The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

by Campbell, Julie

  Judging from the expression on his face, it looked as if he wasn’t going to give it. He was frowning. “I thought you merely wanted to exercise the horses,” he said, a frown crossing his pleasant face. “But, of course, you’re planning a search party—and through the woods, too, I imagine.“

  “But we’ll be careful, Regan,” Honey replied quickly, knowing that he was always fearful for the safety of his beloved horses.

  “And if we find any places that could be dangerous to them,” Jim added, “we’ll tie them up and go on foot.”

  Miss Trask, dressed as usual in her sensible tweed suit, ran a hand through her short, crisp, iron gray hair. “Yes, we know you will, Jim,” she said. “But you see, Regan is worried because he and I won’t be here when you come back.”

  “That’s right,” Regan said. “We were just about to come and find you, Jim. I’ve heard of a couple of super horses for sale over in White Plains. Miss Trask has a couple of errands to do there, so we thought we’d go together.”

  “But that’s fine,” Jim answered, looking from one to the other of them. “So what’s the problem? Dad and Mom should be home from their business trip by the time we get back—”

  Miss Trask was shaking her head. “No, Jim. That’s something else I had to tell you. Your parents just phoned to say that they’ve got car problems. They’re stuck somewhere in New England, and Tom’s stuck there with them. They won’t be home now until Monday—or maybe later than that.”

  Honey sighed, and Trixie knew she was wishing that her parents didn’t have to be away from home so often.

  She also knew that Tom Delanoy, the Wheelers’ chauffeur, would be disappointed by the delay. He probably wanted to hurry home to his pretty wife, Celia, who was one of the Wheelers’ maids.

  I guess we all want something we haven't got, Trixie thought. Honey would like her parents to be home more often. Tom wants to get home to Celia. And I want to find Reddy. Oh, why can't things work out right?

  Regan must have sensed her impatience, for all at once, he gave in, as the Bob-Whites thought he would. “Obviously, you have to find the dogs,” he said in explanation, “and just as obviously, you’ll have a much better chance on horseback. But be sure, Jim—”

  Jim grinned. “I know. Brush the horses and make them comfortable as soon as we get back and before we do anything for ourselves.”

  “And see that the tack is hung the way it should be,” Honey murmured.

  “Stirrups on leathers,” Brian said.

  “Girth thrown over the saddle,” Mart added, “and the bridle on the hook right under the saddle peg. See, Regan? We know. You can trust us.” Trixie looked at him sharply and thought she could detect the deep sense of relief that her almost-twin was feeling. Although his troubles weren’t yet over, it was as if his mind was easier, now that he’d shared his problems with his friends.

  And his friends would help, once they had solved this other problem. Trixie knew that, without any doubt whatsoever.

  Even while the Bob-Whites were hurrying to saddle the horses, Trixie was wondering where on earth they should begin to look for the two dogs.

  Dan, who had been working just as hard as the rest to help ready the animals, suddenly confessed ruefully that he couldn’t join them in the search. He worked for Mr. Maypenny, the Wheelers’ gamekeeper, who had already given Dan the whole morning off for personal business.

  “But now I’ve got to get back,” Dan said as he helped his friends mount their horses. “Let me know when you find the dogs, though.”

  “I’m glad you said when and not if,” Trixie couldn’t resist saying.

  “Hey, listen, don’t worry so, Trix,” Dan answered, looking up at her as she sat astride Susie, the little black mare. “You’ll find Reddy, and Patch will be with him, you’ll see. As for that other matter”—he looked up at Mart who was seated, as usual, on his favorite mount, Strawberry—“you can count on me to do anything I can to help.” With a wave of his hand, he was gone.

  Regan watched them as far as the stable yard, where Di was already waiting for them.

  “Now, have you mapped out where you’re going to begin looking?” Regan asked, still worried. “Those woods around here are thick, as you know, and it’s useless scattering off in all directions unless you know where you’re going.”

  Trixie wasn’t quite sure where they were going, either, but she wasn’t about to tell Regan so. Nothing must hold them up any longer.

  “I know where I looked this morning,” she answered quickly, “so now we’re going to search where I didn’t look. Come on, everyone! Are we ready?”

