The Happy Valley Mystery

by Campbell, Julie

  “Do tell us about all of it,” Mrs. Schulz urged them. “First, though,” Bob said, “I’d like to hear a little about the country around where you live—and about Rip Van Winkle and the Headless Horseman and all those places Washington Irving described....”

  “Henry Hudson and his crew of the Half Moon,” Ned said. “Do they still hang around the Catskills on moonlit nights? I wish we had something like that around here.”

  “Come and visit us, and we’ll take you all over the country next summer. Will you?” Jim urged.

  “It’s a deal, if our folks will let us,” the Hubbell twins chorused, exchanging pleased glances.

  “The thing that interests me most,” Trixie said, “is pirate gold. Pirates used to sail into the Hudson River for refuge after they’d pillaged ships on the high seas. They buried their gold along the shore.”

  “Captain Kidd did that,” Ned said, excited.

  “That’s just what I mean,” Trixie said. “And what I’m going to do someday is to find some of that treasure. Honey and I read everything we can get our hands on about Captain Kidd and his times, and we know,” she said mysteriously, “something that nobody else knows. We know just where to look for that treasure.”

  “You do?” the twins asked breathlessly. Ned’s black eyes were twice their size.

  Trixie nodded. “I have a secret map,” she said. She always liked an audience. Now she could imagine all of the Bob-Whites digging away at the shores of the

  Hudson, digging and uncovering brassbound chests... and maybe a lot of admiring 4-H members watching.

  “If there’s any gold left in the Hudson River Valley, Trixie and Honey will find it,” Diana said. “They’re detectives I”

  This was too much for the midwestern girl and boys. I guess now they wish they lived in the East, Trixie thought.

  “So that’s why you were so interested in my husband’s black beard!” Mrs. Schulz said, smiling.

  Trixie’s ego collapsed like a punctured balloon. She smiled sheepishly. “It did look funny,” she said in self-defense.

  “Trixie doesn’t make many mistakes when she’s working on a case, does she, Mart?” Diana said emphatically.

  Just as Mart was about to start on the story of Trixie’s past exploits, the old Seth Thomas clock in the comer bonged the horn: of three o’clock.

  Trixie, hearing it, snapped her fingers, looked at Jim and Honey, and stood up. “I said when we came that we’d just have to eat and run,” she said to Mrs. Schulz. “Now we’ve eaten till we almost can’t run, but we have to go. I just hope we’ll be in time to validate our tickets and pick up our reservations.”

  “We’ve got plenty of time—” Jim started to say, but a glance from Trixie left his sentence in midair. He shrugged his shoulders resignedly.

  They found their coats and scarves, said a sincere thank-you and good-bye to Mrs. Schulz, held up their hands in a salute to the others, and went out into the rain.

  “I'll ran you home to pick up your car,” Ned called after them. “Wait!”

  “No need to do it,” Trixie called back. “We’ll run for it!”

  Before Ned could get out of the house, they were racing toward Army Post Road.

  OVERBOARD! ● 15

  WHEN THEY CLIMBED into Ben’s jalopy, which was parked in the driveway at Happy Valley Farm, Honey said, “I’ve known you to be pretty cagey at times, Trixie, but I never till today heard you say something that wasn’t true.”

  “What are you talking about?” Trixie asked, terribly concerned.

  “I mean what you said about having to go to the airport about our reservations. That isn’t true, is it?

  “It is true, Sis,” Jim answered for Trixie. “The tickets have to be confirmed. It could be done by telephone—but you said you wanted to shop, too.”

  “Honey, you don’t honestly think I’d tell a lie about it, do you?” Trixie’s face was very sober.

  “I’ve never thought such a thing before,” Honey insisted, “but this is the first I’ve heard about having to go to the airport. Do we have to go this very afternoon?”

  “Not exactly... maybe not exactly this afternoon,” Trixie admitted. “You’ll remember, though, that Uncle Andrew warned us to take care of it in plenty of time. What’s wrong, Honey, in doing it now?”

  “Nothing, I guess,” Honey conceded. “Are we really going to the airport or just to Walnut Woods?”

  “Both places,” Trixie said quickly. “The airport first, aren’t we, Jim?”

