“Great!” Trixie breathed, her eyes shining. “We’ll go home now. And if the Bob-Whites aren’t there—”
“We’ll call them and tell them to meet us at the Wheelers’ stable,” Brian finished for her. “We’ll explain everything to Regan. He’ll be glad we’re going to exercise the horses. Then we’ll form a posse and search for Reddy till we find him. How’s that, podner?”
He needn’t have asked. A moment later, his sister, her blond curls bouncing with excitement, had raced past him to the car.
By the time he reached the car, she was already seated inside it, waiting impatiently.
She watched him put the key in the ignition and sighed happily. “Now all we need to do,” she remarked, “is to find out what’s wrong with Mart.”
Brian didn’t answer until they were well on their way home. Trixie guessed that he was wondering if Mart was sick.
Brian was constantly concerned with the wellbeing of everyone. The Bob-Whites knew that one day, when Jim Frayne, who had inherited a fortune, opened his school for homeless boys, Brian hoped to become its doctor.
“I think,” Brian said at last, “the only thing wrong with Mart is that he’s tired. He’s got a history test coming up at school, he’s worried about that journalism class he’s taking this semester, and he was out late last night.”
Trixie was surprised. “He was? Where did he go?”
Brian shrugged. “I didn’t ask. Maybe he went to visit Di, or maybe he wanted to study with Jim.”
Trixie sat quietly, thinking over what Brian had told her. She was also pondering Mart’s recent behavior.
She frowned as she remembered how absent-minded he’d been lately. He forgot to pass on even the simplest of messages. Often he seemed to be lost in thoughts of his own. Strangest of all, he’d lost his appetite.
It was this that worried Trixie most of all. Mart had never before lost his appetite over anything. He was always hungry—or had been until a few days ago.
“You know what, Brian?” Trixie said at last. She stared with unseeing eyes at the familiar landscape flying past them. “I think Mart’s got something on his mind—something that’s worrying him a lot. He’s been so moody lately. And, Brian, he hasn’t even teased me!”
Brian grinned and steered the jalopy expertly into the Beldens’ driveway. “If it’s teasing you’re missing—” he began.
Suddenly Trixie was clutching at his arm again. “They’re here!” she cried, pointing at the shiny station wagon parked outside their front door. “The Bob-Whites are here! Quick! Let’s hurry!“
“For crying out loud!” Brian exclaimed, slamming on the brakes. “Quit grabbing the driver!” But his sister was already out of her seat and racing to join their friends, who were smiling and waving at them through the big car’s windows.
Usually the mere sight of the station wagon was enough to make Trixie glow with pride. This was because she owned exactly a one-seventh share of it. When Mr. Wheeler had bought himself a new car, he had given the station wagon to Trixie and her friends. Now, on one door panel, neat red letters spelled out bob-whites OF THE glen. The Bob-Whites were almost as proud of their car as they were of their club.
This morning, however, Trixie spared it barely a glance as she smiled back at its four occupants.
The car’s driver, Jim Frayne, stuck his red head out of the open window. “Hey, where were you?” he asked, grinning up at her. “We thought you’d got lost. We’ve been waiting here for hours.” Honey Wheeler, seated beside him, laughed and tossed back her long golden hair. “Don’t listen to him, Trix,” she said, her wide hazel eyes twinkling. “We’ve only just got here, and Jim only honked twice. Are you all set to go?”
Seated behind them, Di and Dan leaned forward eagerly.
“Yes, hurry up, Trixie,” Di urged. “We’ve got a surprise for you, and we can’t wait for you to see it.”
“Not only that,” Dan Mangan added, grinning. “We had to drive miles this morning to get it.“
“And we didn’t even open it,” Jim said, “so the honors are all yours, Trix.”
Trixie stared at them, puzzled. They had all been talking so fast that she hadn’t had a chance to ask any of them if they’d seen the missing dog. Besides, she hadn’t the slightest clue to what they were all talking about.
She could tell, though, that they were feeling pleased with themselves about something. They were gazing at her expectantly, as if they were waiting for her to break suddenly into a song of joy.
