“Come on,” Yelpy said. “Let’s go check out that room.” They went downstairs and Yelpy opened the door of the room. “It’s pretty much filled up right now but it won’t take long to fix that.” He led the way.
“Why did you think I was a ghost?” Randy asked and Yelpy explained about seeing the shadow and not knowing it was Randy walking across the balcony.
“A ghost would be cool,” Randy said.
“Are those trunks?” Harry asked, pointing towards the back corner.
“I believe you’re right,” Yelpy said.
“They look pretty old,” Randy added. “I think they’re steamer trunks, an early form of luggage used many years ago.”
Harry looked at him. “What are you studying?”
“Archaeology,” Randy said, with a grin. “I was involved with excavating that old cemetery that Mr. Stack found on his farm.”
“That’s why you looked familiar,” Harry said and Randy nodded.
Yelpy had the trunks open. Each one was filled with neatly tied stacks of journals, and boxes containing a few grainy black and white photos, and lots of detailed sketches and drawings. He sat down hard on an old wicker armchair, oblivious of the dust he disturbed.
“This is it,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Jackson’s life story is the means to fixing up the house… retiring… everything!”
Harry and Randy stared at him.
“This is what I do, boys. I’m a writer.” Yelpy’s face was lit up with excitement. “Don’t you see? I can write his story, the story he wanted to tell the world. I can use his photos, the sketches, the drawings… all of it… and it could take several volumes. This is a gold mine for me!”
“I can help with cataloguing and research,” Randy offered. “These sketches and drawings are fantastic! Whoever did them had real talent.”
“I’ll need to drum up some business first… get some operating funds… but I think…”
Harry didn’t hear the rest. He left quietly, unwilling to disturb Yelpy and Randy who were engrossed in what they had found. He chuckled to himself as he drove home. He had quite a story to tell Bertie in the morning.