  “That’s right, Trix,” Jim said and backed the car around. With a loud blast of the exhaust, they were up the road and on the highway to the airfield.

  Once there, they took care of the business of tickets, browsed in the giftshop, then went back to the car.

  “The rain hasn’t stopped a bit,” Honey said. “It was good of that man to put our tickets in a plastic envelope so they wouldn’t get wet, wasn’t it? It sure is pouring down! This jalopy looks even worse than Brian’s.”

  “Yes, and with that boat on top, it’s so top-heavy I have a hard time steering,” Jim said. “I don’t see why Ben doesn’t take it off when he knows he isn’t going to use it.”

  “If you’d look at the way he has it tied on, you wouldn’t wonder,” Honey said, laughing. “Right now, I think we’d be better off in a boat than in this jalopy.

  Is that water down there in the Hubbells’ field, Jim?”

  “That’s just what it is,” Jim said. “Will you give up, Trix, and go back to Ned’s house?”

  “Jim Frayne, of course I won’t,” Trixie said. “This is the very last chance I have. I know just exactly where to look for those men. I know where I saw that light in the woods. The water isn’t even near the road. Jim, you just went past Sand Hill!”

  “Oil, Trixie, let me out of my agreement, won’t you?” Jim said. “This is a day for ducks.”

  “I think we have to go over there today,” Honey said. “It means a lot to Trixie. It should mean a lot to you, too. We want to do something for Trixie’s Uncle Andrew, after all the fun we’ve had this week.”

  “Right you are, Sis,” Jim said. “You’ve heard my last word. Wait till I turn this bus around and get onto Sand Hill.”

  It was easier said than done. In backing around, Jim went into the ditch, and the girls had to get out and push. The mud splashed on them, and their clothing clung to them.

  “You two look just like the witches in Macbeth’’ Jim said.

  “I’ll lend you my compact, and you can see what you look like,” Honey said. Then, as he straightened the car, she said, “It looks like clear sailing now.”

  “Sailing is right,” Jim agreed. “Down there on the woods road the water is almost over the shoulder. But here we go... kersplash!”

  “It’s the first road,” Trixie directed. “We took the second one, if you’ll remember, Jim, that night of the barbecue, and it’s a dead-end road. It was just opposite here,” she went on, “that I saw that light. Stop a minute, please, Jim!”

  Jim slowed the car, and Trixie took some small field glasses from a case in her pocket.

  “Gosh, you think of everything!” Jim said admiringly. “Can you see any sign of life over there?”

  “Not yet,” Trixie said, trying to adjust the lenses. “Let me take a look,” Jim said, and Trixie handed over the glasses.

  “The woods are so dense and the rain’s coming down so hard I can’t see a thing,” Jim said. “Wait a minute. I’ll pull a little closer.”

  Jim started the car. The engine roared. Then a noise far louder intruded—a crash, as though a dozen brick walls had fallen.

  “What’s that?” Honey asked and grabbed Jim’s arm. “Darned if I know,” Jim answered. “Do you have any idea, Trix?”

  “I think I do...” Trixie said, really frightened now. “In fact, I know I do.”

  “The bridge over the Raccoon River went out!” Jim guessed.

  Trixie nodded, unable to say anything.

&n
bsp; “We’d better get out of here in a hurry, then,” Jim said. “Here, take your field glasses, Trixie.”

  A rush and a roar of water followed the collapse of the bridge. About fifty or seventy-five feet from them, water swirled angrily. They were now on the edge of a bayou, and, as Jim tried to start the car so that he could turn, great branches floated by out in the current, then the bloated body of a cow and half a dozen chickens.

  “Turn around as fast as you can,” Honey urged, terrified. “Oh, you can't turn around, Jim! There isn’t any road!”

  “It’s dry land where we are,” Trixie said.

  “Just now it is,” Jim agreed. His face was grim.

  “Let’s not get panicky,” Trixie urged. “I’m going to have another look. I think I see something over there. Look, Jim!”

  “Are you crazy, Trixie?” Jim asked exasperatedly. “Forget that house in the woods. You don’t seem to realize that we’re in real danger. I don’t know what to do first.”

  “We are in a jam,” Trixie said apologetically. “And it looks as though we’re going to be in a worse one. Jim—”

  “Yes, Trixie, what is it? You’d better come up with an idea.”

