Read Boxcar Children 54 - Hurricane Mystery for Free Online

business,” said Mrs. Ashleigh a couple of days later, coming out onto the front porch.
    The Aldens had finished repairing the porch and had even added new steps to replace the stump. Now they were painting. “I don’t suppose anybody would like to come with me,” Mrs. Ashleigh went on.
    “Me!” said Benny, dropping his paintbrush.
    “I think we’d all like to go visit Mr. Farrier’s studio,” said Jessie.
    The Aldens changed out of their porch-painting clothes, and soon they were on their way to Charleston.
    Many people were still working to clean up after the hurricane. “We can’t waste time here,” said Mrs. Ashleigh with a rueful smile. “You never know when the next hurricane will hit.”
    Mr. Farrier’s shop was a low brick building not far from the Hoofbeats of History carriage tours stable. Inside, they found Mr. Farrier hard at work hammering a piece of red-hot iron into a curved shape. He wore a hat and safety goggles and gloves. The hammer rang against the hot metal with a dull clang, clang sound. Sometimes sparks flew up when the hammer hit the iron.
    When he’d finished shaping the iron, he dipped it into a nearby bucket of water to cool it off, then put it down carefully. He pushed back his safety goggles, took off his gloves, and came over to shake hands.
    “Mrs. Ashleigh. I’m glad to see you. I need to talk to you about that gate,” said Mr. Farrier.
    “Can’t it be fixed?” asked Mrs. Ashleigh in a worried voice.
    “Oh, yes, it can be fixed. But . . .” He stopped and looked around at the four children. “Anyway, if I could have a word with you in private.”
    Mrs. Ashleigh said, “Of course. But I have an appointment at the bank right now.”
    “Could we stay and watch Mr. Farrier work?” asked Jessie. “Just for a little while.”
    “If it’s all right with Mr. Farrier. Then you can walk down to the bank to meet me.”
    Mr. Farrier nodded. “You’re welcome to stay for a little while, and I can give you directions to the bank,” he said. “Just don’t get too close to the fire or the hot metal. You’ll have to sit over there.” He pointed to an iron bench along one brick wall.
    The Aldens readily agreed.
    As Mr. Farrier worked, he told the children about how he had learned his skill from his father, who had learned it from his father before him. “My great-great-great-grandfather was a slave,” said Mr. Farrier matter-of-factly. “But he was so good at making wrought-iron and cast-iron designs for fences and balconies that he was able to buy his freedom with the money he made. He set up his own shop and soon had more business than he could handle. You can still see some of his work around town today. It’s famous and very valuable.”
    Mr. Farrier poured molten iron into hollow molds shaped like rosettes and stars. “The same as putting cake batter into a cake pan,” he explained. “I have molds in all different sizes and shapes. When the iron cools, it hardens and I remove the mold. Then I’ll have an iron decoration shaped like the mold. That’s called cast iron, and it can be hollow or solid.”
    He pointed to the bench they were sitting on. “That’s cast iron. I make molds of different sections and weld them together. But the bench also has some wrought iron, which is shaped by hand.”
    “What is the Pirate’s Gate?” asked Henry.
    Mr. Farrier gave Henry a sharp look. “Not much of the Pirate’s Gate was made with molds — it’s mostly wrought iron. You kids really are interested in that gate, aren’t you?”
    As he worked, Mr. Farrier asked the Aldens what they knew about the Pirate’s Gate. He seemed very uneasy and kept checking the back door of the studio to make sure it was locked.
    “What are you making?” asked Benny.
    “Window grills,” said Mr. Farrier. “You put them in front of windows and people can’t break in.”
    “Who are they for?” asked Jessie.
    “Me,” said Mr. Farrier. He jerked his head toward the windows of his