robert had made a full recovery.
“Glad that’s over,” he muttered, then gave his nose one more blast.
Ben was still in shock. Because, what Robert had said about his mom and dad? That was true. They had died in a car crash when he was in kindergarten. But the way he had just used that terrible fact?
“Wow, Gerritt! You really . . . I mean . . . I mean, wow! That was just . . . wow!”
Jill was too shaken to be gushy. “Yeah, nice going, but that was a very close call!”
It was Monday morning. The front hallway was crowded with kids, but Ben felt like the three of them were the only ones there. And for sure, they were the only kids who knew that a war was raging inside this old building.
He scowled as they walked toward the south stairwell. It had been a bad weekend for the Keepers of the School. The kids on the YouTube video? That actually was Jill and Robert and him—inside the school at three thirty on Saturday morning. Illegally. They had just confirmed an important discovery under the stairs in the northwest corner—a secret Underground Railroad station, a discovery that should have permanently preserved the whole school and totally ended the Glennley Group’s plans to build their new amusement park. But that creep Lyman had surprised them again, this time with a low-tech security device—a snarling Rottweiler named Moose. They had panicked, and they forgot to lock the secret door to the compartment, which is why the dog had been able to scratch his way in. So Lyman had found the hideout, realized what it was, and then his bosses at Glennley headquarters took over. In a huge rush, they had contacted all sorts of heritage and preservation groups. And late Saturday afternoon, the Glennley Group had issued a press release. They announced the discovery as if it were theirs, and made a promise to the world: They were going to keep this newly found Underground Railroad station just as it was, safe in its own small corner of the original school. But most of the old building was still going to be demolished to make room for their newest cheesy theme park, Tall Ships Ahoy!
On Sunday evening the school superintendent had held a press conference on the front steps of the Oakes School, and all the TV news stations from Boston had been there. Dr. Gill had smiled and smiled, talking into a cluster of microphones.
“I know I speak for the whole town of Edgeport when I say we are thrilled about this exciting discovery! The legacy of the Captain Duncan Oakes School will live on here forever, even though most of the building behind me will be gone.”
When a reporter asked who had actually found the runaway slave hideout, the superintendent smiled again. “That person has chosen to remain anonymous so that the discovery itself can remain the center of attention.”
So, thanks to Lyman and his dog, the big amusement park plans were still on track. In less than two weeks, the old school and the town of Edgeport and its quiet harbor would be changed forever.
“That is not happening!”
“What?” asked Robert.
Ben realized he’d said that last bit out loud.
The three of them stopped near the doors to the south stairwell.
Ben talked through clenched teeth. “I said, Lyman and his sneaky lawyers and his nasty dog are not going to win!”
Robert grinned. “Of course not, Pratt. Relax! Look, I’ve gotta go check on something in the library before homeroom, but don’t worry. I’ve got some ideas about the next safeguard, and how we are gonna spend some serious cash! Later.” Gerritt took off toward the library.
Jill looked at Ben. “So, how did Lyman get that video of us?”
He shrugged. “Probably a motion-activated camera. But sending it to the principal? That’s new. He wants to get us kicked out of school—or sent to jail. And his first shot was almost a direct hit.”
The homeroom warning bell clanged three times.
Jill said, “Let’s talk before math, okay? But don’t take this stuff personally, Benjamin. That’s partly why Lyman’s so good—he’s just
doing his job. We can learn from him.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, “but can we beat him?”
“We have to,” Jill said. “That’s all—we have to.” She gave him a half smile, then hit the stairs.
Ben walked toward the art room, which meant he had to go right past the door to the janitor’s workshop. He was dreading an encounter with Lyman. The guy had stolen that whole Underground Railroad thing—a major victory. And now this new video attack, using the principal as a weapon? That was nasty . . . truly vicious. Like his Rottweiler.
Ben tapped his tongue against the back of his front teeth, a nervous habit. He really wanted to avoid Lyman. The guy was sure to give him one of those oily, sneering smiles.