  With a clattering of hooves, they were soon out of the yard and, in another instant, were cantering easily across the wet meadow.

  Jim, who was mounted on Jupiter, the big black gelding, led the way. Starlight, the chestnut gelding, with Brian on his back, trotted easily just behind. Mart on Strawberry, Di on Sunny, Trixie on Susie, and Honey, who today was riding Lady, brought up the rear.

  Around them, the air smelled fresh and clean from the recent rainstorm, though Trixie didn’t even notice. She was deep in thought.

  “Remember that time when we went looking for Di’s missing butler?” Trixie suddenly called to Jim as they neared Glen Road.

  Jim reined in his horse. “You mean the time you found the headless horseman as well?” he asked, grinning.

  Trixie frowned. “Why don’t we start looking around that path we’ve named Harrison’s Trail?” she suggested.

  “Why?” Brian demanded.

  Trixie shrugged helplessly. “It seems like as good a place as any to start. Besides, I’ve got a feeling—”

  Brian groaned. “Not another feeling!”

  Trixie nodded. “I keep on thinking about it, Brian,” she said, “though I don’t know why. We passed that trail this morning, when we were in your car, and I thought then—that is, I think I thought—that is—”

  Jim held up his hand and grinned at her. “Okay,” he said. “Say no more. If you think you thought, that’s fine with me. We’ve already wasted enough time talking. Harrison’s Trail it is.” He glanced around at the others. “If Trixie’s got a hunch about it, chances are she’s right. I’ve learned never to ignore her hunches!”

  As they moved off once more, Honey leaned across to her friend. “Have you really got a hunch about this, Trix? Did you think you saw something? If so, what was it?”

  “I don’t know, honest!” Trixie replied. “But we’ve got to start somewhere. And, oh, Honey! Just think! Suppose I’m right.”

  On the other hand, a little voice said from somewhere deep inside her, you could just as easily be wrong.

  But Trixie tried not to listen to it.

  Five minutes later, Trixie had dismounted and was bending over the lower branches of a thorn bush. It grew by the side of the road and marked the entrance to the path that, she knew, led eventually through the woods to Sleepyside Hollow. Today, however, she wasn’t even thinking about the events that had happened there, when the Bob-Whites had been trying to solve one of their puzzling mysteries.

  Now her whole attention was centered on the long, chestnut brown tufts of hair that were tangled in the thorns likg alien blossoms.

  Gently, she disengaged several bright strands. Then she looked up at her friends waiting silently on their horses. “The hair belongs to Reddy,” she said at last. “I’m sure of it.”

  Mart let out his breath in one long sigh. “Jeepers!” he exclaimed. “But how on earth did you manage to spot it from a moving car?”

  “I was just wondering the same thing,” Brian said, staring at Trixie as if he’d never seen her before.

  In spite of her worry, Trixie managed a weak grin. “I don’t know how I saw it,” she answered. “In fact, I didn’t even realize I had.”

  “Maybe her cranium—or the brains inside it— aren’t so pea-sized after all,” Mart said, teasing.

  “I still don’t understand,” Di said, frowning. “What h
ave those hairs got to do with anything?“

  “I think,” Trixie answered, “that they have to mean that Reddy came this way last night.”

  “Or this morning,” Brian put in. “Maybe he came by here today.”

  “Whenever he came,” Trixie said, “somehow he must’ve scraped himself against this bush.” She stared off into the woods. “But then where did he go?”

  Suddenly Jupiter moved restlessly, eager to be on the move again. Jim held him firmly. “I’d suggest,” he said, “that we split up in pairs and comb the woods.”

  “Good idea,” Brian agreed, “but let’s not forget our promise to Regan to look out for the horses.”

  “Who goes where,” Jim asked, “and how shall we keep in touch?”

  It didn’t take long to decide. Brian and Mart chose to search the area to the west. Jim and Di wanted to search the area to the north, which would eventually lead them to Sleepyside Hollow.

