Dead Man's Gully

By Mike and Nora Langan

Chapter 1

After the thunder ended, Penny Jones closed her book, jumped off her bed and flung back the curtains. Puddles filled the street but patches of blue spattered the sky over Fayetteville. She skipped down the hall to her dad's office and asked him if they could hunt for salamanders. Mr. Jones turned from his computer and looked at his watch. "I suppose that's enough writing for today," he said. "Let's take our bikes."

Penny raced her dad around the block to her grandparents' house. Their backyard ended at the woods behind Immaculate Conception Church. After a quick hello, Penny ran into the woods and got to work. She wandered through the maze of maple and walnut trees until she found a small flat rock among some flowering trillium. She turned it over and studied the black dirt. "Just centipedes," she said.

She did this over and over as she worked her way deep into the woods, closer and closer to a giant hole that was called "Dead Man's Gully" by the neighborhood kids. The recent heavy winds and rains had knocked over a tree near the edge, loosening a large moss-covered rock, about as big as a chest of toys. It was guarded by two blackberry bushes, but looked like promising salamander territory. With her dad's help, she parted the bushes and rolled the rock over. "Whoa," she said.

The corner of a small metal box stuck out of the ground. Using her fingers, she dug it up. At first the lid of the box seemed stuck shut, but then it creaked open.  "Cool," Penny said. "A key. Look how long it is. Is it gold?"

"Probably bronze or brass," her dad said. "Gold is too soft."

"The end is so fancy."

"That's called the bow. That long part is called the shaft."

"Wait, I saw this on Scooby Doo. Is this a skeleton key?"

"Could be. A skeleton key would have a long shaft like this one, but the end would have teeth. Instead this one has a hollow hole with grooves in it. It must be a barrel key. The grooves allow the barrel to slide into the lock and push back some pins inside."

"How old do you think it is?"

"It looks very old . . . but barrel locks haven't been around that long."

"Maybe it was the very first one ever invented!"

"Maybe, or at least one of the first. It must have been really modern when it was made. Whoever used this key must have been protecting something important."

"You sure know a lot about keys."

"I do write mystery novels."

"Well, there's a mystery here, Dad." She stood up and looked around for more clues. She leaned over the washed-away edge of the gully and saw something shine below her, under a ray of sunlight. "Come on," she said, sliding down the broken rocks toward it.

"Careful," her dad said, following her.

As Penny's feet loosened more rocks, a slab of metal appeared in the wall of the gully. They moved rocks to uncover its edges. Penny wiped it off, revealing a rusty but perfectly shaped keyhole. "It's a door," she said. "And, look, the keyhole is round like the end of the key."

"You're right," her dad said. "It's a barrel lock."

Penny stuck the key in the lock and started to turn it, but her dad put his hand on hers. "We shouldn't," he said. "It must belong to the church. This is their property."

Penny pulled out the key. "What do you think is inside?" she said. "A cave? Treasure?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe a mausoleum or catacomb."

"A what?"

"A tomb, a grave."

"You mean a cemetery?" Her breath caught in her throat. Then she saw something appear over her dad's shoulder, on the top of the gully. It was a face, pale and gray. She raised her finger and pointed. "A g-g-ghost," she said.

Her dad turned, but it was gone.

Chapter 2

"Did you see it, Dad?" said Penny Jones. "Did you see the ghost?"

"I didn't," said Mr. Jones, "and I don't believe in ghosts."

"But, Dad, think about it. I find an old key in Dead Man's Gully, and a hidden door that could lead to an underground cemetery, and a ghost appears?"

"Penny, you did not see a ghost–you saw someone's face. We just don't know whose it was and why he or she was watching us."

"It was a he and he was staring at us with spooky eyes!"

"Maybe he knows something. Maybe he wanted to help."

"If he wanted to help, why would he disappear?"

"If someone pointed at you and screamed, would you stick around?"

"I would if I weren't a ghost."

"You would if you were a ghost. If you were a ghost, you wouldn't be afraid of anything."

"I thought you didn't believe in them."

"I don't. I believe in mysteries. And maybe this so-called ghost can help us solve this one."

"I love mysteries too, Dad, but maybe we should put the key back in the box under the rock and forget this one."