“The only surprise Trixie needs right now,” Brian announced, joining her at the side of the car, “is for someone to find Reddy. He’s missing, and Miss Worry wart here thinks something’s happened to him.”
Honey looked instantly concerned. “I’ll help you search, Trix,” she offered at once.
Jim was frowning. “That’s strange,” he said deliberately. “I wasn’t able to find Patch this morning, either.”
Di chuckled. “That’s because both dogs are over at my place.”
Trixie could hardly believe her ears. She stared and couldn’t think of a thing to say.
Di looked as if she knew that she had truly astonished and pleased her friend with her news. She chuckled again at the expression on Trixie’s face.
Trixie found her voice at last. “Is that the surprise?” she asked, recovering from her amazement.
“No,” Di said, shaking her head, and her long blue black hair swung gently as it framed her pretty face. “No, Trix, that’s not the surprise. We didn’t even know you were missing a dog.”
“But I am—I mean, I was—I mean, oh, Di! Are you sure Reddy’s over at your place?” Trixie felt so relieved, her tongue wouldn’t work properly.
Brian chuckled. “She’s trying to tell you she thought she’d nosed out another mystery,” he said. “Let’s see, we could have called it the secret of the Irish setter—”
“—and Jim’s playful spaniel pup,” Honey finished, smiling at him.
Trixie didn’t mind that they were teasing her. The hard knot of worry, which had seemed to lie like a rock in the pit of her stomach, disappeared as if by magic.
“Do you feel better now?” Brian asked.
Trixie’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, boy! Do I!”
So Reddy wasn’t missing after all. He had just been playing with Jim’s puppy, Patch, at the Lynches’ big house, which stood on the highest hill beside the river. It was true that Trixie hadn’t searched the Lynch grounds. She hadn’t had enough time.
She couldn’t help wondering what Mart was going to say when he heard the news. Probably he’d say, “I told you so.” Not that she was going to worry about it. She had already done enough worrying for one day!
All at once, the whole world seemed brighter. She became aware of the soft sounds around her. It was almost as if, until this moment, she had been deaf.
She could hear the smooth purring of the car’s powerful engine as it idled patiently beneath the sleek hood. She could hear the birds singing and leaves rustling as a cool breeze played tag in the old crab apple trees. It was sure going to be a beautiful day. The Bob-Whites wouldn’t have to form a posse, and they could help out at Sleepy-side’s junior-senior high school after all.
“I’m glad that I was wrong,” Trixie told Brian happily.
“To tell you the truth, I am, too, Trix,” he answered. “I don’t want to lose that rascal of ours any more than you do.”
Honey leaned across her brother and gazed up through the car window at Trixie. “I guess you were really worried about Reddy,” she said.
“I sure was,” Trixie answered. “You see, he was acting so funny last night.”
“Did it seem as if he’d heard someone—or something-calling him?” Jim asked suddenly.
Trixie felt a shock of surprise. “That’s exactly how he looked, Jim. How did you know?”
Jim stared at the backs of his freckled hands as they rested easily on the steering wheel. “Because that’s the way I saw Patch acting
last night, too. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”
All at once, Trixie’s fears returned in a rush. Who—or what—had attracted the dogs’ attention? Had there been an intruder there, after all? Or had it been something else?
Excitement at School ● 3
IN THE NEXT INSTANT, Trixie could tell that Brian was now feeling as uneasy as she was.
“Listen, Trix,” he said awkwardly, “you may have been wrong about Reddy’s disappearance, but maybe you were right when you thought he’d spotted something last night. I guess I’d better check around before we leave.”
“I’ll help, Brian,” Jim offered quickly. “I don’t like the sound of this any more than you do.”
Dan grunted. “Let’s all go.”
“Yes, let’s,” Honey agreed quickly, clambering out of the car.
“And we’ll leave Trixie’s surprise till we get back,” Di added, her violet eyes sparkling.
