The Carlton Mystery: The mystery of the old clock

By Charles Creager Sr

Follow the Carlton family as they explore the mystery surrounding the old clock in their hallway. This mystery includes puzzle-solving, a kidnapping, and a lot more. This intriguing novel was written in the 1960s and it reflects the time it was written. As such it lacks the use of common 21st-century technology. As a result, this mystery cannot be solved by Google search. This adds to the intrigue, as others get involved providing an element of danger that will keep you wondering what is going to happen next.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charles P Creager Jr.
• Release date: Jul 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201841959

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

BOTTOM OF THE NINTH

The game has been a close one all afternoon, folks. It is now the bottom of the ninth, said the announcer of Radio Station WSWO.

The radio station always broadcasted the various sports events of Westover High.

There are two outs and two men on base for Westover, continued the announcer; and Plainville High is still leading 4 to 3.  Biff Wilson is to be up at bat next. . . .  But wait a minute, I see Bill Sharpe is coming in to pinch hit for Biff!

Biff, whose real name was Barret, was injured back in the sixth inning. Now, Bill, a lefty, was to take his place at bat.   Strike one, cried the umpire as the ball cut the corner of the plate.   The ball whizzed back to Plainville's pitcher who checked the runners on first and second.

Swish, came the ball as Bill held back on his bat.

Ball one, yelled the umpire.

The runner on second started for third, then checked himself, and returned to second base. The Plainville pitcher wiped his hands on his pants and turned the ball over and over in his hands.

There’s the stretch and the pitch, said the radio announcer.  It is a slow one.

Bill just clipped the ball so that it went foul.  The next ball came in very fast but too low. The count was now two and two.  The runners held their bases.

It is now or never, thought Johnny Carlton to himself as he stepped off a little from second base ready to run.

The pitcher wound up for the pitch, threw the ball and Johnny started to leave second.  The ball came in high for ball three.  The Plainville catcher scooped up the ball and threw it Quickly to third.

Johnny reversed himself and headed back to second base.

The third baseman is swinging around! yelled the announcer into the microphone.  There’s the throw to second!  Johnny Carlton is sliding!  Will he make it?  Whew!  Just in time!  He’s safe! 

The count was now 3 and 2.  Bill placed his bat between his legs and wiped his hands.  Bill Sharpe, a sophomore, and Jim, his freshman brother were PK’s—Preacher’s Kids.  Their father was pastor of the Westover Bible Church.  They had a younger sister, Faith, who was eleven.  The entire family including Mrs. Sharpe was at the game.  You can imagine that by now they, as well as all the Westover fans, were on the edge of their seats.

Bill took his stance.  The Plainville pitcher checked his runners.

Red-headed Jerry Bowers was a little off first ready to run.  The pitcher wound up for the pitch, stretched, . . .  Suddenly he swung around and threw the ball to first.  But Jerry was not caught napping.  With a quick jump he hit the bag and just in time as the first basemen caught the ball!  The stands grew quiet as Plainville’s pitcher again wiped his hands on his pants.

This is the crucial pitch, intoned the announcer. There is the wind up, the stretch, and the pitch! It’s a beauty!

Crack, went the bat, and the ball flew shoulder high between second and third bases right into the outfield where there was no one. The Westover fans were up on their feet shouting.  Bill stretched out his legs as he

Johnny Carlton has rounded third and is nearly home! yelled the announcer. One run is in!

The red head was just rounding third and heading for the home stretch as the Plainville outfielder got to the ball.  He scooped it up, but by this time red-headed Jerry was home safe and Bill was rounding third.

Bill is heading home! shouted the WSWO announcer. Here comes the throw from the Plainville outfielder.

Plainville’s pitcher caught the ball, swung around, and relayed it to the catcher.

Bill Sharpe is sliding for home, folks! cried out the announcer. Will he make it?

The umpire threw off his mask peering careful1y.

Is he out or safe? wailed the announcer.

Gradually the dust settled, and there stood the umpire with arms stretched down and out with his palms down.

He's safe! yelled the WSWO announcer. Wow, what a hit! what running!

The Westover fans were wild, yelling and slapping each other on the back.  The whole stand seemed to shake with jubilation. Westover had won over Plainville, 6 to 4. Bill Sharpe was the hero of the day.  As he returned to the bench, Coach Richard Connelly was the first to congratulate him.  He was followed by Bill’s brother, Jim, a studious bespectacled lad who was manager of the team—a fancy name for water boy and towel caretaker.

