“A porcupine!” Liz said.

  “Well, Jessie, it could have been worse,” said Benny. “You could have landed on that!”

  The little critter waddled away into the brush, and the Aldens headed back on their way, with Henry and Liz helping Jessie along.

  They managed to get back to camp without any more slipups, but Jessie was still in pain. She sat in the tent and tried to dry off while she rubbed her swelling ankle. After a little while, Liz came in.

  “I just called my father,” she said. “Judging by the swelling in that ankle, I think the safest thing is for us to go back to Hemlock. He’ll meet us on the road in a little while.”

  Jessie sighed. She didn’t want their adventure to be over, and she felt bad about interrupting Grandfather’s fishing trip. But the way her ankle was feeling, she also couldn’t imagine continuing on.

  Liz was right. Stopping now was for the best.

  THE END

  TO FOLLOW ANOTHER PATH, GO TO PAGE 81.

  RACE TO THE MOUNTAIN

  The children quickly tore down their campsite and packed up their raft. Then they pulled on their life jackets and helped Liz push the raft back into the water. They’d have to organize their things later. Now they had to catch up to Maggie.

  The group paddled hard. The current was steady and not too rough, and after a while Maggie’s kayak came into view. As it did, the banks of the river rose up, and the valley became more like a canyon between two cliffs.

  “We’re in White-Water Canyon now,” said Liz. “It’s rockier here, so we’ll need to pay extra attention.”

  Ahead, there was a split in the river, and like the first time, Maggie turned right.

  Liz looked very serious when she addressed the Aldens.

  “That way is Rockslide Creek,” she said. “It’s some of the toughest rapids in the area, especially at this time of year. I know you want to catch up to her, but it’s a big risk. I don’t know if we’re ready for it.”

  “And the other way?” Jessie asked.

  “That’s the main route through White-Water Canyon. It will take longer, and it can still be tough, but we definitely have a better chance of staying in the raft,” Liz said.

  The children looked ahead to the split. They had a decision to make, and soon.

  IF THE ALDENS GO DOWN ROCKSLIDE CREEK, GO TO PAGE 98.

  IF THE ALDENS TAKE THE SAFER ROUTE THROUGH WHITE-WATER CANYON, GO TO PAGE 103.

  THROUGH ROCKSLIDE CREEK

  “Who else could have taken the journal?” Jessie said. “Maggie knew we had it back at The Slippery Salmon, and she keeps popping up at every turn.”

  “But why would she take it?” asked Violet.

  “Only one way to find out,” said Henry. “Liz, let’s go after her. We’re ready.”

  The other Aldens nodded in agreement.

  “All right,” said Liz. “But I need you all to pay very close attention. Here we go!”

  Liz veered the raft right. Immediately the current picked up speed. Drops from the river sprayed in their faces as the raft crashed ahead, bouncing off rocks that jabbed out of the river like teeth.

  At every turn Liz was ready. She called out commands, and the children reacted. They had been in enough adventures to know that paying attention and listening to the expert were the best ways to get through a challenging situation. Liz had eyes like an eagle as she navigated them through the white water.

  “Big drop. EVERYONE DOWN!” Liz yelled.

  The children dove to the center of the raft as they went over the drop. Liz whooped with excitement as they fell. It was exhilarating!

  The raft hit the water, and a wave washed over the front. For a moment it seemed like the raft might stay underwater, but a moment later, it shot back out, and they were on their way again.

  Then, almost as quickly as they had sped up, the rapids calmed. Liz took her position again at the back of the raft. The Aldens sat up too. Big smiles spread across each of their faces.

  “What a ride!” cheered Benny. “Just like a roller coaster!”

  “Great job, everyone,” Liz said. She was out of breath but was smiling bigger than any of them. Benny wasn’t sure he had ever seen her so happy. Then she squinted. Up ahead Maggie was still zipping away in her red kayak. They’d gained on her, but if they didn’t hurry, they would lose her.