"Listen, sweetie, we're on church property. Why don't we just take the key to the rectory and see what they say about the door in the gully?"

Penny thought about it. On the one hand she was scared, but she still wanted to find out what was behind the door. So she hopped on her bike and followed her Dad around the block to Immaculate Conception Church.

In the rectory they met a nice lady who worked as a secretary. Penny gave the lady the key and described the door they had found. When the lady heard that the door was located in the gully, she seemed to think a moment. She picked up the phone and called someone. After she hung up, she said she had just spoken to the church's lawyer. He said the gully was the one part of the woods that the church didn't own. In fact, he didn't know who owned the gully. So the nice lady apologized and returned the key to Penny.

Outside, Penny sighed and said, "Now what do we do?"

"We find out who owns the gully," her dad said.

"But how?"

"I'll show you tomorrow."

The next day Penny's dad finished work early and took her to down to Brooklea Drive.

"What's this?" she said as they walked in a building.

"The Town of Manlius Clerk's Office," said her dad. "Straight ahead is the Department of Assessment. They figure out the taxes paid by everyone who owns land in town. So they know who owns what."

Penny's dad asked a clerk where the tax maps were located, and the clerk pointed to a counter holding two large white pads of paper. Penny's dad thanked the clerk and picked up Penny so she could see the pads. They were bigger than the largest picture books Penny had ever seen. Each page had line drawings of roads and streams and squares around people's yards.

"Cool," Penny said.

Penny's dad studied the index map and used it to find the number of the section map they needed. He turned to it.

"Hey," she said, "there's the church. It's huge. What's that?"

"An old railroad track."

"Is this grandma and grandpa's street down here?"

"Yep, Edgewood Drive."

Penny ran her finger up the page. "So this square in the middle of the church must be the gully. But all it says is a number. Now what?"

"Watch," her dad said. He asked the clerk to do a "cross-referral" on the tax map number to see who is paying the taxes for the property. In a few moments the clerk gave them the name of a woman and her address, which Penny's dad wrote down.

Outside, the lowering sun was starting to cast long shadows. "So that's who owns the property?" Penny said as they walked to the car.

"Probably," her dad said. "At least that's who pays the taxes on it."

"Are we going to see her?"

"If you want."

"What about the ghost?"

"I don't think ghosts leave notes on cars."

"Huh?"

Penny's dad took a note off of his windshield and handed it to her.

She read it. It said, "Mind Your Own Business!"

Chapter 3

Using the telephone book, Penny's dad found the number of the woman whose name they had gotten from the Tax Office.  Her name was Annabelle Hatch.  She said why yes, she did own the gully in the woods behind Immaculate Conception Church.  Would they like to join her for some afternoon refreshments and talk about it?

So Penny and her dad drove to Jamesville.  They climbed a big hill and stopped at a large gray-and-white building with white pillars.  Penny's dad said it was called The Nottingham.  He said, "Maybe some day you'll be bringing my grandchildren to visit your mom and me here."  She said, "The indoor pool is awesome.  Can we move in now?"

Her dad laughed and led her down a long hall.  He stopped at a door and knocked on it.  After a moment it opened, revealing an elderly lady with wavy white hair and a perfect smile.  The lady was Mrs. Hatch.  She invited Penny and her dad in and offered them cookies and lemonade.  Penny's eyes lit up, and Mrs. Hatch poured her a glass.

"So what's all this was about?" asked Mrs. Hatch.

Penny told her about the key and the door.  When she was done, she handed the key to Mrs. Hatch.  "Do you know what's behind the door?" Penny asked.

"No," said Mrs. Hatch.  "The gully has been in my husband's family for generations, rest his soul.  I knew about the door, but no one ever had the key and I didn't want to break down the door.  I've always wondered what's behind it, though."

"Do you think it could it be a tomb?" Penny's dad asked.

"Maybe," Mrs. Hatch said, "but everybody that I know of in the family is buried in the Fayetteville Cemetery."

"Do you have any kids?" he asked.

"No," said Mrs. Hatch.  "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," he said.  "Hmmm."

"Hmmm," said Mrs. Hatch.

Penny finished her lemonade and put her glass in the sink.  "Thanks for snack, Mrs. Hatch," she said.