What a game this has been, Ladies and gentlemen! stated the announcer.  Our B1l1 Platt is wending his way down to the Westover bench with a microphone to try to interview both Coach Connelly and the up and coming baseball star, Bill Sharpe.  While we are waiting, listen to this important announcement.

Immediately, there was heard a commercial for the Brookside Dairy which was sponsoring the game.  Brookside Dairy was owned and operated Biff Wilson’s father.  Perhaps. that is why Biff was somewhat on the plump side—from eating all that fine ice cream his dad's dairy made. Biff, Bill Sharpe, Jerry Bowers and Johnny Carlton were all sophomores and good buddies.  Westover had lost most of its baseball team last year through graduation of the seniors.  Few juniors were on the team this year.  Because Bill and Jim were PK’s, they came in for some good-natured ribbing.  Biff, whose father was an elder of the Westover Bible Church—where Bill and Jim's father was pastor, and Johnny Carlton both attended there.  Jerry Bowers. however, did not.  In fact, he did not attend church anywhere.  Nevertheless. he was a good friend of Bill and often joked about Bill’s faith.

As Bill sat down on the bench, Jerry retorted. Well, preacher boy, I never thought you could do it.

Bill just grinned, but made no reply.  He knew that behind that sarcasm, there was genuine admiration.  Just then, Bill Platt of WSWO arrived.  He talked briefly to Coach Connelly who then motioned to Bill to come over.

After a signal from the other announcer, Bill Platt said, Ladies and gentlemen, we have before our WSWO microphones the coach and star of today’s game.  Coach Connelly, what do you have to say about that game winning hit?

Well, replied Coach Connelly, To say that I was thrilled by it would be the understatement of the season.

Were you surprised by it? asked Announcer Platt.

Not entirely, answered the coach. Bill is basically a good player, and he has shown up well in practice sessions.

You have somewhat answered my next question, Coach, said Platt, for I was going to ask you why you picked him to pinch hit for Biff Wilson.

As I was thinking about who to have pinch hit for Biff, stated the coach, I simply asked the Lord who I should put in his place.

We are aware of your religiosity, retorted the announcer somewhat briskly.  In fact, if my memory serves me right, you are a Sunday School teacher and an officer of that Westover Bible Church.

Your memory serves you well, replied Coach Connelly pleasantly.

I am not only Bill’s coach, I am also his Sunday School teacher. But as I was saying, when I asked the Lord whom I should put in Buff’s place, it seemed as though the Lord said to me, ‘Put in Bill Sharpe.’ So I did. 

Thank you, Coach Connelly, said Announcer Platt matter-of-factly.

And now, folks, here is the star of this game, Bill Sharpe.

A shout arose from those standing around.  After about a minute or so of hand waving the announcer was able to quiet them.

He said, Well, how does it feel, Bill, to be the hero of this game?

Well, e’er, ah, . . . I don't deserve any credit, stammered Bill, as he finally got over the mike fright.  After all, I only stood there and let the ball hit my bat, and I ran as fast as my legs would carry me.  Others deserve the credit.

Very modestly put, interrupted Platt.  Were you surprised when you hit such a swell hit? 

Yes, Sir, at least in some respects, replied Bill a little more at ease. But if it had not been for others, I could have never been able to do it."

Who, for instance? asked the announcer.

Well. certainly, my mom and dad deserve credit, for they not only gave me life, but they have trained me in good clean living.  Then, Dad led me to the Lord.

That makes a difference? retorted the announcer sarcastically and amusedly.

It certainly does, grinned Bill ignoring the sarcasm.  Of course, Coach Connelly deserves a lot of credit, too, continued Bill, for he trained me not only in sports but also in spiritual things.

You just can't stay away from the religious, can you? sighed Platt. What's that got to do with the hit?

Well, before I answer that, stated Bill, I wish to say that my brother Jim also deserves credit.

Why? asked Announcer Platt wondering.

Because laughed Bill, without his help on my studies, I would not have remained eligible for baseball practice, let alone, the team. I always did my own work, but since he is the brains of the outfit, he often checked my work and would point out what was wrong.

I see, chuckled the announcer as he thought about Bill’s bespectacled brother, standing nearby.

In reply to your earlier question, Bill continued. No, I can not stay away from Christianity.  When that count reached three and two, I asked the Lord to enable me to hit that ball well if I could glorify Him by doing so. He did enable me.  So, the Lord really deserves all the credit for that hit and the win.

