The Great Treasure Hunt Page 3

  “I say, old chaps, where are you bumbling off to?” grumbled the Captain.

  “Be back soon!”

  “Where ARE we going?” asked Lily.

  “You’ll see,” said Button. “I have an idea about how to cheer up the Captain . . . and we have to do it before Mr. Tooey puts the bottle back on the shelf!”

  They scampered off.

  “Come on, Lil. Old Mr. Tooey will be back at exactly one o’clock. You know how strict he is about his lunch hour.”

  Lily was hot on Button’s heels as he sprinted back toward the box of old toys. They kept a keen eye out for the mice as they went.

  In no time they were back in the old dolls’ house, climbing the slope toward the staircase.

  “Right,” said Button. “What do you think?” He was standing next to the grandfather clock.

  “About what?” asked Lily.

  “About this,” Button said, patting the clock.

  “What about it?”

  “It’s a working clock, Lily. It’s perfect. Ours is broken, and this doesn’t belong here—it’s too precious. It belongs on board our ship.”

  “But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “But . . . how would we even get it back? It’s huge.”

  “Don’t worry about that just yet. Help me get it down the stairs.”

  “But . . .”

  “Here, get this corner,” said Button. “I’ll get the other side.”

  And before Lily could even begin to protest that it was impossible, she was tugging and lifting the old wooden clock.

  They shoved and pushed and heaved and towed. They bashed the corners. They somehow managed to hit the ceiling light. They banged into the other furniture and even broke a banister, but slowly and surely they eased the clock downward. They slipped and slid as they went. They trapped their fingers and hit their heads. They dropped it once or twice and it clattered and banged inside. But they kept going, until at last it was at the doorway to the dolls’ house.

  “Now what?” said Lily.

  Button whistled.

  “What was that for?”

  And from a tiny hole far away in the baseboard, they came.

  “Oh, ha ha. Your beetle friends. We know you’ve got them trained as a circus act, Button. But what use are they really?”

  “You’ll see.” Button winked at Lily, and waited. A moment later a small black beetle appeared around the corner, made a clicking sound, and more followed. Fifteen, maybe. Button stopped and counted. Twenty. They lined up side by side, head to tail, until they were organized into a long block of armored arms and legs.

  Each time they were all in place one would start to stray and Button would grab hold of it and drag it back by its shell. And then one would be facing the wrong way or get distracted and it was a little bit like herding cats but, eventually, they seemed to understand.

  “Good,” Button said.

  Lily chuckled as she watched him. “Do you REALLY think they understand you, Button?”

  “OK,” he said, ignoring her. “Let’s lower her down. Steady away.” And they gently eased the clock onto the backs of the small beetle army until it had 120 legs beneath it.

  “Quick march!” said Button, and the clock walked itself slowly across the shop floor.

  Click click click. Button knew they might have to fend off the mice. There was nothing they liked more than a quick beetle snack. But he hoped that since the mice were munching marshmallow and cheese, his little friends would be in the clear.

  Lily looked anxiously down the hallway corridor. She knew Mr. Tooey must be close to finishing his lunch.

  They click-click-clicked across the tiles. Button and Lily darted between the odds and ends, keeping a close lookout for anything that might stop the beetles in their tracks. Sometimes they needed steering. Button held the back end of the clock and pushed it in the right direction, and once or twice they bumped into a table leg or a box and the bug squadron needed putting back together again.

  Lily heard movement from the kitchen. The clatter of things being put away. Cupboards closing and plates clattering.

  “He’s coming!”

  “Nearly there,” smiled Button, but Lily could see the nervousness on his face.

  They stopped short next to the old bottle. A moustached face poked out of the bottle neck.

  “I say, old chap, what the devil have you got there?” exclaimed the Captain.

  “Throw me a line!” requested Button.

  And shortly an old length of shoelace came rolling down toward them, while Old Uncle Noggin secured it to the mast.

  The beetles scattered and Button gave a salute to thank them, as Lily tied the rope tightly around the clock.

  Up it went. It swung and tilted this way and that, occasionally looking like it might crash to the ground. But in the end it somehow wound its way up to the neck and was hauled on board by the curious Captain and Uncle Noggin.

  Lily and Button needed the shoelace back to climb up to the bottle. And just as they waited for their shipmates to untie the clock and save them from being stranded, Mr. Tooey came walking down the corridor.

  “Hurry up, Uncle Noggin,” shouted Button. “Old Tooey’s here!”

  At last the shoelace came rolling back down at them.

  “You first,” said Button, trying not to panic. Lily pulled her way up the rope like a monkey. Button latched on behind her and raced up to the neck of the bottle.

  They pulled the rope in behind them. They were home.

  “Fingers crossed we’re going back on the shelf!” said Lily.

  “I do hope so,” said Button, sitting down at the little round porthole.

  “All crew ready for takeoff?” asked the Captain.

  “Fasten seat belts,” said Lily.

  “Shortly ascending to a height of approximately five feet,” said Uncle Noggin.

  Button looked out. He could see the pattern of Mr. Tooey’s paisley pajamas against the window. He felt the ship wobble and lift. He closed his eyes.