But Trixie was no longer even thinking about surprises. She was already off and running toward that corner of the house where she had last seen their Irish setter.
When Honey caught up with her, Trixie was standing by the picnic table, staring up the hill toward the Lynch mansion.
“Did you find something?” Honey asked.
Trixie shook her head. “Not yet, Honey,” she answered.
She was still puzzled fifteen minutes later, when the six Bob-Whites met once more in the cozy living room of the old farmhouse.
“No clues, no nothing,” Trixie announced.
“We didn’t find much, either,” Brian confessed.
“Only an old cardboard carton,” Jim added, “and that didn’t tell us anything. It was lying by the side of the road. It fell off someone’s truck, I guess. I’ll clear it away later.” The Bob-Whites stared at each other.
“In any case,” Brian said at last, “I’m going to make sure everything’s locked up tight here while we’re away.”
“Including the chickens?” Di asked, quickly smothering a grin.
Trixie frowned. “Chickens?”
“Di means that Mart forgot and left the gate to the chicken run open,” Jim explained.
“He’s almost rounded them up,” Dan said, “but I guess it’s going to take him a while longer to get all of them. You want me to help you get everything locked up here, Brian?”
Brian sighed. “No, thanks, I’ll do it. But I’d better give Mart a hand. For crying out loud, how could he have been dumb enough to let those chickens out?”
“See what I mean, Brian?” Trixie said slowly. “Mart’s so busy worrying about something that he’s just not paying attention to anything.”
Brian moved toward the front door. “Why don’t you guys go on to school? Mart and I will follow as soon as we can.”
“But don’t you want to see Trixie’s surprise?” Di called after him.
Brian paused, then groaned and ran his hand through his dark, wavy hair. “Don’t talk to me about surprises,” he said. “I’ve had enough surprises this morning to last me a lifetime.”
No one said anything until Jim had backed the big station wagon out of the driveway and had headed its nose in the direction of Sleepyside’s junior-senior high school.
Then Honey said softly to Trixie, who was sitting beside her, “Is something wrong with Mart? What is it he’s worrying about?”
“I don’t know,” Trixie whispered back. “But you can count on one thing, Honey. I’m going to do my best to find out—and soon!”
While the car purred quietly along the road to Sleepyside, Trixie told the remaining Bob-Whites all about her unsuccessful search that morning for Reddy.
When she had come to the end of her story, Di said suddenly, “Oh, Trix, please stop talking about missing pets. Let’s talk about what we’ve got for you, instead. I can’t wait any longer!”
Trixie turned in her seat and smiled at her friend Di. “I’m sorry, Di,” she said. “I guess I almost forgot about that. What is the surprise?”
Di bent down and picked up something from the floor. The long curtain of dark hair that framed her lovely face swung forward, then was tossed back out of the way as she held whatever it was behind her back. “Here it is,” she sang out. “Ta-dah!” And in the next moment, she was handing Trixie a small, neatly folded newspaper.
Trixie’s cheeks flamed with excitement as she took it. “Jeepers!” she exclaimed. “Where in the world did you manage to find it? I’d never have believed it’d be so hard to find a copy of a dumb old school newspaper. But they were all gone when I tried to get one yesterday. And even Mart forgot to bring one home. The Campus Clarion sure is popular lately. Is the article Mart wrote for his journalism class in there? Have you read it? Is it good? Which one of our mysteries did he write about?”
Her friends laughed as Trixie finally ran out of breath. She could tell, though, that they were feeling as pleased as she was.
They all knew that Mart was taking a semester of journalism. They also knew he had been strangely silent about his new experiences as a student reporter for the school newspaper. But he had told them how hard he’d worked on an article for this week’s issue.
“Wait till you read it,” he’d told the Bob-Whites the previous week. “I wrote about all of us. We’re all there.”
Trixie had frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she’d said. “We don’t want everyone to know about the Bob-Whites. What are you writing about? One of our mysteries?”
“Wait and you will see,” Mart had answered mysteriously.