I give up, laughed the announcer.  I guess I should have known that anyone who belongs to Westover Bible Church would find some way to bring the Lord into the situation.  Well, folks, there you have it. Westover High has beaten Plainville High, 6 to 4, thanks to that fine hit by Bill Sharpe; I mean, thanks to the Lord!

Though the last remark was said with a certain sarcasm in his voice, you could tell by his tone and his looks that he said it with a certain admiration. With the interview over. and the team heading back to the dressing room. Johnny Carlton edged his way over to Bill.

Remember, you and your family are expected over to our place for a sort of victory dinner.

It’s at six-thirty, isn’t it? replied Bill.

Yes, said Johnny. You're coming, too, Jerry, are you not? he continued turning to the red head.

I don’t know, said Jerry Bowers. Some of the other fellows were talking about having a bash, if we won.

Well, I don’t know what they mean by a ‘bash,’ retorted Jim Sharpe, but I can imagine.

Sure, come on over to the Carltons, urged Bill Sharpe. You'll have a good time with no regrets afterwards. We promise we won’t get too religious.

Bill’s last remark was said with a twinkle in his eye and was a good-natured reply to Jerry’s jab earlier when Bill returned to the bench.

I guess after that statement, laughed Jerry, I better come, or else I am sure to miss out on something. Count me in.

Good, Johnny said hurriedly. You won't regret it. Besides, we will have a lot of goodies to eat. Biff is supplying ice cream.

That does it, Jerry said almost doubling over with laughter

If there was anything that Jerry liked better than ice cream, it was more ice cream. Only Biff Wilson could out eat him when it came to that desert enjoyed by most everyone.

Be seeing you, then, yelled Johnny plunging into the shower room.

See you at six-thirty, the other boys replied as they finished removing their baseball uniforms.

CHAPTER 2

THE OLD CLOCK

I can hardly wait till we get to Carlton Manor, said Faith Sharpe, Bill, and Jim's younger sister, for I have never seen the inside of it.

None of us has been there except Dad, replied Bill.

It's a fabulous place, interjected the Reverend William Sharpe, Sr.

It must be, replied Faye, which was Faith's nickname, if it is anything like the grounds and driveway.

I am sure, said Mrs. Sharpe. We all want to see the inside of that mansion.  But even so it will be nothing compared to the mansions the Lord is preparing for us in Heaven.

You are so right, replied Pastor Sharpe as he looked at her affectionately.  But it can serve as a very, very small picture of our heavenly home.

Just then the Sharpe family rounded the curve and came into view of Carlton Manor, perhaps the ritziest place in all of Westover. Carlton Manor has belonged to the Carlton family for many generations. The place dated back to before the revolutionary war. Up until last year, Mr. Carlton’s father, Mr. John Carlton had lived in the place. After his death, the house remained empty for nearly a year. The Carltons moved into the place just after school had started when Mr. John Carlton, Jr. was made vice-president of the J and R Manufacturing Company's plant in Westover. Johnny Carlton was actually John A. Carlton the Third.  But he didn’t particular1y like to be called by his full name. Sometimes, when his parents were provoked at him, they would address him by his full name.  Likewise. his buddies would sometimes use it just to it just to a rise out of him.  Most or the time Johnny took it good-naturedly, then he would reply in kind supplying the title, Mister; before the other person’s name.

As the Sharpes turned into the driveway of Carlton Manor, Faye jokingly said, Be sure, Bill, not to spend all of your time with Diane.

The rest of the family laughed heartily for it was no secret that Bill liked Diane Carlton, Johnny’s younger sister, who was a freshman.

I won’t even speak to her, replied Bill blushing.

I bet, retorted Jim with a smile.

They all laughed including Bill.

Isn’t this tree-lined driveway beautiful? said Mrs. Sharpe droitly changing the subject.

Yea. but think of all the leaves that Johnny has to pick up each fall, groaned Bill and Jim almost simultaneously.

I think they have a tractor with an attachment that either picks UP the leaves or mulches them or both, replied Pastor Sharpe.  At least I know that they have a tractor with a lawn mower attachment to cut the lawn.

In that case, said Bill laughing, I’ll have to ask Johnny if I can come over to help him.

You can hardly do our own lawn, stated Dad Sharpe with a smile, and you are going to ask Johnny to help him?

While this good-natured banter was going on, the Sharpe family were driving slowly up the driveway which seemed endless.  Each was admiring various parts of the