  “And that leaves the east for us, Honey,” Trixie said. “If anyone finds anything, we can give the Bob-White signal to summon the others.” She pursed her mouth, and in another instant, she was sounding the Bob-Whites’ secret signal. Bob, bob-white. Bob, bob-white.

  Trixie’s hopes were high as she and Honey turned their horses toward the area they were going to search, and for the next fifteen minutes, she and Honey were silent. Carefully, they watched the trail ahead of them, always mindful of the horses’ safety. They also watched for any further signs of Reddy’s progress. But if there had ever been any, the rain seemed to have erased them.

  Soon they were in a part of the Wheelers’ game preserve that Trixie had never seen before. Dark, damp trails crossed and recrossed each other. Many ended in a tangle of underbrush. Above their heads, tall trees stretched upward to gray clouds, which seemed to be gathering once more.

  “I don’t know how I could have been so wrong about the weather,” Trixie muttered, leaning forward to pat Susie’s neck. “I thought it was going to be a beautiful day. Now look at it! If it rains again, old girl, both you and I are going to get soaked.”

  Susie whinnied softly and nodded her head as if she understood every word.

  Trixie glanced around to see if Honey was still following her and found that her friend had pulled Lady to a standstill. As Trixie watched, Honey raised herself in the saddle and stared at something to the right of the trail.

  “Take a look at that, Trix!” she called, pointing. “It’s funny, but I’ve never noticed it before.”

  For a moment, Trixie could see nothing but more tree trunks and bushes, and another dim trail that seemed to wind toward a small clearing.

  “Did you find something—?” she began.

  At that moment, she saw what had caught Honey’s attention. A dilapidated old shack, its door standing half open, stood off to one side. It looked as if it had been abandoned long ago.

  “I didn’t know that was here, either,” Trixie said at last. “I’m going to take a look. Are you coming?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she slipped quickly from Susie’s back and looped the little mare’s reins over a low-hanging tree branch.

  She heard Honey whisper urgently, “Wait for me, Trix. Someone might be in there. Oh, be careful!”

  When Lady, too, was tethered, the girls crept closer and soon were standing beneath the old building’s only window.

  Trixie stood on tiptoe and tried to look through it. “It’s too high,” she whispered. “I can’t reach, Honey. Give me a boost up.”

  As her friend obeyed, Trixie reached up and clung to the windowsill. She wiped the grimy pane with the heel of her hand.

  Suddenly, her gaze sharpened as she stared down at the shack’s dark interior.

  Honey felt her give one startled jerk and heard her muffled scream.

  “Let me down!” Trixie cried wildly. “Quick— let me down!”

  Honey relaxed her grip and stared at her friend’s white face. “What is it, Trixie?” she exclaimed. “What did you find?”

  Trixie swallowed hard. “I—I found Reddy— and Patch, too,” she answered, catching her breath in a sob. “They’re both in there. They’re on the floor. But, oh, Honey, I’m afraid we’re too late!”

  “Too late?” Honey echoed. “Trixie, what do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Trixie answered, the hot tears gathering behind her eyelids, “that I think both dogs are dead!”

  The Letter ● 9

  DEAD?” HONEY GASPED, not believing her ears. “Oh, Trix, but they can’t be. You must have made a mistake.”

  Trixie’s teeth had begun to chatter. “There’s no mistake,” she answered. “Y-You g-go and l-look for yourself.”

  “Is there anyone else inside?” Honey asked, her voice low.

  “I c-couldn’t see anyone,” Trixie said, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Honey, I don’t believe it myself! What would Crabapple Farm be without Reddy? What’ll I tell the boys? What will Dad and Moms say?”

  “We’re going to have to go in there,” Honey said, nodding toward the shack’s half-opened door. “We’ve got to find out how this terrible thing happened. We can figure out later what we’re going to tell everyone.”

  Trixie struggled to stop herself from trembling. She knew that Honey felt just as sad as she did herself. She also knew that Honey could never enter that dismal shack alone. Trixie would have to go with her.

  She took several deep breaths. “It’s okay,” she said at last. “I think I’m all right now.” She bit her lip and clenched her fists as she took the first step forward. “Let’s go.”

