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    The Case of the Bent Spoke: A Poplar Cove Myster
    The Case of the Bent Spoke: A Poplar Cove Myster
    The Case of the Bent Spoke: A Poplar Cove Myster
    Ebook110 pages1 hour

    The Case of the Bent Spoke: A Poplar Cove Myster

    By Patricia Canterbury

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    About this ebook

    Introducing readers to the little known name of Marshall "Major" Taylor, the world's first African American cycling champion. Canterbury weaves a wild and suspenseful tale full of atmosphere and historical details that transports the reader to another time and place in history. Sonja Hazzard, author of "Motley Tales."
    The boys of Poplar Cove, a small "colored" town on the edge of Northern California's western coast are excited to show off their bicycle skills before the World Famous Major Taylor, who is visiting their town on the way to a bicycle exhibition in Japan. Can they have their race before someone tries to prevent Major Taylor from judging their event?
    When legendary racing cyclist Major Taylor comes to Poplar Cove, danger follows him. Taylor wants to spend a few days fishing before attending a cycling expedition in Japan, but someone is planning to prevent the famous cyclist from competing in that country.To honor Taylor, the small community of Poplar Cove organizes a bicycle race of their own.
    While people from neighboring towns come to join in the race, others came scheming to do harm to Taylor. Their efforts are foiled by the brave actions of the town's young boys who are drawn into action and expose the criminal. This story is set in the 1930s in an imaginary colored town below Eureka. It is the third of a popular series about the adventures of the children who live there.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPegasus Books
    Release dateJun 26, 2018
    ISBN9780463136737
    The Case of the Bent Spoke: A Poplar Cove Myster
    Author

    Patricia Canterbury

    Patricia (Pat) Canterbury is a native Sacramentan, world traveler, and political scientist. She has written numerous novels for children, mid-grade readers and adults. The Secret of Morton’s End is the second of her Poplar Cove Mysteries. She can be reached at patmyst@aol.com or Her website www.patmyst.com

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      Book preview

      The Case of the Bent Spoke - Patricia Canterbury

      THE CASE OF THE BENT SPOKE

      A Poplar Cove Mystery

      by

      Patricia Canterburty

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      * * * * *

      Pegasus Pony/Patricia Canterbury on Smashwords

      The Case of the Bent Spoke

      Copyright © 2018 by Patricia Canterbury

      All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

      Smashwords License Notes

      This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

      ISBN - 978-0-463136-7-37

      Comments about Draugar The Case of the Bent Spoke and requests for additional copies, book club rates and author speaking appearances may be addressed to Patricia Canterbury or Pegasus Pony, c/o Marcus McGee, or you can send your comments and requests via e-mail to patmyst@aol.com.

      Dedicated to my youngest nephews

      Leonardo Velasquez,

      Ethan Rasberry,

      Aiden Rasberry and

      Owen Rasberry

      ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

      Thanks to the late Connie Gipson, who first introduced me to the achievements of Major Taylor.

      To Sherri Kirk, attorney extraordinaire, who gave me research on Major Taylor’s life.

      To Nedra, Sacramento Reference librarian, for her assistance in weather information from 1928.

      To Shirleigh Brannon, from the Department of Transportation Reference Library in Sacramento, for her information on road and highway conditions in the late 1920s.

      To David of the Jenner, California Historical Society, for his information about the town.

      To my husband, Richard, for his continuing support of all of my writing efforts and for his thoughts on various rewrites of this novel.

      To Christopher Chaney, Christopher Colcleasure, Tyler Vaum and Charles Washington, now adults, who as pre-teens, gave me their memories from boyhood as they critiqued the first draft of this book.

      And finally, to my weekly critique group: the late Maggie Anderson, Ethel Mack Ballard, Jacqueline Turner Banks, Janie Bess, Juanita Carr, Geri Spencer Hunter, Shakiri and Kim Wiley, for their suggestions, comments and prodding in fashioning this final product.