The workroom was open, and just before he got there, Ben saw the end of the janitor’s long trash cart come nosing out the doorway. He wanted to duck and slip past, but he couldn’t help glancing left, straight into Lyman’s face. And when he did that, he had to stop.
Ben stood there directly in front of the trash cart, heart pounding, almost in a trance.
The man shot him a dark, angry look.
“Move it, Pratt!”
Ben jumped aside, but he kept staring at the janitor.
It wasn’t Lyman.
CHAPTER 2
The Times that Try
What?!
Ben stood there, trying to process what he was seeing.
A short, stocky man in a green janitor’s uniform pushed the trash cart down the hall toward the office.
He’s the janitor now? But where’s Lyman?
Another thought slammed into his head.
I’ve never seen that guy before, and he said my name—he knew my face!
Only one possibility: Lyman must have given that man his picture—probably Jill’s and Robert’s, too. Plus their class schedules, home addresses, cell phone numbers—probably a complete file on each of them!
Ben clenched his teeth so hard they hurt.
The clock in his head told him the final homeroom bell was about to clang, and he couldn’t be late—that would mean detention. He wheeled around and hurried toward the art room, staring down at the wooden floor, lost in thought.
So . . . where’s Lyman? Is this guy his replacement? Or maybe . . .
“Good morning, young fella.”
Ben gulped.
Lyman’s bony fingers were wrapped around the wooden handle of a dust mop. He stood beside the art room door, wearing that crooked, sneering smile. As he spoke, his smile got wider.
“Saw you met my new assistant. Wally has skills. The YouTube thing? That was all Wally. I sure hope you and your little pals didn’t get in any trouble this morning.”
Ben shivered, couldn’t help it. He had stood face-to-face with Lyman for the first time fourteen days ago, and he felt the same way now—hypnotized, like a mouse staring up at a snake, about to be swallowed alive.
The first clang of the final bell snapped him out of it, and he took two quick steps into the art room—not tardy.
And he felt safer, too. A bolt of anger flashed through his heart, and Ben saw the perfect way to direct it.
“Isn’t that nice!” he said, oozing sarcasm. “We all have a new friend to play with!” He looked up into those dark, deep-set eyes, and now Ben was smiling too. “So . . . I guess this means that good old Jerry Lyman couldn’t handle this job on his own—right?”
Lyman’s upper lip curled into a snarl, and Ben’s smile grew broader. “Well, gotta go to school now, Mr. Lyman—and I hope you and your little pal Wally have a wonderful day, okay?”
He turned and walked quickly to a table near the front of the art room. Ben was sure the man was still glaring at him, but he didn’t look back. Lyman could stand there ten years for all he cared!
Ms. Wilton began taking attendance, and Ben felt so happy, he could have floated up out of his chair. Getting the last word with Lyman? Sweet! But this feeling was more than that.
Because what he’d said to the man was true: Someone had decided that Jerroald Lyman, a highly trained, fully equipped industrial spy, was not able to deal with a few sixth graders at the Captain Oakes School. And therefore, a decision had been made over the weekend: Send reinforcements to the front lines.
And that was a compliment! And—
Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute! The school superintendent? She must know that Lyman works for Glennley—she has to!
How else could Lyman’s buddy suddenly show up on a Monday morning as a new school employee?
And . . . the principal must be totally in the dark about everything! Otherwise, Mr. Telmer wouldn’t have let them off the hook about that video . . . .
So many layers to this thing!
Ben glanced around. Lyman had left, and Ms. Wilton was busy prepping for first period.
He got out his phone and tapped a text to Jill and Robert.
Lyman has reinforcements—
Wally the junior janitor.
Beware!
Ben sent the message and then stared out the window, replaying what he’d said to Lyman. He wasn’t sorry about that, not one bit.
Jill always said they should avoid all contact with Lyman. And she said never to take any of this stuff personally.
But it was personal.
And the look on Lyman’s face when he’d said that about not being able to handle the work? Beautiful!
