But Brian was shaking his head. “It’s more than a broken window, Trixie,” he said, pointing. “Take a look at that!”
Trixie gasped as she gazed at the face of the building. Scrawled across it, in huge spray-painted black letters, were the words:
THE MIDNIGHT MARAUDER WAS HERE!
She heard one of the students say, “And that’s not all! Mr. Stratton says this Midnight Marauder broke into the office and stole a load of cash!”
“But who is the Midnight Marauder?” someone else asked.
A sudden movement beside her made Trixie turn her head sharply. She was just in time to see Mart stiffen and stand as if frozen to the spot. He was staring up at the black painted letters—and his face was white to the lips.
Mart in Trouble ● 4
BEFORE TRIXIE had time to ask Mart what was wrong, Mr. Stratton had turned to face the crowd and was holding up his hand for silence.
“Students,” he began, “I know you’re all just as shocked as I am by what has happened.”
There was a murmur of agreement from his listeners.
“As you can see,” Mr. Stratton continued, “a vandal has broken into the school.” His lips tightened. “Extensive damage has been done to my office, and a sum of money has been stolen from my desk.”
“How much money, Mr. Stratton?” someone in the crowd of students called out.
The principal sighed. “As far as we can figure it at the moment,” he said, “there wasn’t that much money to steal. Only about ten dollars was taken, we think.”
Dan thrust his hands angrily into the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t care if it’s ten dollars or ten thousand dollars,” he said in an undertone to Trixie. “The school should send for the police at once.”
“I’m sure they have,” Trixie whispered back. “I’ll bet they called as soon as they found out what had happened. But who could’ve done something like this?”
It was almost as if Mr. Stratton had heard her. “We haven’t yet found out who’s responsible,” he said grimly, “but you can be sure there’s going to be an extensive investigation. Of course, the police have been called—”
“I knew it,” Trixie remarked, nodding her head in approval.
“But in the meantime,” Mr. Stratton continued, “if anyone here can shed any light on what’s happened, I’ll be in my office.”
To Trixie’s astonishmeht, she felt Mart move from her side, as if involuntarily. He took a step forward, and half raised his hand, almost as if he were going to say something. Then, in a moment, his hand dropped to his side, and he remained silent.
Puzzled, Trixie frowned.
Mr. Stratton hesitated, half turned away, then turned back to face the students once more. “I want to thank all of you for showing up this morning,” he added. “Please stay away from the area where I’m standing. The police will want to examine it. But if you still feel like continuing with the cleanup job on the rest of the grounds, your help will be appreciated.”
The students watched in silence as the door of the administration building closed behind him. Then they began to wander away, talking in undertones to each other.
“So that’s that,” Brian said. “What a rotten thing to happen.”
“But now we’re here,” Jim said, “what d’you say we get to work?”
Honey sighed. “You’re right, Jim. How about starting on the lunch court?”
Mart stared thoughtfully toward a group of his classmates who, armed with brooms and rakes, were beginning to clear the grassy area close to the school bus stop.
“Listen,” he said suddenly, “can you guys manage without me for a few minutes? I need to talk to someone over there.” Without waiting for an answer, Mart hurried away.
A moment later, Trixie saw him talking earnestly to a tall, dark-haired boy who didn’t seem to like what Mart was saying. Trixie saw the boy scowl and shake his head.
“Who is that?” Di said in her ear.
“I was just wondering the same thing,” Trixie answered slowly, still watching the two boys.
“His name is Lester Mundy,” Dan said shortly. “I think the kid’s in Mart’s math class.”
Trixie looked at him. “It doesn’t sound as if you like him much.”
“He’s the class clown,” Brian explained. “He’s also a renowned practical joker.”
“Like Ben Riker?” Trixie asked, then wished she hadn’t. She glanced quickly at Honey to see if she had been listening.
Honey had. She laughed and squeezed Trixie’s arm. “No one’s as good a practical joker as Ben Riker, Trix,” she said, “though sometimes I think Lester comes pretty close.”
