“We can tell Mr. Maypenny about it,” Honey suggested. “He can come back wearing gloves and examine it, and then bury it. That’s actually his job, as Daddy’s gamekeeper.”
“That’s a good idea,” Trixie said. “Let’s go.” The girls found the old man in surprisingly good spirits, although he did seem happy to see them. He offered the girls glasses of lemonade and settled down on the front porch to talk.
“I was sorry to see David go,” Mr. Maypenny said. “He is my only relative, after all. I was looking forward to getting to know him better, to having him come to visit once in a while. But once he started trying to take away my independence, why, I wasn’t about to put up with that!”
Trixie nodded. “I understand. I know you’re disappointed that things didn’t work out with David. But it isn’t as if you didn’t have any other family. You do-all the Wheelers and Beldens and Dan and Di.”
Mr. Maypenny nodded. “That’s right,” he agreed. “If I were a lonely old coot, with nobody to talk to, with nobody who cared about me, I suppose I might be willing to sign my life away to my nephew just to keep him around. But since I’m not, I won’t. And that’s that.”
Something in Mr. Maypenny’s tone told the girls that he had said as much on the subject as he wanted to.
“Oh, Mr. Maypenny,” Honey said, “we found a dead duck lying on the trail on the way over here.”
“You didn’t touch it, did you?” Mr. Maypenny asked sharply.
Trixie felt herself blushing, remembering how close she had come to doing just that, but Honey quickly said, “No, we didn’t. We just made a note to remember to tell you about it.”
Mr. Maypenny stood up. “I’ll get some gloves and a shovel,” he said. “Then we’ll go see about it. I hope we don’t have any out-of-season hunters hanging around here.”
Mr. Maypenny saddled Brownie, his ancient but sturdy mare, and started down the path. Brownie never went faster than a dignified walk, and Susie and Strawberry pranced impatiently behind her. Trixie and Honey spent their time controlling their horses and their desire to giggle until the little party finally arrived at the spot where the two girls had seen the duck.
“It’s gone!” Trixie exclaimed, jumping down from Susie’s back.
“Oh, Trixie, it is!” Honey said.
“Are you sure this is where you saw it?” Mr. Maypenny asked impatiently. “Maybe you just misplaced the spot, the way I did with that tree the other day.”
Trixie shook her head. “This is the spot, Mr. Maypenny. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope some animal didn’t drag it off and eat it,” Honey said. “It could be poisonous.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Mr. Maypenny said. “Animals are pretty smart about what’s good for them and what isn’t. If some animal dragged it off to eat, it probably knew what it was doing.”
Trixie had been examining the ground where the duck had been. She stood up triumphantly. “The animal that dragged that duck off was wearing waffle-stomper boots,” she said. “There are tracks all around here, and they disappear into the woods.”
“Then it must have been one of the boys,” Honey concluded, sounding relieved.
Trixie nodded. “Is Dan out patrolling today, Mr. Maypenny?” she asked.
“He’s patrolling,” the old man said, “but I don’t think he was in this part of the preserve.“
“Brian and Mart and Jim all said they had chores to do at home,” Trixie mused.
Honey laughed. “Oh, Trix, I know what you’re trying to do. You’re going to turn this into a mystery—‘The Mystery of the Missing Duck.’ There are lots of perfectly good explanations for why that duck is gone. The boys might have decided to take a break from their chores. Or they might have decided to ride through this way to get something from Mr. Lytell’s store. Or Dan might have patrolled this way after all. Let’s not turn it into a mystery yet.”
Once again Trixie blushed. Honey was her most loyal friend, and she was as interested in mysteries as Trixie was. If she thought Trixie was getting carried away, imagining a mystery where none existed, then it must be true. “We can ask our brothers about it tonight,” she said. “It probably was one of them.”
“I’ll check with Dan, too, when he comes in,” Mr. Maypenny said. “If he did take the duck, I’ll make sure he tells you about it on the bus tomorrow. I could even send him over tonight, if you think you’ll be losing sleep over this mysterious disappearance,” the gamekeeper added, his eyes twinkling.
Trixie laughed, realizing that the joke was on her and her love of mysteries. “I think I’ll be all right, Mr. Maypenny,” she said in mock seriousness.
“Then I’ll be getting back to work,” Mr. Maypenny said. “Thank you, girls, for coming to visit today. I do appreciate it.”
“We enjoyed it as much as you did,” Honey said. “We’ll see you later.”
When the girls got back to the Wheeler stable, Trixie noted that Jupiter, the horse Jim usually rode, was in his stall. “Jim isn’t out riding now,” she told Honey.
Honey rolled her eyes. “I’ll ask him about the duck when I see him, Trixie. I promise.”
“And I promise to drop the subject,” Trixie said. Suddenly she remembered what Di had told her about a possible vacation in the Midwest. She relayed the information to Honey, and as the girls rubbed down the horses and cleaned the tack, they talked about when and how they could manage to arrange a vacation for the Bob-Whites.
When Trixie got home, her older brothers were nowhere to be seen. Bobby, however, was very much present, and he kept her busy until dinner time.
At the table, talk turned, as it always seemed to, to the International Pine controversy. Brian had been practicing for the next day’s debate, and he asked the family if they would listen to him practice later that evening.
“I’d consider it a privilege to be permitted to preview the—uh—” Mart paused, stumped for another word beginning with p.