  It was a short journey.

  “All crew ready for landing,” announced the Captain.

  “I feel seasick,” groaned Button.

  “Nearly there,” said Lily. She reached across and touched his arm, and he smiled back at her.

  “Weird day, Lil.”

  “Yeah, I know. Different, eh?”

  Then they felt a jolt, and they knew they were back where they belonged.

  “There you go,” said Button, wiping his brow with a corner of his shirt and standing back to admire the grandfather clock. Lily took off her hat and did the same.

  “What a beauty. Who needs gold?” said Old Uncle Noggin.

  “It’s still not right,” said Captain Crabsticks. “We haven’t got any pirate gold and a pirate ship isn’t a pirate ship without pirate gold.”

  And he turned his back on the old clock.

  “Oh come on, Cap’n,” said Button. “She’s a beauty. Look at that face. Look at that hand carving. ’Tis a work of art, sir.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I’ll bet my moustache the old blighter doesn’t even work.”

  “Oh well, so much for him being grateful,” said Lily, folding her arms and sending an angry glare toward the Captain.

  “Of course she’ll work. Just needs cranking up,” said Button. “I bet she’ll keep good time when she’s up and running.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that.” And the Captain wandered off to ponder by himself on the tidy shelf.

  Button took the crank from the back of the clock and placed it on the shaft. It fit neatly. He turned it slowly, working out the right direction, then kneeled down, taking a stronger hold. For a moment it moved, giving a satisfying click, click, click, but then it stuck, as if the workings were jammed. Almost as if they had decided enough was enough and they weren’t going to tell the time anymore.

  Button was worried about forcing it. He knew the workings of a clock were delicate—he’d seen the wristwatch in a t
housand pieces, and he’d spent time in an old cuckoo clock before someone had bought it from the junk shop.

  “I’d better open the case and look inside,” sighed Button.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” asked Lily.

  “No, not really,” he replied. “Does anyone else?”

  “Don’t ask me!” said Old Uncle Noggin. “Steer clear of timepieces, I do. Once, a long time ago, I got stuck inside a wall clock. Couldn’t escape. Only managed to get out when I’d lost weight and managed to squeeze out through a hole in the back. Took me nearly a week, it did. Never been so hungry in all my life.”

  “I need my tools,” said Button, who wasn’t really listening to Uncle Noggin’s tale. He headed off and came back quickly with a bent nail and half a broken paper clip.

  “What’s your plan?” asked Lily.

  “I think I need to get inside the back of the clock,” said Button. “The paper clip is to pick the lock with.”

  “And your crowbar?”

  He smiled. “In case the clip doesn’t work.”

  Lily could see the determination on Button’s face. She knew she had to let him get on with it.

  For what seemed like ages, Button turned the paper clip inside the lock. This way and that, up and down, in and out.

  The Captain had wandered back. “I say, old chap, still tinkering with that old contraption? I’ll be hungry soon. Time to divert to the kitchen, I think.”

  Lily knew that if there was one thing about Button it was that he never gave in.

  Suddenly the door sprang open. It had worked! But what Button found inside was not at all what he expected.

  A smile broke across his face.

  “What is it?” asked Lily. “Why are you grinning like that?”

  “You’ll never guess what’s jamming up the workings,” laughed Button.

  “Ahh, don’t tell me,” said Old Uncle Noggin. “Is it pie? I love a good pie.”

  “You see, I knew there’d be something wrong,” muttered the Captain, wandering back in. “I knew it wouldn’t work.”

  “Huh, maybe we broke the workings when we moved it,” said Lily. “Is it broken cogs and wheels?”

  “No it’s not. Not at all,” said Button. “It’s this . . .”

  And with both hands he pulled out a long shining gold chain that had been tucked into the case.

  “At last,” Button said, “we have our pirate gold! Still disappointed with your grandfather clock, Captain?”

  “My my my, what a marvelous find, Button, you old treasure,” exclaimed the Captain. “I knew that clock was good luck as soon as I saw it. Didn’t I say so? Didn’t I say so?”

  Lily rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

  “Hee hee, you’ve struck gold, lad,” said Old Uncle Noggin. “You see, Cap’n! It’s just like my story about the astronomer. You were so busy looking elsewhere, you didn’t realize what was there in front of you.”

  “Ha, I suppose so,” chuckled Captain Crabsticks.

  Button held the long chain in his hands. Big chunky links of glimmering gold.

  “No wonder that clock was so difficult to maneuver!” complained Lily. “That’s why my back feels stiff and my hands still hurt.”

  “It was worth the pain,” said Button, forgetting his bruises.

  They stood and stared at the gold. The shining yellow caught the light, gleaming back at them and coloring their faces.

  In the middle of the chain was a locket held together with a clasp. It was oval-shaped, brimming with swirls and wisps of leaf pattern. Button pulled on the clasp with both hands. Inside was a tiny diamond! It caught the light and shimmered back at him.

  Button was so astonished he dropped to his knees with the twinkling treasure still in his hands. “Look at that!”

  “Treasures beyond what we could ever have expected,” said the Captain, his eyes and mouth wide open.

  “And maybe now we can get your clock working,” said Lily.