Trixie sighed as she remembered Honey’s cousin. She had never thought Ben Riker’s practical jokes were funny. Ben did dumb things like putting sugar into salt shakers and salt into sugar bowls.
Once, during one of the Bob-White’s early adventures, Trixie had pretended to like Ben a lot, even though everyone knew she liked Jim best.
Trixie could feel her face growing hot just thinking about it. “If Lester’s jokes are anything like Ben’s,” she said hurriedly, “then I hope Mart knows what he’s doing.”
Jim chuckled as he led the way to the supply room. “I hope he does, too. If not, he’s likely to find a frog in his locker—”
“Or spiders in his gym shoes,” Brian added quickly, pulling open the door and ushering his friends inside.
Di gasped in horror and stared around at the room’s dark shelves. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand it was spiders. The Bob-Whites could still remember the time when her phony uncle had tried to frighten her with one.
“You—you don’t suppose Lester will try anything like that on us, do you?” Di said at last, her voice shaking.
“We’ll see that he doesn’t,” Brian promised, and handed her a broom.
Di looked at it carefully before she took it from him. Trixie could see that she was apprehensive.
“Maybe Lester does silly things to try and get attention,” kindhearted Honey said slowly. “Maybe he’s lonely.”
Dan grunted. “Then I’ve got news for him,” he said as he passed out large plastic trash bags to each of his friends. “He’s making a big mistake.”
“Maybe he is,” Honey answered, “but—oh, don’t you see? We Bob-Whites are never lonely. We’ve all got each other. But some of the kids at school always seem to be left out of everything. It’s as if no one knows they’re even alive. Take Ruthie Kettner, for instance.”
Di frowned. “Who’s Ruthie Kettner?”
Honey opened the supply room door wide so that the Bob-Whites had a clear view of the school’s main entrance.
A stockily built, fair-haired girl was standing alone by the front steps. “That’s Ruthie Kettner,” Honey said.
Trixie noticed that Ruthie was staring toward the cleanup crew by the bus stop, and at Mart and Lester who were still deep in conversation. It seemed almost as if Ruthie were as interested in what Mart was talking about as Trixie herself.
“I’ve never seen Ruthie talk to anyone,” Honey said thoughtfully. “I think the poor kid’s very shy.”
Honey’s huge hazel eyes clouded over, and she lowered her head so that her shoulder-length honey blond hair shaded her face. Trixie guessed that her friend was remembering the days before she’d come to live in Sleepyside, when she had been sent away to boarding schools and had been lonely, too.
“I’ll tell you what,” Trixie said. “We’ll ask Ruthie if she wants to help us in the lunch court this morning. How’s that?”
Honey raised her head and smiled. “I think that would be great.”
Dan grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll go and ask her. Don’t forget, before I joined the Bob-Whites, I knew what it was like to feel unwanted, too.” Before Dan could move, however, Trixie saw Mart suddenly leave Lester’s side and come racing across the grass.
“Ruthie?” he was yelling. “Hey, Ruthie? You got a minute? I want to talk to you.”
>
The Bob-Whites saw Ruthie’s face flush scarlet. She half turned, as if she were going to hurry away. Then she seemed to change her mind, and took a step toward him instead.
In another instant, the two of them were walking toward a bench under a tall maple tree, and Mart’s blond head was bent toward hers.
Trixie’s blue eyes widened with surprise. “Jeep-ers!” she exclaimed. “Mart must have known what we were going to do.”
“Or maybe,” Honey replied, giggling, “Ruthie’s been reading the advice to the lovelorn in the school newspaper. Last week Miss Lonelyheart told someone that to have a friend, you must be a friend.”
“Not very original,” Jim remarked as he led the way to the lunch court, “but very true.”
He smiled at Trixie over his shoulder, and everyone laughed. They knew that ever since their very first adventure together, Trixie could do no wrong as far as Jim was concerned.
“It beats me why that Miss Lonelyheart column is so popular,” Brian said. “Ever since it began appearing in the school newspaper several weeks ago, the kids have been doing nothing else but talk about it.”