  “Let’s get out and take Ben’s boat off the top of the jalopy. We’ll be a lot safer in a boat than we are here.”

  They hurriedly piled out of the car. In a few minutes Trixie said, “Quickly, Jim—there—it’s loose on this side. The water’s coming right up to our feet! Push the boat off, Jim! There now—shove!”

  The little rowboat plopped into the water, and they all scrambled into it. Just in time, too, for the water, rising quickly, swirled around the car as they pushed away from it. Then, viciously, the backwash lifted the small, high, old-fashioned jalopy and carried it ten or fifteen feet, then whirled it out into midstream.

  “There goes our last touch with dry land,” Jim said, “and there goes Ben’s pride and joy. Honey, Trixie, you take the other oar, and I’ll get this one. I think—this— is—the—toughest spot we’ve—ever—been—in.”

  The girls didn’t answer. They couldn’t.

  “Hold your oar steady, girls,” Jim ordered. “We have to turn this boat. It’s drifting toward the current—and— we—have—to—turn it,” he panted.

  The girls strained to hold the boat as nearly steady as possible. Jim tugged with his oar against the rush of water. Finally, reluctantly, the boat veered around. “Now, pull!” Jim shouted. “Pull hard!”

  “There goes a chicken house,” Honey said. “I suppose all of the chickens have been drowned. Isn’t this terrible?” Honey put her hands before her eyes.

  “Keep pulling, Sis!” Jim commanded.

  “Oh, see what’s on top of that chicken house,” Trixie called. “Stop, Jim! Stop!”

  “I will, if you tell me what for,” Jim said. “This isn’t an outing, Trixie. We’re in big trouble!”

  “You have to stop before that chicken house gets down where we are,” Trixie said. “Jim, there’s a little puppy on top of it. He’s crying. Hear him? Let’s try to work our way over to him.”

  “And get hit midships with that big old hen house?” Jim asked. “You’ve lost your mind, Trix.”

  “She has not ” Honey said, pulling hard on the oar. “We can’t just let that puppy drown. Look, Jim... it’s a setter puppy... just like Reddy back home.”

  “Don’t cry, baby!” Trixie called to the dog.

  When the puppy heard her, it started yapping happily, just as though it were saying, “It’s people, and they’ll know what to do.”

  “That does it!” Jim said. “Poor little guy. Hold your oar firm, and I’ll see if I can get any closer to the hen house.”

  “It’s rammed up against a tree trunk now,” Trixie reported. “Thank heaven. Now, if we row fast, we can reach it before the current catches it and whirls it away.”

  Jim, his eyes determinedly trained on the puppy and measuring the distance they had to go to save it, pulled harder and harder.

  “Now!” he shouted triumphantly. “Jump for it, fella!” He held his oar steady with one hand and reached for the small puppy with the other.

  Confidently, accurately, the puppy jumped. Jim caught it by its front feet in midair and tossed it into Trixie’s lap.

  “There’s your puppy,” he said. “I wish I were as sure of saving your lives. We’ve got to regain the distance we lost by backtracking. Do you see that red barn?”

  Jim pointed to a barn that just barely showed its red top, far back at the beginning of the Walnut Woods road.

  "I see it, Jim,” Trixie said.

  “That’s where we have to set our sights. That’s where we have to land to get away from this flood. That’s Ned’s father’s second barn. He just bought the land. There’s no house on it, but he uses the barn. Ben told me about it when we were fishing. I hope we make it!”

  “We will!” Trixie said, her lips firmly set.

  “We will,” Honey said, just as confidently. “I’ve been praying—hard.”

  “We all have, I think,” Jim said. “Don’t stop now. Trixie, what in the name of heaven are you doing?” Trixie had taken the glasses out of her pocket and, as she helped Honey row with one hand, she held the binoculars to her eyes with the other. They were trained on the woods.

  “I just have to look,” she explained. “After all we’ve been through—are going through—I want to take a last look to see if I can see anything over there in the woods. Jim! Jim!”

  In her excitement Trixie dropped the glasses. The puppy, startled from her lap, barked and whined.

  “Sit down!” Jim commanded.