"Thank you for coming," said Mrs. Hatch.  "And for bringing me this key.  I'm sorry I couldn't be more help to you in solving your mystery.  Then again maybe I can."

"How?" Penny asked.

"I'm not so good climbing down into gullies these days," said Mrs. Hatch.  "I'll never know what's behind the door without some help.  Would you mind finding out, then coming back and telling me?"

Mrs. Hatch held out the key.  Penny looked at her dad, who looked at her.  She didn't want to run into the spooky man again.  But Mrs. Hatch was so nice.  Penny swallowed.  "Sure," she said and took the key.

On the way home, dark clouds gathered in the sky above.  As Penny and her dad biked over to her grandparents' house, rain started to fall in big drops on her helmet. 

"Do you want to turn around?" her dad asked.

"No," she said.  "We're not made of brown sugar."

But she was glad when she made it into the woods, where the canopy of leaves stopped some of the rain.  She led her dad through the trees and up a hill.  They climbed down the side of Dead Man's Gully, and looked for the iron door among the loosened rocks.

"Here it is," Penny said.  The rain had covered it with mud.  She found the rusty keyhole and stuck the key in it.  Then, with her dad's help she turned the handle and pushed the door open, leaving the key in the keyhole.  

Inside was a room, very small, but neatly furnished.  There was a bed frame with a trunk at its foot, a table with plates and utensils stacked on it, a small spindly chair, and a night stand with a candle stick on it.  There was even a bookcase filled with books.  Penny imagined that the room might have been cozy at one time.  But now everything was covered with a thick coat of dust.

"Cool," she said.  "How old do you think this stuff is?"

"Well," her dad said, picking something up off the night stand, "this coin is a hundred and fifty years old."  

"And no one's been here since then?"

"If someone was in here, no one would know."

"Why?"

"Because this place is like a cave."

Suddenly the light faded and door slammed shut behind them, leaving them in darkness.

"Hey," she said.  She heard the door lock.

She and her father moved toward the door and felt for the handle.  They found it at the same time, but they couldn't turn it.

"It's locked," she said.

They pounded on the door and shouted for help.  But all they could hear on the other side was the faint patter of rain.

Chapter 4

Mr. Jones tried his cell phone but couldn't get a signal inside the room.  He used the glow of the screen to light his way to the nightstand by the bed.  In a drawer, among some old coins, he found a box of matchsticks.  They were damp and old, and none worked.  Penny turned on a flashlight and said, "Need a light, Dad?"

"That's my girl," he laughed.  "Where did you get it?"

"From your glove compartment while you were getting your bike."

They used the flashlight to look around the room.  The walls were made of stone, and the ceiling was made of wood beams.  There was nothing in the trunk at the foot of the bed, and nothing under the bed.   

In the bookshelf, which stood nearly as tall as Mr. Jones, they found rows and rows of books.  Among them were first editions of Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, My Bondage and My Discipline, by Frederick Douglas, and Poems on Slavery by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.  They were also maps of the Eastern United States.  The maps showed routes from the South, through the North, into Canada.  

"This must have been a stop on the Underground Railroad," said Mr. Jones.

"The what?" Penny said.

"A place for people to hide and rest as they escaped from the South to the North."

"What were they escaping from?"

"Slavery.  It may be hard to imagine now but a hundred and fifty years ago many people in the South were kept as slaves and forced to work on plantations, where they were treated brutally.  Some of them were able to escape with the help of people up North.  The route they used to escape was called the Underground Railroad."

"It was underground?"

"Maybe some of the stops, but the railroad itself was above ground, just a secret path through the fields and woods.  See this route here, from Pennsylvania, through Syracuse, to Watertown?  And this one, from Delaware, to New Jersey, to New York City, to Albany, over to Syracuse, then west to Buffalo?"

"They came through here?"

"Absolutely.  Syracuse was the home of many abolitionists.  Matilda Joslyn Gage was one.  Her home was about a mile from here.  It was a stop on the underground railroad.  She helped people by giving them a place to hide and sleep during the day, before they set off north again at night.  Harriet Tubman was another abolitionist.  Her home was in Auburn, about thirty miles west of here.  She was a conductor on the underground railroad–she actually led people to freedom."

"I wish she were here now, Dad.  The batteries in the flashlight are dying."

"Let's find a way out of here."

