“Things look a lot different when the sun is shining, don’t they?” Trixie called to Honey as they turned in and started up the narrow road. “But it’s still awfully squishy. I’m getting muddy.”
“Me, too.” Honey brushed a spot of mud off her saddle. “We’ll have some cleaning up to do to pass Regan’s inspection when we get home!”
They were passing the burnt-out mansion when Trixie slowed down. “Golly, Honey! It looks gloomy and mysterious even in the sunshine. Sad, too, now that we know about poor little Emily and Miss Rachel.”
“It must have been the biggest house in the valley,” Honey said, shaking her head. “They must have been awfully rich to be able to keep up a place like that. Goodness knows, ours is only half that size, and Dad says it’s a white elephant.” She giggled. “That was probably a whole herd of white elephants.”
They rode on and soon came in sight of the small white cottage. But they reined in as they stared at the car parked in front of the gate. Someone was calling on Miss Rachel Martin.
“Well, I guess we might as well turn around and go home. It’s probably somebody who’ll stay all afternoon drinking our mint tea,” Trixie moaned. “And I was hoping I could dazzle Miss Bennett with the recipe tomorrow morning! She’s collecting all sorts of herb recipes for her book.”
“Book?” Honey queried as they turned back toward the main road. “Is that why she’s so keen on herbs and swamp plants?”
“Oh, yes. Miss Bennett says that when the pioneers were living in deep forests miles and miles from any doctors, they had to make up remedies for practically everything. I suppose they had to experiment a lot before they found the right ones. Of course, they learned a lot from the Indians.”
Honey looked impressed. “I never thought of the Indians as people who needed medicine. The pictures always show them marvelously healthy, even if they must have nearly frozen lots of times, not wearing much clothing!”
“Oh, Miss Bennett says they had remedies for all sorts of illnesses and accidents. You’d never believe some of the things they used ordinary little weeds for. Like the one they called boneset. The Indians believed it would make broken bones heal fast, and when the white men tried it, it worked just fine.”
“How did they use it?” Honey’s eyes opened wide. “They made a poultice of the dried leaves and tied it on the arm or leg or whatever bone was broken, and the bone knit fast. Miss Bennett says part of the treatment was that the broken bone had to be kept perfectly still for a certain length of time, and perhaps that was why it healed so quickly, and not the boneset poultice. But she says the plant does have a lot of calcium in it, so maybe it did help.”
“Anyhow, they thought it did. That’s what counts.”
“I was hoping we could talk to Miss Rachel about boneset and some of the other things we gathered in the swamp.” Trixie frowned.
“Oh, well, you can tell Miss Bennett about the mint tea we didn’t get, and I’m sure if you promise to get her the recipe next Saturday or Sunday, you’ll get the good marks for the project, anyway!” Honey laughed as she and Trixie guided their horses down onto the wider road and stepped up their pace.
They had gone only a few yards when a car came roaring down out of the narrow road and passed them, within a foot of Trixie’s mare. The mare reared, and it took all of Trixie’s horsemanship to stay in the saddle.
By the time the mare was calm again, the car was out of sight, but they had both recognized it. It was the car they had seen parked outside of Miss Rachel’s cottage.
And the driver was Paul Trent.
Trouble Brewing ● 14
WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE he was doing up at Miss Rachel’s place?” Trixie asked with a frown.
“Probably trying to get her to confess she was in on the kidnapping fake,” Honey replied scornfully.
“Well, from the look on his face, she told him off, loud and clear,” Trixie said. “He was certainly upset about something.” She had a sudden inspiration. “Maybe we should go back and let her tell us about it.”
“Huh-uh.” Honey shook her head firmly. “Let’s wait till after school tomorrow. Maybe Di can come along. She’s sure to love that little old cottage and the garden.” So they rode homeward, chatting easily and making plans to bring Miss Rachel a basketful of Mrs. Belden’s home-canned fruit as a gift.
But when they reached the foot of the Wheelers’ driveway and paused, as usual, to gaze with pride at their little clubhouse, they were surprised to see the door wide open. They could hear the sound of voices.
“That’s Jim laughing,” Honey said, surprised. “I thought he and your brothers were going to be planting all day for Mr. Maypenny. They must have finished early.”