Honey’s voice broke into Trixie’s thoughts. “We borrowed the newspaper from a girl in one of Di’s classes,” she was saying eagerly. “We phoned everyone we could think of, first thing early this morning. We were lucky to find one.”
“You see,” Dan put in, “we knew how disappointed you were when you couldn’t get a copy.“
“Then we all drove for miles to pick it up,” Honey said.
Trixie smiled. “So that’s why you and Jim weren’t at home when I came over this morning.“
“You’re right,” Honey said, smiling. “And we don’t know which mystery Mart wrote about, because we didn’t look.”
“We thought you’d like to do it yourself,” Di said. “Oh, please open it, Trix. I’m simply dying to see. Maybe Mart’s article made the front page. Wouldn’t that be neat?”
There was silence as Trixie slowly unfolded the newspaper. Honey leaned close to her side, and Di and Dan crowded close to look over her shoulder.
It took only a second to see that Mart’s article had not made the front page—nor the second or third. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, Trixie turned to the fourth, fifth, and sixth (and last) page.
When she had finished, she and Honey stared at each other in disappointment. Mart’s article wasn’t there.
“Well?” Jim demanded. “Why the dead silence? Which mystery did Mart write about?”
“We still don’t know,” Trixie said slowly. “They didn’t publish it.”
Honey squeezed her arm. “Never mind, Trix,” she said as her brother drove into the school parking lot. “Maybe they simply didn’t have room for it this week.”
“And maybe,” Di said suddenly, “that’s what’s been bothering Mart all along. Perhaps he’s as disappointed as we are.”
They had climbed out of the station wagon and were still standing by its side when Brian’s familiar jalopy suddenly appeared. It swung into the parking space beside them.
“Boy, that was fast,” Dan said admiringly. “Did you catch all the chickens?”
“Of course,” Mart said, frowning. “I’d already caught ’em when Brian came to help me. You should’ve waited. I’ve just finished telling Brian so.”
Brian chuckled. “I’ve had a lecture about it all the way here.” He glanced quickly at the newspaper in Trixie’s hand. “Hey, was that the surprise? Is your article there, Mart?”
“No,” Mart answered hurriedly. “The journalis
m teacher turned it down flat.”
“You could’ve at least told us, Mart,” Trixie said reproachfully.
Mart was suddenly on the defensive. “For crying out loud!” he exclaimed. “How was I supposed to know you’d make such a big fuss over a dumb school assignment? It’s no big deal, I tell you. Mr. Zimmerman just didn’t like it. That’s all! Forget that I even mentioned it.”
Tactfully, Jim tried to change the subject. He nodded toward the cars that were crowded around them. “It sure looks like a lot of kids showed up this morning,” he said.
Dan grinned. “Maybe someone,” he nodded toward Trixie, “didn’t have to volunteer our services today, after all.”
Trixie didn’t answer until the Bob-Whites were halfway across the lunch court. “There may be a lot of volunteers,” she said, “but no one seems to be volunteering much energy.” She pointed at the overflowing trash cans. “I wonder why someone hasn’t thought of emptying those. Where is everyone, anyway?”
Puzzled, the Bob-Whites stared around them. The day before, many students had taken advantage of the unseasonably warm weather to eat outdoors, and the lunch court was still littered with the debris of the previous day’s lunch period. The court was deserted, however; no one seemed interested in cleaning up the area.
Suddenly, Honey gripped Trixie’s arm. “I think something’s going on in front of the administration office,” she exclaimed.
“You’re right,” Jim answered, breaking into a run. “Come on, you guys! Maybe the office is passing out free doughnuts or something.”
But in another moment, when the Bob-Whites turned the corner, they found that Jim couldn’t have been more wrong.
A crowd of excited students was gathered in front of the school’s office. Outside the door, Mr. Stratton, the principal, appeared to be deep in conversation with two of his teachers, who suddenly turned and hurried away.
“What is it?” Honey asked. “What’s going on?” Trixie stared at the broken window that gaped blackly against the school’s dim interior. “I think someone’s thrown a baseball—” she began.
The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder Page 2