They looked some more around the room until Mr. Jones said, "Stop.  What's that noise?"

"My sneakers squishing," Penny said.  "I'm standing in a puddle."

"Water?" her dad said.  "Where's it coming from?"

"It's raining outside."

"But the door is over there and the puddle is here."

Penny's eyes widened.  She pointed the flashlight at the floor.  "It's coming from there, under the bookshelf."

Using his shoulder, Mr. Jones shoved the bookshelf aside.  Penny swept the dimming beam of light across the wall, and found a hole in it.  The hole was about waist high and shoulder width.  Before her dad could stop her, she ducked into it.  Her dad followed.

The hole led to another room.  The room was smaller than the first, with three more beds in it and clay walls.  The clay walls showed dozens of handprints.  Mr. Jones stepped closer to study them.  "These must be the handprints of the people who passed through here," he said.

Penny nudged him and pointed to the back of the room.  Against the far wall leaned a wooden ladder.  It reached all the way to the ceiling, where a square hole was cut.  The hole was covered by a metal grate, through which water was dripping.

"If there's water coming in," Penny said, "there must be a way out!"

Chapter 5

Mr. Jones borrowed Penny's dimming flashlight, climbed the wooden ladder in the back of the room, and examined the metal grate covering the hole in the ceiling.  "Looks like there are hinges over here," he said, "so over here must be a–"  As he struggled with a rusty latch, the grate swung down, barely missing his head.

"Dad!" Penny shouted.  "Be careful!"

A cloud of dust spewed from the hole, sending Mr. Jones into a fit of coughing.  When he stopped, he wiped his eyes and said, "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Penny said, "but the flashlight's almost dead.  What's up there?"

Mr. Jones climbed a few rungs and swept aside some cobwebs.  "There's another ladder in here–a metal one bolted to the side."  His voice echoed inside the hole.  "The walls are made of rock.  Up above at the end of the tunnel, there appears to be a–a–"

"Yes?" Penny said.  "A what?"

"Well, it seems to be a–a–"

"A what, dad?  What is it?"

Mr. Jones poked his head down through the hole and said, "A little green leprechaun with a wee pot o' gold."

"Dad!"

"It's another grate–one without a latch.  There seems to be a huge rock over it."

"Can you move it?"

Penny could hear her dad grunt.  The ladder creaked.  Finally he came down, wiped some sweat off of his forehead and said, "It's too heavy."

"We're going to be stuck in Dead Man's Gully forever?"

"Was that bed frame in the other room made of metal?"

"I think so.  Why?"

She followed him back to the bed.  The light was gone now.  She listened to him slide the trunk aside, kneel down and wrestle with the bed.  After a while he stood up and said, "Whew, they really knew how to make beds back then."

"What are you doing?"

"Getting this bed rail.  The slats in the metal grate look wide enough to get this rail through them.  If so, I might be able to use a slat as a fulcrum and the bed rail as a lever so I can–"

"Roll the rock aside!  Try it!"

"Don't get too excited.  The rail has to fit through the grate first."

She followed him back to the ladder.  She held it as he climbed into the hole.  She heard the sound of metal clank against metal, then metal scrape against rock.  Finally a sliver of golden light pierced the darkness. 

"It's working!" she shouted.

She watched him use the rail to roll the rock over.  Then he slid his fingers through the grate and pushed.  After a moment of struggling, he popped the grate loose.  Daylight flooded into the hole.  "You did it, dad!"

Up above, Penny could see tree leaves waving and the sun shining.  The storm had stopped.  When she neared the top of the ladder, she felt her dad reach down and lift her up into his arms.  She hugged him then slid to the ground.  The air felt cool against her skin.  Then a wave of worry washed over her.  "Do you see the scary man anywhere?" she said.

"No but I think we're safe."

Her dad waved to someone down a hill.  It was a man in a dark blue short-sleeved shirt with a silver badge on his chest.  "Hooray!" Penny said.  "It's the police!"  But as she and her dad approached the officer, she saw an older man beside him.  The older man's face was pale and gray.  Fear shot through her.  It was the scary man from the gully, the one who had left the threatening note and locked them in the cave!  She grabbed her dad's hand then hid behind him as he talked to the two men.