“I hear Mart’s voice, too,” Trixie said with a little frown. “Wonder what they’re laughing about.”
Another outburst of laughter made them exchange quick looks. They both had recognized Bobby’s shrill giggles coming from the clubhouse.
“There’s something going on, and I’m not going to miss it,” Trixie declared. “Let’s take a quick look before we put these critters of ours to bed.”
They dismounted hastily and tied the horses to the fence post. An outburst of handclaps startled them both.
“I’m sure I heard Gaye laughing just then,” Honey said as they hurried up the brick walk.
“Gaye? After collapsing last night and all?” Trixie asked, surprised. They both hurried faster to see.
As they reached the door, they heard Jim’s voice. “Say, that’s a keen trick, Gaye. Where did he ever learn to dance like that?”
“I taught him myself, of course,” came Gaye’s reply. “He wouldn’t learn from anyone but me.”
As the girls looked into the clubroom, they were astonished to see Mr. Poo waltzing around on his hind legs and balancing a small, brightly painted stick across his aristocratic nose as he danced. Gaye, sitting cross-legged on the table, was guiding him with motions of her hand, while Jim, Mart, Brian, and Bobby watched with approval.
“He can do lots more tricks,” Gaye said in a bored voice, “but that’s enough for now.” She stopped waving her hand, and the poodle dropped to all fours, picked up the fallen baton with his teeth, and went to lie down with it across his paws. He kept bright eyes on his little mistress, alert for another signal to perform.
“He’s a whiz, all right. And so are you, kid!” Mart told Gaye seriously.
Jim saw the girls in the doorway. “Hey, Madame President, Honey, both of you come on in and take a look at what Mr. Poo’s learned to do!”
“Yeah, maybe you can teach that Reddy of ours some of these tricks!” Mart added with a laugh as Trixie hesitated.
She reddened and then sniffed disdainfully at them. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “Reddy couldn’t be bothered learning a lot of silly show-off stuff like that. He’s a real dog!”
“Oh!” Gaye glared at Trixie and slid down off the table. “I hate you! You’re mean and horrid! Come, Mr. Poo!” She ran to the door and out before any of them realized she was going. The little dog frisked after her.
They could hear her crying as she ran down the path to the driveway. Everyone stared disapprovingly at the startled Trixie, and Bobby burst into tears.
“Oh, Trix! You’ve hurt the poor child’s feelings!” Honey said reproachfully. “You know she adores that puppy!”
Mart snorted at Trixie. “Just because you can’t waltz with a stick on your nose, you get jealous of a poodle!”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings,” Trixie stammered. “I was just standing up for Reddy!” She looked appealingly at Brian, but he shook his head and looked grim. It was too much for her. Brian was always her champion. She turned and ran out.
There was a moment of silence. Then Honey said weakly, “After all, Mart, you didn’t have to be that sarcastic. Trix didn’t mean to—” She broke off abruptly as she was interrupted by Trixie’s call.
“Jim, Brian! Hurry! Gaye’s fallen and hurt herself
!” There was fear in the voice, and they all heard it. Jim was the first to reach the door, but the others were close on his heels, with Honey bringing up the rear and holding Bobby’s hand.
They saw Gaye lying in a crumpled heap in the middle of the driveway. The small poodle was standing guard beside her motionless figure. When he saw them coming, he started to bark defiantly.
Trixie reached Gaye’s side first and knelt down by her. “It’s all right, Mr. Poo,” she told the poodle. “We’re going to help her.” He whimpered and lay down beside Gaye, watching alertly as Jim and Brian came up quickly and knelt down opposite Trixie.
Brian motioned them all to stand back as he made a cautious examination. Bobby was crying loudly, and Honey was having difficulty holding him back from rushing to Gaye. “Somebody hurted Gaye!” he wailed, struggling with Honey.
Brian looked up at him. “It’s all right, Bobby. Hush, now. She just tripped and knocked herself out. She’ll be okay in a minute.”
Bobby stopped struggling. If Brian said Gaye was all right, that was good enough for Bobby. He had faith in Brian because Brian never teased him as Mart did.
