The Black Heart Crypt

Zack was still in bed but already wide awake when Judy came down to the basement at seven a.m.

“I sent Mrs. Emerson an email last night, after you guys went to bed,” she said. “I asked her if she knew anything about this Jack the Lantern.”

“What’d she find out?”

“Seems he was a notorious highwayman.”

“Is that a toll collector or something?”

“No. A highwayman, back in olden days, was a thief who preyed on travelers. They’d attack stagecoaches or mail wagons. Some were like Robin Hood. They stole from the rich and gave to the poor.”

“And Jack the Lantern?”

“Very un–Robin Hoodish. He dressed all in black and always wore a terrifying burlap mask with holes to make him look like a jack-o’-lantern.”

“Is that how he got his name? Jack the Lantern?”

“Partially. He also used to toss firebombs in front of carriages to spook the horses so he could stop a coach, slay the driver, steal the passengers’ gold, and snatch baubles off the ladies.”

Judy hesitated.

Zack knew that whatever she said next wasn’t going to be good.

“Then he’d kidnap any children.”

Zack’s mouth went dry. “Why?”

“Well, if the families were wealthy, he’d ransom them back.”

“And if they weren’t so rich?”

“He’d sell the children as slave labor to factory owners and ship captains.”

“And nobody knew Jack was really Barnabas Ickleby?”

“Nope. He fooled everybody for nearly three hundred years.”

Suddenly, a horse whinnied out on the front lawn.

That was very bizarre.

Nobody in the neighborhood had a horse.