"I'm Horace Hatch," said the scary man, "and I'm the nephew of Annabelle Hatch, the owner of this land.  I told you and your daughter not to trespass here, but you ignored me and went nosing around."  He turned to the officer and said, "I was just keeping them in that room until the law arrived.  I was protecting my inheritance.  Whatever treasure's behind that door is mine."

"Mr. Hatch," said the officer, "you can't lock someone in a cave for trespassing on land you don't own."

"Particularly when the 'trespassers' have the owners' permission," said Mr. Jones.  He explained how he and Penny had brought the key they had found to Annabelle Hatch, who had asked them to use it to see what's inside the room as a favor to her.

Horace hung his head.  "I guess I should have talked to Aunt Annabelle."

"If I call Annabelle Hatch," said the officer, "and she confirms Mr. Jones' story, and he wants to press charges, I'm taking you down to the station, Mr. Hatch.  What do you want to do, Mr. Jones?"

Mr. Jones looked down at Penny.  "What do you think, sweetie?"

Chapter 6

Penny looked at Horace Hatch and thought about whether the police officer should bring him to jail.  Horace's face was paler and grayer than before, and he was looking down at his boots, which were old and muddy.  "Well, we didn't get hurt," said Penny, "and he looks sorry.  I say we forgive him."

Mr. Jones liked that answer.  After he said goodbye to Horace and the officer, he picked up Penny, kissed her cheek and promised to take her to Sno Top for ice cream.  "But first," he said, "I think we should pay a visit to Annabelle Hatch."

They rode their bikes home then drove to the Nottingham.  Mrs. Hatch was playing bingo in the TV room.  When she saw Penny and her dad, she set aside her card and took them into the library.  "I haven't been this excited since I won Super Keno at Turning Stone," she said.  "Tell me, what did you find?"

Mr. Jones told her what he and Penny had found and what had happened to them.

"Oh, my," said Mrs. Hatch, "that's horrible!  Horace did that?  I'll have to talk to him."

"Here's the key," said Penny.

"Thank you, dear, but this thing with Horace has made my mind up about something I've been considering."

Penny and her dad watched Mrs. Hatch stand up, walk across the library and stare out a curtained window.

"Mrs. Hatch, are you all right?" said Mr. Jones.

""It's a hard decision is all," said Mrs. Hatch, "but I think it's the right one."

"What is it?"

"How would you like to own the gully?"

Mr. Jones looked at Penny.  "But we couldn't," Penny said to Mrs. Hatch.  "It's yours."

"It won't be mine forever," said Mrs. Hatch.  "I'm no spring chicken, you know.  Last year I lost to Winnie Puffinberger in the fifty-yard breaststroke at the Empire State Games.  That woman needs water wings to stay afloat in aqua-aerobics class."

"But Horace is your family, and he wants it."

"He doesn't deserve it, not after the way he acted.  He'll only plunder the cave and sell its treasures.  He doesn't realize that the real treasure is having the things together in one place, as they were long ago, so people can see the past."

Penny looked hopefully at her dad.  Mr. Jones said, "You're right, Mrs. Hatch, the cave should be preserved.  But that's a big responsibility, making sure the public can visit it.  Maybe you could give the land to Immaculate Conception Church, and give the cave to someone you know would do a good job of showing it to people.  Like the Gage Home in Fayetteville.  If the cave was part of the underground railroad, then Matilda Joslyn Gage almost surely had a connection to it."

"Now that's a fine idea!  How can I thank you for your help?"

"You don't have to thank us, Mrs. Hatch," Penny said.  "We had fun–even during the scary parts."

Mr. Jones promised to call the Gage Home in the morning, and Mrs. Hatch said she would want Penny to lead the Home's curator through the cave for the first time.  Mrs. Hatch shook Mr. Jones' hand, then leaned down and shook Penny's hand.  "Let me know if you find any more keys in Dead Man's Gully, will you?" Mrs. Hatch said to Penny.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Hatch."

That night, after dinner, Penny and her family went to Sno Top for desert.  Then they stopped by Penny's grandparents' house for a visit.  While her parents relaxed on the back porch, Penny helped her three-year-old sister hunt for her own mysterious key in the woods.  They didn't find one, but that was all right with Penny.  She knew another mystery was right around the corner.