Mystery at the Crooked House by Gertrude Chandler Warner

CHAPTER 1
The Marshmallow Mix-up
    “Guess who’s helping decorate the tree,” said six-year-old Benny. Watch came running across the snowy backyard with a popcorn ball in his mouth. “Even Watch wants to help the birds!”
    Twelve-year-old Jessie was hanging a string of cranberries from the branches of a pine tree. She turned and smiled at their little dog. “Watch knows it’s hard for birds to find food in the winter.”
    “Everything is frozen and covered with snow at this time of year,” added ten-year-old Violet as she tightened the purple scarf around her neck.

    Purple was Violet’s favorite color, and she almost always wore something purple or violet.
    “Not all birds fly south,” added Henry. He took the popcorn ball from Watch and hung it from one of the higher branches. At fourteen, Henry was the oldest of the Alden children. “Some birds stay where it’s cold. They make their homes wherever they can find a warm, dry spot.”
    Benny glanced over his shoulder at their red boxcar. “Just like we did!”
    He was thinking back to when they had discovered the old abandoned train car in the woods. Their parents had died, and they were hiding from their grandfather because they thought he was mean. But Grandfather Alden wasn’t mean at all.
    After finding his grandchildren, Grandfather Alden had brought the four Aldens and Watch to live with him in his big white house on the edge of the town of Greenfield, Connecticut. And when he had realized how much they missed the boxcar, Grandfather Alden had given their old home a special place in his backyard. Now the Aldens often used the boxcar as a clubhouse.
    Jessie stepped back to admire their tree. She clapped her mittened hands together and said, “What a feast the birds will have!”
    Violet went over and stood beside her older sister. The tree was quite a sight, with its decorations of popcorn balls, apple rings, loops of red cranberries and unshelled peanuts, corn on the cob, and little mesh bags of suet. Everything was tied to the branches with brightly colored yarn.
    “Birds have huge appetites,” Violet said softly. “Even a tiny hummingbird eats every ten minutes or so!”
    Benny grinned. “No wonder they hum. They must be very happy birds!”
    They all laughed. The youngest Alden was always hungry.
    “I’ll bet we’ll soon have lots of visitors,” remarked Henry.
    Benny was stomping his feet to keep them warm. He had a look of concern on his face. “But what if the birds don’t spot our tree?”
    “Don’t worry, Benny,” said Violet. “The chickadees will find it. Other birds hang around chickadees because they’re such good food-finders!”
    “Just like we’re good clue-finders!” said Benny. And his brother and sisters nodded in agreement. The Aldens loved mysteries, and together they’d managed to solve quite a few. “But are you sure the chickadees will find our tree?” Benny asked.
    “Maybe we should leave an invitation for them!” suggested Henry, hiding a smile. He knelt down and began to write in the snow. When he was finished, he got up and brushed the snow from his pant legs.
    “I know what that says!” Benny announced proudly. The youngest Alden always enjoyed a chance to show his older brother and sisters that he was learning how to read. “It says, ‘Welcome Birds!’ ”
    Violet stooped down and added something to Henry’s invitation. “And ... bring ... all ... your ... friends!”
    “That should really do the trick!” said Benny.
    Jessie was staring down at the writing in the snow. “A person’s handwriting is supposed to show some interesting things,” she said.
    “Like what?” asked Violet.
    “Well, Henry’s handwriting slants to the right a bit,” said Jessie, who had been reading a book on handwriting. “That’s supposed to show he’s a very friendly person. And he’s careful with each letter. I can tell he’s probably a hard worker, too.”
    “Jessie’s right, Henry!” said Violet.