“And grabbing all the copies they can get,” Trixie answered, remembering how she’d been unable to get even one copy the previous day.
She stared with unseeing eyes at an overflowing trash can.
“Does anyone know which teacher is writing it?” Honey asked.
“I think it’s one of the counselors,” Di said. “But I wonder which one.”
“Maybe Mart could tell us,” Dan suggested.
Trixie shook her head. “I don’t think so. He told me once that Mr. Zimmerman, the journalism teacher, is the only one who knows for sure, and he hasn’t said anything about it.”
“I wonder why not,” Dan mused.
Honey giggled. “Miss Lonelyheart’s probably afraid she’d be swamped with letters and phone calls at her home every day.”
“And her classroom would be crowded with problem kids wanting to ask her advice,” Trixie agreed.
“I know what I’d ask Miss Lonelyheart,” Brian said suddenly.
Honey’s face flushed. “Do you have troubles with a lonely heart, Brian?” she asked shyly.
Brian laughed. “Not in the way you mean, Honey. I’d merely ask her what to do with a certain brother who promised to help us clean up this morning, but who isn’t here. Where is Mart, anyway?”
Mart was still missing an hour later, when the rest of the Bob-Whites looked with satisfaction at the results of their handiwork.
They had worked hard. They were hot and tired, but the lunch court and its surrounding area were swept and free of debris.
“Okay,” Brian said at last. “I guess we’re all through here. Where to now?”
Di laughed and pushed her long hair back from her pretty, flushed face. “I vote we take a rest,” she answered promptly.
“Me, too,” Honey said.
Jim chuckled. “Me, three.”
Honey looked at Trixie who seemed to be deep in thought. “How about it, Trix?” Honey said.
“Do you want to take a break?”
“What I really want,” Trixie replied slowly, “is the answers to three questions.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “One: What did Reddy and Patch see last night? Two: Which teacher is Miss Lonelyheart?”
“And three?” Di asked, as Trixie hesitated.
“And three:” Trixie said thoughtfully, “Who is the Midnight Marauder?”
“Number three’s easy,” a voice said in her ear. Trixie turned sharply and found herself staring into the grinning face of Lester Mundy.
“Well?” Honey demanded. “Who is the Midnight Marauder?”
Lester sniggered. “The police arrested him not half an hour ago,” he said. “The Midnight Marauder is none other than Mart Belden!”
More Worries • 5
FOR A MOMENT, Trixie was so shocked that she couldn’t even move.
“I’ll bet that surprised you,” Lester said, “but it’s all true, every word.”
Trixie found her voice at last. “But it isn’t true!” she exclaimed hotly. “It can’t be! I don’t believe it! You’ve made a mistake!”
“Or else he’s trying to pull one of his practical jokes on us,” Brian said, clenching his fists.
“Yeah,” Jim agreed, “a very bad practical joke.”
“Hey, back off!” Lester cried in alarm as he stared at the circle of angry Bob-White faces. “It’s not my fault. I only came to give you the news, that’s all. Don’t get mad at me! Get mad at Sergeant Molinson. He’s the one who did the arresting. He’s taken Mart downtown for questioning. I just thought you ought to know.”
There was a stunned silence as the Bob-Whites stared at each other.
To Trixie, it was as if she was in the middle of a bad dream. “Is this true?” she asked Lester, her voice low. But she sensed what his answer was going to be even before he nodded his head.
“Oh, Brian!” Di cried, clutching his arm. “What are we going to do?”
Trixie swallowed hard. “There’s no need for anyone else to worry about this,” she said. “Brian’s car is here, and he and I will just go and see what this is all about. The rest of you can go on home....”
But already the Bob-Whites were shaking their heads.
“No, we’ll come with you, Trix,” Honey said, moving quickly to her friend’s side.
“That’s right,” Dan put in. “There’s been some mistake made, that’s all.”
“We’ll all go,” Di announced.
“I agree,” Jim said quietly.