“We’d better carry her up to the house,” suggested Jim.
“She’s coming out of it now,” Brian told him. “She’s got a small bump on her forehead, but that’s about all.”
Gaye’s eyelids fluttered, and she looked up at them with a sad little moan.
Trixie asked anxiously, “Oh, Gaye! Do you feel all right now?”
Gaye frowned at her and struggled to sit up. Jim and Brian helped her, and Jim kept his arm around her shoulders to support her. “Just sit still a couple of minutes, and you’ll feel okay,” Brian told her, but she shoved him aside and glared at Trixie.
“Go away! I don’t like you!” she told Trixie.
Trixie flushed, but she stayed where she was. “I’m sorry I made you angry. Mr. Poo is a fine little dog, and he’s awfully brave. Just as brave as Reddy.”
Gaye looked surprised. She studied Trixie a moment and then demanded with a frown, “How do you know?” She leaned over, put her arm around the poodle, and drew him close to her as she stared into Trixie’s face.
“Why, the other day in our orchard, when he ran after Reddy, I saw Mr. Poo actually try to attack a snake, all by himself, till I called him off! It was the bravest thing!” Trixie said earnestly.
“Really?” Gaye’s eyes sparkled, and she smiled at Trixie with real warmth for the first time. “An honest-to-goodness real snake?”
“I should say it was! A poisonous one!” Trixie answered her gravely. “But Mr. Poo wasn’t the least bit scared of it, though it coiled and hissed at him.”
“Oh-h!” Gaye shuddered. Then she gave the poodle a hug and laid her cheek tenderly against his fluffy topknot. “He is awfully brave. He’s not afraid of anything. He’s my best friend, and we love each other.” The poodle licked the tip of her nose, as if he agreed, and then barked happily.
They helped Gaye to her feet. Though she seemed a little unsteady for a moment, she got over it at once, and she and Bobby were soon running hand in hand up the driveway.
“That story about Mr. Poodle Poo attacking the snake is pure fiction, and we know it!” Mart grinned as he shook a warning finger at Trixie.
“Well, he was walking straight toward it when I called him back. He could have been going to attack it,” Trixie admitted with a giggle. “Anyhow, I made her feel a little friendlier. I actually got a smile from her!”
“So, Mart, my lad”—Brian waved his hand—“Trixie didn’t really fib. It was like your telling Di that you did all right in that math exam last week, when actually you only passed by the skin of your teeth!”
Mart flushed as the. girls giggled and Jim fought back a smile. They all knew that he was anxious to have Di admire him. It was obvious that he couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment, but when his eyes fell on the horses tied to the fence post, he scowled at Trixie and nodded toward them. “I’d hate to be in your shoes, Miss Trixie Belden, if Regan sees where you left Susie, standing in the wind!”
“Gleeps! Thanks for reminding me, Mart,” Trixie said hastily. “Come on, Honey. We’ll do our duty, even though we’re fainting from fatigue!” She gave the boys a hopeful look.
“Not a chance,” Brian said promptly. “You roped us into doing your work for you yesterday. Today you do it yourself!” Jim agreed, with a vigorous nod and a twinkle in his eye at Trixie’s disappointed pout.
“Okay,” she said with a heavy sigh of resignation. “But if I should faint from exhaustion, you’ll have to finish.”
“Oh, no! Don’t be a copycat, sister dear!” Brian chuckled. “It’s a good act only when Gaye does it!”
“You mean she didn’t really knock herself unconscious just now? She was only making believe?” Trixie asked, her cheeks beginning to burn and her blue eyes flashing.
Brian grinned and pretended to stroke an imaginary beard. “Doctors never tell,” he said in as deep a voice as he could manage.
“I wondered about that.” Honey giggled. “She could not have fallen hard enough. I think she was a little stunned, and when she heard Trixie calling us, she just couldn’t resist acting a little.”
“She certainly fooled me!” Trixie said angrily.
“I wouldn’t let it upset me if I were you,” Jim said gently. “You’re a friend of Gaye’s now, because you said kind things about the puppy. And from what I’ve seen of the poor kid, she needs friends.”
“I suppose so,” Trixie admitted. Then she smiled. “At least I know now that prodigies have some feelings.”