Maybe if he got Lyman mad enough, it might actually help. Angry people make mistakes . . . .
Still staring out the window, Ben could see the top of the copper beech tree on the south lawn of the school. It towered above the oaks and maples, swaying with the onshore breeze. That massive tree had survived every hurricane and nor’easter for more than a hundred and fifty years.
And so had the Oakes school. Except the roots of the school went even deeper. They’d been growing into the heart of this town since before the US Constitution was written. Captain Oakes had planned it so his school would overlook the ocean, and he’d left the building and the land for the children and families of Edgeport. It was something good, and it was meant to be permanent.
And it’s gonna take more than Lyman and his sidekick to knock it down!
Ben caught himself—it felt like he was bragging, and he hated that.
But then he decided he was just giving himself a pep talk. Which was fine. Right about now, he needed all the encouragement he could muster.
A quote popped into his mind, something Thomas Paine had written in 1776, part of the most famous pep talk of the American Revolution: “These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.”
Except I’m not looking for thanks . . . or love, either.
At this point, the Keepers had serious choices to make. They had to take the battle to the enemy. They had to use every advantage they could grab, and they had to make every day count—every minute. And if Lyman and Wally got nasty, they’d just have to deal with it.
Most of all, they couldn’t give up. He and Jill and Robert were being tried in ways they hadn’t imagined, being tested over and over again. And if they failed, the whole town of Edgeport would be different forever.
No . . . not just different—ruined!
The demand of this crisis was clear: It was time to stand and fight.
CHAPTER 3
The Score
On his way to first period, Ben saw Wally again.
And Wally saw Ben see him.
Then Ben saw that Wally wanted to be seen. He was directly across the hall from the music room, the new assistant thug, standing guard along the south side of the school.
Ben felt the urge to smile and wave at him, but he controlled it. He slipped into the music room and took his place in the tenor section of the chorus, a spot where he couldn’t be observed through the open doorway.
Even after almost two weeks, it
still bothered him, being watched all the time. But, then again, it was another compliment. Lyman and Wally were admitting that they needed to keep a close watch on the Keepers. After all, if it hadn’t been for Lyman’s dog, their discovery last week might have shut down the whole Glennley scheme.
So the Glennley operatives knew the kids had to be kept from doing more searching. But the good part? Lyman had no idea why they were searching in the first place.
Ben smiled to himself. Lyman knew nothing about the careful plans Captain Oakes had made almost three centuries ago—plans that were now Ben’s responsibility.
For the past eighteen days, he’d been on a treasure hunt—actually, a safeguard hunt. And the hunt had been successful, too, right under Lyman’s nose.
Because back in 1783, Captain Oakes had looked into the future. He’d felt sure that some day, someone would want this beautiful oceanfront land and would try to take it away from the children and families of Edgeport. And therefore, he had placed things around the school, hidden safeguards that he hoped would help future Keepers defend his school—his life’s most important accomplishment.
And Ben knew they had made good progress.
The bell clanged, and he opened his music book. The chorus was rehearsing songs for the final concert. It was called An American Songfest, and it was going to be a last farewell to the old school.
Mr. Maasen played a loud chord on his piano, which brought the group to order, and they started in with “Yankee Doodle.”
Ben sang, but only with his mouth. His mind was busy ticking through the safeguard clues. He knew them by heart:
After five bells sound, time to sit down.
After four times four, tread up one more.
After three hooks pass, one will be brass.
After two tides spin, a man walks in.
After one still star, horizons afar.
The “five bells” clue had helped them find an addition to Captain Oakes’s original will, a codicil. It was one sheet of parchment in the captain’s own handwriting, but whoever took that simple document to the courthouse instantly became the new owner of the school and the twenty acres around it. However, if the Keepers actually did that, then this war would become a purely legal battle, which seemed risky: The Glennley Group had a battalion of tough lawyers. Jill and Ben had decided to use the codicil only as a last resort.