  Honey stayed close to her friend’s side as Trixie reached out a still-shaking hand and pushed open the door. Two more steps, and both girls stood on hard-packed earth floor and stared down at the two bodies that lay there.

  The two dogs lay on their sides facing each other. Patch, Jim’s little black and white cocker spaniel, disciplined too late to be the hunting dog his master had wanted him to be, now lay with his tail stretched straight out behind him.

  Reddy, his long, golden body looking like some bright banner, looked cold and stiff.

  Trixie, the tears now streaming down her pale cheeks, dropped to her knees beside him.

  “Oh, Reddy,” she sobbed, bending low over his shining coat. “Why did this have to happen to you? How I wish I could bring you back! Reddy, can you hear me? Do you even care?”

  And Reddy, as if in answer to her question, promptly opened his mouth—and hiccuped.

  For a moment, Trixie thought her ears had deceived her. She stared at her dog’s seemingly lifeless body. “Reddy?” she said, her voice quavering. “Did you say something?”

  Reddy hiccuped again.

  Honey gasped. “Why, Trixie, I heard that! Does it mean—can it mean—”

  Trixie scrambled to her feet, hardly daring to hope that what she suspected was true. She stood over Reddy and gently nudged him with the toe of her shoe.

  “Up, Reddy!” she ordered firmly. Then, remembering that he obeyed only reverse commands ever since Mart had undertaken to train him, she corrected herself. “Down, Reddy!” she said. “Down, boy!”

  A quiver ran through the mischievous Irish setter’s body. Then he opened one lazy brown eye and looked at the anxious faces bending over him.

  In another second, his tail was thumping the floor with joy because two of his favorite people had come to see him, and soon he had scrambled to his feet and was trying to kiss both girls at once.

  Patch, hearing the commotion, lifted his head and gazed with bleary eyes at the joyful reunion. Not to be outdone, he promptly joined in.

  Honey and Trixie tried to hug both dogs at once. They laughed and cried and hugged the dogs again.

  It was several minutes before Trixie remembered the rest of the Bob-Whites, who would, by now, be discouraged by their unsuccessful search.

  “Will you call them, or shall I?” she asked, laughing as Reddy launched himself into her eager arms once more.

  Honey�
�s face was flushed with happiness. “I’ll call them,” she answered, and with Patch at her heels, she stood outside the shack and whistled to the wind: Bob, bob-white. Bob, bob-white.

  At first, there was no answer. Then the wind seemed to send the message back: Bob, bob-white. Bob, bob-white.

  After that, Trixie and Honey took turns sounding their secret signal to guide the others in the right direction through the woods.

  As soon as they appeared, Trixie could tell from the expressions on their faces that they were fearful about what news they would find waiting for them.

  Reddy and Patch, however, didn’t keep them in suspense. Recognizing the sound of the horses’ thudding hooves, both dogs ran to meet their grinning owners.

  “Hey, down, Reddy!” Mart yelled as his horse plunged under him. “I mean, up, Reddy! Up, boy!”

  “For crying out loud!” Brian said, as Reddy turned his ecstatic attention toward him instead. “Why didn’t you teach this dog to obey properly, Mart?”

  But Trixie could see that her brothers were as relieved as she was herself that their dog had been found unharmed.

  In all the excitement of the fond reunion, it was difficult for Trixie and Honey to tell their story. Finally, Brian asked, “But what were the dogs doing here in the first place? Did I hear you say, Trix, that you thought they were dead? What’s going on, anyway?”

  Trixie was silent for so long that the Bob-Whites wondered if she had even heard. Then she frowned and said, “I know what brought the dogs here. I’m fairly sure that they came last night. You’ll never guess what I’ve just found inside that shack.”

  “I’ll buy that,” Mart replied. “What did you find?”

  Trixie led her friends into the old building’s dim interior. “Look at this!” she said, pointing.

  It took a moment for the Bob-Whites’ eyes to become accustomed to the gloom. Then they saw what Trixie had discovered.

  Against the far wall, a large cardboard carton had been tipped on its side. Around its edges were the marks of teeth—dogs’ teeth. Inside the carton, a large, clear plastic bag had been eagerly ripped open, revealing several stacks of something round and red.