  “Umm…what’s that sound?” Jessie asked.

  A high-pitched whining was coming from the raft near where Jessie was sitting. It sounded like air coming out of a balloon.

  “Oh, shoot,” Liz said. She bent over the side of the raft and groaned. “Come on, we need to paddle to shore. Quickly! There’s a rip in the raft.”

  The group paddled as the raft deflated. In minutes the raft was nothing more than a rumpled pile of vinyl along the shoreline. A big hole had been torn in the side from one of the rocks they’d bumped into on the rapids.

  “At least we’re all safe,” Jessie said.

  “Yeah, but Maggie got away.” Benny sounded glum.

  The four of them looked up the river. There was no sign of Maggie or her red kayak. Benny was right. Wherever she was going, she would be getting there long before them, with plenty of time to escape.

  They’d had an awesome adventure, but the mystery of the white-water bandit would go unsolved.

  THE END

  TO FOLLOW A DIFFERENT PATH, GO TO PAGE 97.

  AROUND THE BEND

  “We’ll have to let her go, then,” Henry said. “It’s more important that we’re all safe. We can’t get to the bottom of any mysteries if we don’t make it through the rapids.”

  “Good call,” Liz said. She signaled, and they paddled left to keep the raft on the main river, leaving the dangerous Rockslide Creek behind. The group would have to find another way to figure out what Maggie was up to.

  The river on the bend was level enough that Henry could take a break from paddling to look at the map. Even though it was outdated, it seemed to be coming in handy for their mystery.

  “If this map is right, this part of the river curves around. It will meet up with Rockslide Creek on the other side,” he said. “And guess what else? That’s exactly where the hiking trail to the mountain shelter begins.”

  “That must be where Maggie’s headed with Christopher Francis’s journal,” Violet said.

  “We have to catch up to her,” said Henry. He put the map away. “Let’s paddle!”

  They made good time on the bend of the river. It was a longer route, with a few rapids, but mostly the water was smooth, and they could focus on paddling.

  When they came to the place where Rockslide Creek poured back into the main river, Violet gasped. On the left bank up ahead was the red kayak. It lay on its side, not quite out of the water. Water was sloshing up against it.

  On the right side of the river, Henry noticed a single wooden docking post. “That’s where the hiking trail to the mountain shelter is,” he said.

  “But where’s Maggie?” Jessie asked. “Her kayak is tipped over on the wrong side of the river. What if she’s in trouble?”

  “I don’t see her,” said Henry. “Maybe she left her kayak there to throw us off her trail? If she already headed up the trail, she could get to the shelter first.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Benny said, wringing his hands. “What should we do?”

  IF THE ALDENS STOP TO CHECK OUT THE KAYAK, GO TO PAGE 106.

  IF THE ALDENS GO UP THE MOUNTAIN, GO TO PAGE 110.

  HELPING HAND

  “Maggie loves that kayak,” Liz said. “I don’t think she would let it drift around like that just to fool someone.”

  “Let’s go and make sure she’s all right,” Henry said.

  When the group got closer, they could see a figure lying in the grass on the shoreline. It was Maggie. She was breathing heavily, catching her breath.

  “Are you all right?” Henry asked. They pulled up the raft and ran to her.

  Maggie looked startled to see them at first but then seemed relieved. “Yes, I’m fine. Just took a dunk in the river and scratched my arm on a rock. Those rapids are tough this time of year!”

  Maggie sat up and looked at them kindly. “I appreciate you stopping, but what are you all doing here? I would have thought you’d still be eating breakfast at this time, not out on the river.”

  The children looked at Maggie. She didn’t seem to know anything about their ruined campsite or their missing journal or that they had been following her down the river.

  “You mean you weren’t running away from us?” Benny asked.

  “Running away? Why would I do a thing like that?” Maggie asked with a funny smile.

  “Someone took a journal I found,” Violet said.

  “You mean Fred’s old journal?” Maggie asked. She explained, “I heard you all talking about that at the dock back in White-River Falls, and I meant to ask you about it. But why would I take it?”