“She adores that little dog,” Honey commented as she and Trixie were grooming their horses a few minutes later. “Look at her and Bobby romping up there with him now.”
Trixie looked up toward the wide expanse of lawn. Gaye was chasing Bobby across the lawn, with Mr. Poo running at their heels. They were laughing and shouting. “Bobby.’s having the time of his life,” Trixie said a little wistfully and went back to her job.
Honey looked at her mischievously. “There’s green in those blue eyes, Miss Belden!” She laughed, but the laugh stopped as she looked up toward the romping youngsters again. “Oh, dear, wouldn’t you know it?” she said disgustedly. “Here comes trouble!”
Trixie looked and nodded agreement. Miss Crandall had suddenly emerged from the house and was stalking after Gaye. They watched her corner Gaye and then take her firmly by the arm and lead her into the house. The little dog romped after them, and the door was closed in Bobby’s face. He stood looking at the closed door for a long moment and then turned with an aimless air and wandered over toward the garage, where the boys were talking to Regan.
“The course of true love,” Honey said lightly, “has hit a detour.”
But Trixie, although she smiled a little at Honey’s joking remark, looked serious a moment afterward. “I guess,” she told Honey, “when a person is a prodigy, it’s wrong to have fun and want to play like ordinary people. I’m glad I’m not gifted. It must be sort of like being in a prison.”
“I suppose that’s how it seems to Gaye, but maybe Miss Crandall is really worried about Gaye’s health and thinks she’s better off resting than running around, getting even more tired than she’s been.” Honey tried to see the other side of it, though her sympathy was with Gaye.
A little later, as Trixie helped her mother prepare the late Sunday afternoon dinner, she found that Mrs. Belden agreed with Honey.
“Gaye must be quite a handful for her aunt,” Mrs. Belden told Trixie. “I hope she won’t get any more ideas of hiding from Miss Crandall the way she did yesterday. I’m glad that was all straightened out so there won’t be any silly stories in the paper about ‘kidnapping’ her.”
“I’m glad, too,” Trixie admitted. “I was worried over what that reporter said to us about a stunt to sell tickets. He almost said I had thought it up and the Bob-Whites were mixed up in it.”
“People say things when
they’re angry—or humiliated, as he apparently was by Sergeant Rooney’s teasing him,” Mrs. Belden explained gently. “I’m sure he didn’t mean half of it.”
“He sounded as if he did,” Trixie said stubbornly, “and this morning he tried to make a big thing out of it to Miss Crandall, and she almost believed him.”
“I’m sure Honey’s father settled all that for good. Stop thinking about it. It’s all over.”
Trixie was almost able to believe that—until she came down to breakfast the next morning.
The Twisted Story ● 15
MORNING, EVERYBODY,” Trixie said cheerfully, bouncing into the kitchen and dropping her books and sweater on the chair by the door so she could grab them and run for the bus when it was due.
Her father and mother and the boys were all at the table, eating quietly. Only her mother managed a subdued “Good morning, dear.”
Trixie looked around at them. “What’s wrong?”
Mart nodded glumly toward her place. “Look at your little surprise. Second column, front page.”
It was only then that she noticed the morning newspaper lying across her plate. She dashed to pick it up and look where Mart had told her to.
The heading was GAYE GOES FOR A RIDE. Trixie gasped and looked weakly around the table. Bobby was the only one who wasn’t watching her. He was busy eating.
Mr. Belden said sternly, “I don’t know what you said or did to antagonize the young man who wrote that column, but it seems to have had a bad effect.”
Trixie sank into her chair and bent her head over the paper. She read silently for a couple of minutes, then read the last paragraph of the article over again out loud, hardly believing it.
“ ‘Miss Trixie Belden of Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School took a prominent part in the finding of the missing child. Miss Belden, age thirteen, has acquired quite a reputation for solving mysteries. It is even rumored that the Bob-Whites of the Glen, an exclusive group at the school, are thinking of changing their name to The Belden Private Eyes and specializing in publicity stunts for a selected list of clients. Miss Trixie “Sherlock Holmes” Belden is their president, as it happens.’
The Marshland Mystery Page 11