“Well, now, and isn’t that just great!” Lester exclaimed, staring at them. “All for one and one for all”— he sniggered—“even if one is a crook!”
He took to his heels and raced away before anyone could answer him.
“O-o-h! That boy!” Trixie stormed, her blue eyes flashing.
“Ignore him, Trix!” Brian answered sharply. “We’ve got more important things to think about for now.”
“Lucky for Lester!” Trixie retorted.
Even as she spoke, she realized that it was easier to feel angry at Lester than worried about Mart’s arrest.
She didn’t even have to wonder if Mart was guilty of having vandalized the school. She knew without any question that he hadn’t done it. Sergeant Molinson should have known it, too. Obviously he didn’t, because otherwise he wouldn’t have taken Mart away as if he were some sort of common criminal.
All the same, her thoughts were in a turmoil as she, Honey, and Di made their way back to the parking lot, while the boys hurried to put away all the cleaning equipment.
“And Brian’s also going to check with Mr. Stratton,” Trixie told the two girls, “just in case Lester was merely playing a joke.”
But when Brian joined her five minutes later, she could tell from his face that most of the news Lester had brought them was all too true.
“Mart has been taken downtown for questioning,” Brian was quick to tell them, “but then so have several other students. Mart hasn’t been arrested, though, so you can relax a little, Trix.”
“But why do they want to question him?” Trixie cried. “He doesn’t know anything about this.” Brian didn’t quite look at her, and he seemed to be trying to think how to frame his answer. “It seems that someone saw him on the school grounds last night,” he said finally and rather hesitantly.
“But that can’t be right,” Trixie exclaimed. “Mart was over at Di’s.”
Di stared. “At my house?”
“Well, wasn’t he?” Trixie asked, bewildered. “No,” Di answered. “I was home all evening.“
“Then he was with Jim—” Trixie stopped as Jim shook his head.
“He wasn’t with me, either,” he said awkwardly. “Then where was he?” Trixie demanded.
“Come on, Trix,” Honey said, opening the passenger door of the station wagon. “Climb in and let’s go. We can figure it all out later.”
In the e
nd, Trixie decided to ride in her brother’s jalopy, while the Bob-Whites’ big car followed them all the way into town.
As Brian pulled up outside the police station, he said suddenly, “I’m afraid there’s something I haven’t told you, Trix. The school wasn’t the only place that was robbed and vandalized last night. Wimpy’s was, too.”
Speechless, Trixie stared at him as she thought of one of their favorite eating places—the hamburger parlor that looked like a train’s dining car.
“Whoever it was,” Brian was saying, “broke in late last night. He stole over a hundred dollars in cash and—are you ready for this?—a whole load of hamburger patties from Wimpy’s freezer.”
“Hamburger patties?” Trixie slowly echoed in astonishment.
Brian nodded. “And here’s something that’s really weird. The Midnight Marauder wrote letters both to the school and to Wimpy’s. For some reason, the post office didn’t deliver them till today. But, Trixie, the Marauder’s letters were warnings. He told them beforehand what he was going to do!”
Trixie was still thinking about these strange events as she and her friends raced into the police station.
They saw Mart at once. He was sitting dejectedly on a bench against the far wall. Three other boys, none of whom Trixie recognized, were sitting with him.
Mart jumped to his feet as soon as he saw the Bob-Whites. “You shouldn’t have come,” he exclaimed, hurrying toward them. “There’s nothing you can do. Didn’t Ruthie give you my message?“
“We haven’t seen Ruthie since you were talking to her a while ago,” Trixie said. “Oh, Mart, are you okay? What’s this all about?”
Before he could answer, a door opened on the far side of the room, and Sergeant Molinson was beckoning to Mart to follow him.
Mart hesitated, then swung on his heel and moved away. “I’ll explain later,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t go away. I’ll be through with this in a minute.”
Trixie was scarcely comforted when, a second later, Sergeant Molinson’s office door banged shut behind him. Somehow, it sounded final, as if they would never see Mart again.
The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder Page 3