  “To find the way to the mountain shelter!” Benny said. Then he covered his mouth. “Oops.”

  Maggie laughed this time. “It’s all right, little one,” she said. “I already knew about the mountain shelter too. Or should I say, Mt. St. Heler. Which, by the way, gave me quite a chuckle back at The Slippery Salmon.”

  “But how were you able to figure it all out?” Liz asked.

  Maggie gave a mysterious smile.

  “Oh, you know what I’ve always said. Fred was very clever,” she said.

  “You knew him?” Violet asked. Then her eyes widened. There had been something familiar about Maggie that she couldn’t put her finger on until now. “You were the woman in the interview that we saw back at the museum.”

  “Oh, yes. That was me. I worked at the rafting company when he was living in Hemlock,” Maggie replied.

  “Why didn’t you ever say so?” Liz cried.

  “You didn’t ask,” Maggie said. “He taught me how to kayak. Back then I didn’t know anything about the river. Now I spend a lot of my time out here, hoping one day I’ll find out where he went off to. Daydreaming, mostly,” she added wistfully.

  “But if you didn’t take the journal, then that means someone else did,” Henry said. He took out the old map from his pocket and looked across the river. It was definitely the place where the hiking trail to the mountain shelter began. “And if they’ve been able to figure out the secret behind the clue, they might be on their way up to the shelter right now. We should go.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Jessie asked. Liz helped Maggie to her feet.

  “Yes. I just need some rest,” said Maggie. She took a look at the map Henry was holding. “That’s the right place, all right. But you should know that the mountain has changed since that map was made. The rockslide took out the path to the top.”

  Maggie took the map and pointed.

  “Right about here is another trail. Take that one—it will get you up to the shelter safely,” she said.

  Henry nodded and tucked the map back into his pocket.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Now, let’s find the real white-water bandit.”

  CONTINUE TO PAGE 114

  ROCKSLIDE MOUNTAIN

  “There’s not much time,” Henry said. “Liz, will you see if Maggie’s on the left riverbank? The four of us will go up the trail. That way if Maggie needs help, you’ll be there. But if she’s already gone up the mountain, we might have a chance to catch up with her.”

  Liz glanced up the trail and hesitated. Then she nodded. “All right, but I’ll be right behind you if I don’t find Maggie.”

  They got the raft over to the dock pole, and the four Aldens climbed out.

  “Be careful,” she said. “That map you have is old. Who knows what you might run across!”

  “We’ll be careful,” Jessie said.

  The children left Liz as she paddled the raft back across the river to where Maggie’s kayak was. The trail up the mountain was overgrown with trees and shrubs, but they could still make it out with the help of Henry’s old map.

  Steadily the trail weaved its way up the slope. While it was a hard climb, Henry felt like the trail was leading them along the easiest way up.

  “We’re almost there,” he called back to the others.

  But when he turned around, he skidded to a stop. The trail had ended. In its place was a steep drop. Below they could see the boulders and rocks that gave Rockslide Creek its name.

  “This wasn’t on the map,” Henry said.

  “The rockslide must have wiped out the old trail,” said Jessie.

  “We can’t go any farther,” Violet said. “Let’s turn back.”

  The Aldens doubled back and took another trail, then another. Each one they took seemed more and more overgrown. Until eventually Violet pointed through the trees. There was a building ahead, hidden among the hemlocks and cedars.

  “The mountain shelter!” Benny said.

  The children ran up the trail to the shelter, which was like a small cabin. Inside there was a single room with just enough furniture for one person to live comfortably.

  Violet looked at the desk that sat in the corner under a window. One of the drawers was open, but nothing was inside.

  “I think someone was just—” she started to say, but she was interrupted by a rumbling motor from behind the cabin.

  The Aldens hurried outside just in time to see a cloud of dirt kick up behind a blue truck. On the side of the truck, the Aldens made out the words Bandit River Tours.