      THE CASE OF THE BENT SPOKE

      By Patricia E. Canterbury

      Chapter One

      The fall of 1928 was unbearably hot along the northwestern coast of California. Twelve-year-old good friends and classmates, Bobby Joe Allen and Eli Shaw III, or Three (as family and townspeople call him), raced each other down the Old Mill Road at the south end of Poplar Cove, the most densely-populated Colored town in the Tri-Cove area. The other towns, Grant’s Cove and Marshall Cove, were within twenty-five miles of each other off backcountry dirt roads. All three could also be reached via the Legislative Route 56’s dangerous, windy western shore, but the various merchants, townspeople and especially the children prefered the less scenic and quicker back roads. The Old Mill Road was one of more scenic of the non-ocean view back roads.

      The dust kicked up by the boys’ bicycle wheels flew up into their sweaty faces and parched throats, choking and momentarily blinding them as they laughed and raced each other, darting among potholes, an occasional startled deer, and a few loose rocks that had fallen from the hills nearby. The stagnant air was hot and humid, even under the giant redwoods and black oaks that lined the road.

      Their matching bicycles were scarred and scratched from years of wear and tear, sea air and the general forgetfulness of young boys with many things on their minds, so wiping off and putting away bicycles were not always foremost in their thinking. Both bicycles sported a worn leather saddle, where repair tools shared space with homemade sandwiches and warm bottles of Moxie soda, which was the current craze sweeping the nation, finally arriving in Poplar Cove. While both families had the means to purchase new bikes for the boys, the parents chose to spend money on repair of their farms and feed for the livestock.

      Three’s front tire hit a pine cone hidden in one of the deep ruts that littered Old Mill Road, sending him over the handlebars and landing at the base of one of the towering redwood trees.

      You okay? Bobby Joe asked as he jumped off his bike and rushed over to help Three to his feet.

      Yeah, I’m fine, Three coughed through the settling dust, embarrassed by his lack of concentration. Oh, look… I’ve bent the front wheel.

      Never one to ask for help when it came to the repair of mechanical things, Three opened the small, leather saddle, filled with wrenches, screws, bolts and miscellaneous wires. He looked at the empty soda bottle, instantly regretting that he’d drunk the last of the soda an hour earlier. Sweat ran down his face and his thin cotton shirt stuck to his small, sweaty frame.

      Not to be outdone, Bobby Joe opened his saddle also.

      Here, I think this wrench will work better than the little one you have.

      Bobby Joe handed Three a medium-sized wrench. Three wiped blood and sweat from his cheek with his dirty left hand. He was bleeding from a place on his face that he’d scraped when he landed on some redwood bark on the road. Neither boy spoke as they fine-tuned the spokes and adjusted the wheel.

      Only after the bike was back in riding shape did Three check his left arm and knees for additional scrapes. None of the scratches were as deep as those on his cheek. He wiped the blood off with his handkerchief, and wetting the cloth with spit, he cleaned the wounds. His left eye throbbed, but he could see well enough to continue the ride. He patted himself down and jumped up and down a few times.

      I don’t think that I have any broken bones, he said to Bobby Joe as he got back on the bike. Three rode around Bobby Joe a few times, testing the front wheel. The scratches on his knees were just below the pant’s rolled-up cuff, thereby eliminating any unnecessary point of contact with the open wounds. The moist warm air felt good on the rapidly-drying blood. Satisfied that he could ride without damaging the wheel or himself, he rode ahead of Bobby Joe.

      Look at those clouds. I think that we may have a storm before night, Three said, squinting up and towards the west. He could just make out the horizon, where the Pacific Ocean stretched as far as possible. Thunderstorms had been threatening all day.

      BOOM!

      Did you hear that? It sounded like thunder. Maybe you’re right. We just might get rain later today, Bobby Joe said as he got on his bike and caught up to Three. They began to peddle quickly down the road toward the Shaw’s farm.

      Grandpa Eli will be able to tell us. He always knows when it’s going to rain. Let’s go.

      I don’t think it will rain. It’s been making noises for days, Bobby Joe shouted, above the noise the bicycles’ wheels made as they crushed leaves and pine cones that littered the narrow two-lane street at the southern edge of Poplar Cove. Let’s go over to Marshall Cove and see if Mike Trent wants to race to Grant’s Cove. The warm wind had picked up and pine cones were raining down on the boys and the road.

      *****

      Hello, Mr. Shaw. Me and Three are going to ride over to Marshall Cove, Bobby Joe said as he got off his bicycle and leaned it against a branch of one of the Monterey pines that lined the path

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