  Button rested the chain on the floor and went back to work. He closed the casing on the clock and turned the crank until the shaft clicked satisfyingly for several rotations . . . then suddenly the clock came to life.

  Ticktock—ticktock—ticktock.

  They could hear cars out on the road heading home and Button knew it was coming up to five o’clock. He turned the hands into position, took a step back, and smiled a long smile. It had been worth it.

  “That’s the clock working,” he said. “Time to put the rest of our home back together.”

  It was always good to get to the evening and reflect on the adventures of the day. And what a day it had been. Captain Crabsticks was asleep and the rest of them were sitting around the lighted candle, ready for one of Old Uncle Noggin’s stories.

  The ship was back in order, and looking spick-and-span.

  “What was your best bit of today?” Lily asked Button.

  “I’m not sure,” said Button. “Maybe it was the earwig battle. Or maybe it was finding gold in the clock. I can’t decide.”

  “Definitely the diamond for me!” said Lily. “I wasn’t too keen on the earwigs. They tore my stripy pirate leggings.”

  “Huh, well, there’s no competition if you ask me,” mumbled Old Uncle Noggin. They could barely make out the words, his mouth was so full.

  “What on earth is he eating?” asked Lily.

  “Oh, Mr. Tooey left a bit of pasty on the shelf,” explained Button. “Cheese and onion too! We should have enough for the next couple of days as long as we can keep it hidden. And as long as he doesn’t scoff the lot of it.”

  “BRILLIANT,” said Lily. “My favorite. Cheese and pastry is the best thing on earth.”

  “Mr. Tooey’s a strange man. How could ANYONE forget they had a cheese-and-onion pasty? You can keep your treasure,” said Old Uncle Noggin. “This is what I call pirate gold.”

  “I thought he’d already eaten,” said Lily.

  “That was his evening meal,” said Button.

  “So what’s this?” Lily asked.

  “Supper!”

  Lily and Button chuckled together as they carried on with their task. They were unpicking all the knots and tangles from the gold chain and laying it out along the shelf.

  “Don’t you get yourselves too concerned with gold and riches,” said Old Uncle Noggin, settling back on a piece of sponge.

  “What do you mean?” asked Button.

  “It be dangerous, Button. Greed for gold leads to trouble. You’re far better off concentrating on the food cupboard than the treasure chest.”

  “How can it be dangerous?” said Lily, staring at the gold as it shimmered magically in the candlelight.

  “Let me tell you a story,” said Uncle Noggin. “A story that’ll explain it better than I can.”

  He lay back on his dish sponge, licking the last bits of food from his fingers and wiping his hands on the purple underpants blanket.

  “Once there was a king called Midas. He was a good man, but foolish, and his desire for riches was the end of him.

  “He loved gold, you see. He loved it so much that when the god Dionysus offered to grant him a wish, he asked that everything he touched should turn to gold. That way, he knew he would be happy.

  “But this was far from the truth.”

  “Why?” asked Button. “If everything you touched turned to gold, you would be rich for the rest of your life.”

  “You are right,” said Old Uncle Noggin with a smile. “At first he was delighted and went around practicing his new skill. He touched the walls. They turned to gold. He touched the trees outside. They turned to gold.

  “After a while he became thirsty. But as soon as the wine touched his lips, it turned to gold. When he put food to his mouth, the same thing happened. And so the very thing he had desired became the end of him. King Midas was no more.

  “So be careful, my little gold-diggers. Greed is your enemy.” And Old Uncle Noggin lay back in his sponge and closed his eyes.

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sp; “He wasn’t saying that when he was stuffing his face with pastry,” pointed out Lily.

  “I heard that,” muttered Old Uncle Noggin. But in an instant he was asleep, snoring so hard that his breath blew the candle flame this way and that.

  Everyone except Button and Lily was asleep. Even Jones.

  It was dark, except for the glow of the candle and the orange of the street lamp. A slight chill found them and they pulled their little blankets around themselves.

  “Do you ever get scared?” asked Lily.

  “Scared of what?”

  “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. Out here at night, all on our own. Where anything could happen.”

  “What’s brought this on?” asked Button.

  “I don’t know. I just got to thinking that . . . well, now we’ve got riches on board, maybe . . .” She stopped.

  “Maybe WHAT, Lily?”

  “Maybe someone or SOMETHING might come and steal our treasure. You know, in the night . . . Do you think we’re safe?”

  Button got to his feet. He walked to the edge of the shelf and gazed across the familiar shapes of the shop.

  “We’re safe,” he assured her. “For now, anyway.”

  They snuffed out the candlelight and wrapped up warm. Jones woke for a moment and came and tucked his head into Button’s middle.

  “Goodnight, Lily,” said Button. “See you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight,” said Lily. “Maybe we can have a quiet day tomorrow.”

  “Maybe,” said Button . . . “Maybe.”

  Keep reading for a preview of

  The Great Cheese Robbery

  by

  Chris Mould

  Button the ship’s boy had spent most of the afternoon exploring. He’d climbed in and out of piles of books and boxes of this and that to see what he might find. He’d even snatched a quick nap inside the old cuckoo clock.