The Hayloft. A 1950s Mystery

gone. The necklace has been missing for over a hundred years. A few more months won’t matter.”
    “But what if the farm workers find it?”
    “They won’t. It’s too well hidden for that.”
    “How do you know? Let me see the document that Ralph wrote.”
    Ed shook his head. “No, I can’t do that. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”
    I was getting exasperated. “Ed, why exactly did you come here today?”
    “To make sure you aren’t doing exactly what you’re doing. This necklace belongs to all of us. Not just to you yanks. Just because we’re not rich like you are doesn’t mean that we don’t deserve better.”
    “If we were rich, instead of penny loafers, I’d wear quarter loafers. I was loading hay wagons during the summer for a buck an hour. And if you’re so intent on getting the necklace, why did you even tell me about it?”
    Ed put out his hands, palms up. “Because I need your help. Because you have access to the barn at any time, and I don’t. In spite of what I said, I’m afraid that somebody will find the necklace and run off with it. You’re up here almost every day. You can keep an eye on what’s happening.”
    “You’re sure you won’t say anything about Nat and me?”
    “Of course not.” He grinned. “How is she in the hay? Pretty nice, eh?”
    I pushed him over a bale.

    CHAPTER 23
    It was Wednesday, and I hadn’t seen Sylvia to really talk to since Sunday. I hadn’t kissed her or even held her hand. Natalie had heightened my sensibilities, and I needed to do those things.
    This was an unsatisfactory way to conduct a relationship, especially since Sylvia was tantalizingly close to me at lunchtime. Close, but I couldn’t do more than trade a word or two with her as we turned in our trays and headed our separate ways to afternoon classes. At least a couple of girls were eating with her now, so she wasn’t alone, even when Barney and Ed strayed.
    Natalie ate lunch with Joe. She didn’t look in my direction. It was just as well. She was trouble with a capital T. Ed joined me at lunch and seemed to be intent on staying on my good side. I assumed this was because of the necklace, but whatever the reason, if he wanted to be my friend, he wouldn’t be spreading gossip about Natalie and me.
    We chatted about the newspaper business, since that was a common interest. Ed asked me to write articles for the Carter Bulldog. I told him I was prohibited from doing that by Dr. Graves. He said I could use a pseudonym. I declined, figuring that this was just another way to get into trouble.
    “I’m doing a big article on Joe Hawkins,” Ed said, looking at me to get my reaction. “He’s being wooed by several universities, including Cornell.”
    “Has he got the smarts to get into Cornell?” I asked.
    “Football players get special dispensation.”
    I was about to make a remark about the poor girls at Cornell if Joe became their idol, but I bit my lip to keep myself from speaking.
    “I’m watching the practices all this week and interviewing him, of course. I’d also like to get some comments from Natalie.”
    He should have thought about that before he taunted her. But at least it was another reason for him not to say anything about Natalie and me. Sylvia got up from her table the same time I got up from mine. As we handed our trays in through the window to the kitchen, Sylvia whispered, “Can you come over after school?”
    “I don’t know,” I whispered back. “I’ll let you know when school lets out.”
    ***
    I had an idea based on the fact that Ed was going to be at football practice, which is why I told Sylvia I didn’t know whether I could go to her house after school. My idea needed Kate’s cooperation, which might be difficult to get. The first thing I had to do was to track her down, since we didn’t eat at the same lunch period or, of course, have any classes together.
    The best time to talk to her would be right after school, when the majority of the students were boarding buses for the ride home. I found out from Ed which bus he and Kate rode and went outside to the parking lot where they loaded as soon as we were dismissed for the day.
    The school owned many of the big yellow buses, because it was a rural district and the homes were spread out. They stood in a line with their doors open, looking to my jaundiced eye like yellow sharks, waiting with their mouths open to gobble up the unsuspecting students. Numbers were painted on them in black,