  “Jonny!” Benny cried.

  Jessie let out a groan. “So he’s the one who stole the journal. He must have been following us down the river in his truck,” she said.

  The Aldens stood outside the empty mountain shelter as the dust from the Bandit River Tours truck settled. Benny gave a big sigh.

  “I guess that’s the end of that,” Henry said. “We found where Christopher Francis went after he escaped. But if he left anything in the cabin, it’s gone for good now.”

  THE END

  TO FOLLOW ANOTHER PATH, GO TO PAGE 105.

  THE MOUNTAIN SHELTER

  “I wonder what we’ll find in the mountain shelter,” Benny wondered aloud as they hiked. “Money? Another clue?”

  “It’s so out of the way,” Jessie said. “It was probably the perfect hideaway.”

  “Here’s where Maggie said we should turn off the path to go around the rockslide,” Henry said, looking at the map. The Aldens left the main trail and hiked into the woods.

  Maggie’s directions were good. Even though the brush was thick, after a few minutes, the children had made it through. Ahead they could see the shape of a building through the trees. It was an old cabin, much sturdier looking than the forest shelter. Inside they found a table, two chairs, one bunk, and a desk.

  “Look at this,” Violet said as she inspected the desk. There was an envelope. The four children gathered around.

  “Should we open it?” Benny asked. “You’re not supposed to open other peoples’ mail.”

  “That’s true, but I think this was left for us,” Jessie said. “Or maybe not us, specifically, but the people who found it. Look what it says on the envelope.”

  “‘To any whose path brings them here,’” Violet read out loud. “That’s us, I guess!”

  “Give it a read,” Henry suggested.

  Violet took out the letter and unfolded it. She read it slowly, so they could all hear.

  To any whose path brings them here:

  You have probably arrived here after following the legend of Fred Feriston. I regret to inform you that you will not find any money here. However, I hope that as his friend I can offer a greater reward: the truth.

  Several years ago I was badly injured while working at the White-River Sawmill. Despite this, the owners of the sawmill refused to make changes to how the sawmill was run. In fact, they did the opposite; they fired me and made it so I couldn’t work in Hemlock or White-River Falls again. With my injury I found it difficult to travel elsewhere, and so I ended up in a very bad predicament.

  That’s when I met Christopher, or as you have probably come to know him, Fred. He had worked in the lumbermill for a short time. But when he saw what had happened to me, he decided he could no longer work for the company. He quit, and knowing I had nowhere else to go, he brought me here to stay while I recovered.

  Christopher came to visit me, and we talked about what the logging companies were doing. We imagined how great it would be if the wilderness wasn’t logged but allowed to grow and be managed properly—if people were friends to the forest. So we came up with a plan. As soon as I got better, we planned to get to work. But my recovery was slow.

  By that time, his name had become connected with mine, so he used a different name, Fred Feriston. He raised money, not for his grandmother, but for me. That was when things started to go wrong. People started to suspect that Fred was keeping the money. He became a wanted man, and he had to leave the area forever. But I moved forward with our work. When I had fully recovered, I used the money he had gathered to start Forest Friends, the organization that began right in this very cabin. And even though he is gone now, I hope that someday everyone will know the truth: that Fred Feriston was not a criminal but the first of many Forest Friends.

  Sincerely,

  James Green

  “I can’t believe this,” said a man’s voice from behind them. The children turned to see Jonny standing in the doorway. He had heard the whole letter.

  Jonny sighed and rubbed his forehead, sitting down heavily in one of the chairs at the table. As he did, he dropped something onto the table with a heavy thump. It was the journal Violet had found behind the waterfall.

  “The journal! You’re the one who took it,” Benny said.

  “Why?” asked Henry.

  “I’d heard rumors Fred had a journal like this, with all his secrets,” Jonny said. “When I learned that you children might have found it, I had to know what it said. But now that I know, I wish I hadn’t found out. This is going to be terrible for my business.”