  “I am sitting down,” Trixie shouted. “Jim, I saw something! Here, I’ve got to look again. It is. I can see them plain as day! Jim, it’s the thieves, as sure as you’re born... right over there on the edge of the woods.

  They’re marooned with a big truck. And what do you think they have in that truck?”

  “I don’t know, but sit down! For the love of heaven, sit down, Trixie! I swear I’ll bat you over the head with my oar and knock you down if you don’t. Were in real danger, Trixie. Sit down!”

  Trixie, so excited she forgot where she was, didn’t even hear Jim’s shouting. “It’s bundles of wool!” she screamed. “That’s what they have in that truck— bundles of wool! They’re beckoning to us to come over. Jim, it’s the thieves! It is! Oh, jimmy jeepers, hallelujah, it’s the thieves! I can tell the sheriff exactly where to find them-exactly-and they can’t get out! Jeepers, Jim! Here, take the glasses; look!”

  Trixie, in spite of Honey’s restraining hand, leaned over, and the boat tilted dangerously.

  “Trixie!” Jim shouted. “Trixie Belden! Sit down!” Startled, Trixie realized suddenly where she was, stumbled at Jim’s sharp voice, tried to regain her balance, and fell into the river!

  Deadly Danger • 16

  SWIM! KEEP PADDLING!” Jim cried to Trixie. “Keep circling the boat if you can. I’ll pick you up. Honey, hold it steady. Here, Trixie, here on this side!”

  Trixie, her mouth full of muddy river water, paddled vigorously to keep afloat. “Don’t worry,” she called to Jim and Honey. “I’ve been overboard before!”

  “Not in a current like this,” Jim said. “Listen to me, Trixie. You’re in deadly danger! Hold steady! Honey, hold that oar!”

  Honey, white-faced and shocked, sat like a marble statue in the boat, never touching the oar. The puppy in her lap wiggled and whimpered, his small head against her shoulder.

  “Honey!” Jim called. “Snap out of it!” With his oar, he dipped water and splashed it on her face. He had to have her help. Startled, Honey recovered and seized her oar.

  “Keep that oar steady!” Jim said to her sternly. “Now, Trixie, now—there we are—wait a minute; don’t try it now. I’ll hold the boat a little closer. Now!”

  Trixie, paddling hard, reached for the boat, missed, reached again, and tried to climb in on Honey’s side.

  “Not there!” Jim called
frantically. “Can’t you see I’ve pulled the boat around so you can get in the bow? There, now, let loose, Trixie!”

  But Honey, so anxious to get Trixie back in the boat, leaned forward too far. The boat tipped, then capsized, and they were all in the water! The little puppy, terrified, paddled vigorously at Jim’s side.

  “Oh, Jim!” Trixie wailed. “See what I’ve done!”

  “Keep still, both of you,” Jim said. “Don’t waste breath talking. Thank goodness you can swim. Hold on to that oar, Trixie. I have the other one. I’ll right the boat. There! Over it goes-and the puppy into it, and the oar. Shove the other one back to me, Trixie— there—in it goes, too. Just keep afloat and swim in the direction of the shore. We have to get away from this current!”

  “What will you do?” Trixie said. “We won’t leave you.”

  “Trixie, just please don’t talk. Do as I told you! I'll pull the boat after me and swim toward you. Don’t swallow any water!”

  Honey and Trixie, their clothing hampering them seriously, churned the water and, with the extra strength born of fear, managed to propel themselves slowly, surely, away from the current.

  Back of them, Jim made slower progress, dragging the boat and trying to swim with one arm.

  “You can wait for me now,” he shouted. “Tread water if you can. When I reach you, stay on opposite sides of me. I’ll try to pull the boat in between you.”

  Honey and Trixie splashed hard, trying to stay, as nearly as possible, in one spot. The water was a little quieter. The downpour of rain had slackened.

  Once the boat slipped away from Jim, but he turned quickly and retrieved it. Literally inching his way, he finally guided the light craft between the two girls. Then he held the stem low and told Trixie to ease herself aboard.

  This accomplished, he swam around to the other side and helped Honey in; then, with both girls in the stem, he clambered into the bow himself.

  Exhausted, the three of them sat for a moment saying nothing. The half-drowned puppy snuggled close to Trixie for warmth, its little tongue caressing her hand.