“We’d love to listen to the debate,” Trixie interrupted. “Have you been working on it ever since you got home from school?”
Brian nodded.
“Then you weren’t in the preserve today?” she asked.
Brian shook his head. “One of the ancient Greek orators used to practice speaking by shouting over the noise of the waves at the seashore, but I hadn’t thought about yelling my arguments into the trees. Is that what you’re getting at?”
Trixie giggled at the mental image of Brian standing in the preserve reciting his speech. “Honey and I found a dead duck by the path when we were riding out to Mr. Maypenny’s today. We went back with him to bury it, but it was gone. I'was just wondering whether you or Mart had been out there.”
“As I said, I was practicing in my room all afternoon,” Brian said.
“The materfamilias inundated me with domestic endeavors,” Mart added.
“Hmmm,” Trixie mused.
Mart looked at his sister. “Quick,” he said, abandoning his big vocabulary. “Let’s clear the table and listen to Brian’s debate. Fill our sibling’s head with other thoughts before it fills
with thoughts of mystery!”
Sighing, Trixie stood up. “All right, all right. Jim or Dan must have taken the duck. I’ll give up the Mystery of the Disappearing Duck and devote myself to the Disappearing Dishes instead.”
Uproar in the Auditorium ● 7
AT ONE O’CLOCK the next afternoon, Trixie waited for Honey outside the school auditorium. When her friend finally appeared, Trixie waved excitedly, grabbed her arm, and tugged her toward the open door.
“Hurry up!” Trixie urged. “I want to be sure we get good seats for the debate. I hope Brian isn’t as nervous about it as I am. If he is, he won’t be able to say a word!”
“You don’t seem to be speechless, exactly,” Honey said, giggling, “but I know what you mean. I could no more stand up in front of the school and make a speech than I could fly.”
Trixie spotted two seats on the aisle an
d led Honey to them. When they were settled, Trixie said, “The thing that makes this superscary is the fact that the International Pine controversy is so—well, so controversial. No matter what anybody says here today, there are going to be some people in the audience who won’t like it.” Honey’s hazel eyes widened. “Oh, Trix, I hadn’t thought of that!” she exclaimed. “You and I know that Brian took the affirmative side of the argument just because he thought it should be given a fair hearing. The other students won’t know that. He really could be getting himself in trouble! Has Brian thought of that?”
Trixie nodded. “You know Brian. He thinks of everything. Daddy asked him last night, after we’d listened to his speech, if he realized how many enemies he might have before this afternoon is over. Brian just nodded in that solemn way of his and said it was a chance he had to take.”
Honey shuddered. “Couldn’t he just say at the beginning of the debate that he hasn’t really taken sides?” she asked.
Trixie shook her head. “I asked him about that last night, too. He says that the point of a debate is to be as convincing as possible. That means you have to sound as though you absolutely believe every word you say. He said a disclaimer—that’s what he called it—would make his arguments all sound less convincing.”
Before Honey could say anything more, Mr. McLane, Brian’s social studies teacher, walked out onto the stage. Trixie had been too busy talking to Honey to pay any attention to the stage. Now she saw that the front curtain was down so that only the narrow front part of the stage could be used. There was a small table with two chairs on either side of the stage, and a lectern and microphone had been set up in the middle.
Mr. McLane turned on the microphone, tapped it to make sure that it was working, and then began to speak. “I’m glad to see that so many of my fellow teachers allowed their classes to attend this afternoon’s debate,” he said. “I think that hearing both sides of the International Pine issue will be very educational for all of us.
“There’s another reason that I’m glad to see so many students here this afternoon,” Mr. McLane continued, with a smile. “As you know, I am also the coach of the debate team here at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High. The debate season will be starting in a couple of weeks. I sincerely hope that many of you watching the debate today will try out for the team. I feel that the debate today will be excellent training for any kind of public speaking you might be called on to do, whether you become a teacher, lawyer, politician, or business person.”
“Do you think detectives need public speaking experience, Honey?” Trixie whispered.
Honey clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “It certainly might be helpful for all those times when we have to talk our way out of trouble with our parents and Sergeant Molinson for getting involved in solving mysteries,” she whispered back.
On stage, Mr. McLane cleared his throat. “So much for my little commercial,” he said. “Before we get started, I want to tell you something about the structure of a debate, since many of you have never attended one before.
“First, the definition of terms: The issue to be debated is called the ‘resolution.’ In this case, it is ‘Resolved: That the International Pine Company Be Allowed to Expand their Factory Operations Within the Town of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, New York.’
“Two students, Brian Belden and Mark Nelson, will take the affirmative side of the question. Two other students, Todd Maurer and Jim VerDoorn, will take the negative.
“Each side will have the chance to present its case and to present a rebuttal of the other side’s case. Ordinarily, a regulation debate would take a full hour. Today, however, to give you time to get to your next classes, each speech has been cut down so that the total time will be only fifty minutes.”
Mr. McLane looked off into the wings and beckoned. Brian and the other three debaters walked out, sat down at the tables, and laid out their notes and papers.
“You may begin, gentlemen,” Mr. McLane said. He turned and walked off the stage.
The students, many of whom had never seen a debate, were unsure how to react. There was a smattering of applause, which did not really take hold, followed by nervous giggles.
Finally, Brian got up and walked to the microphone. “Good afternoon,” he said. “My partner and I are pleased to be here today to address the resolution. The question of whether or not International Pine should be allowed to expand in Sleepyside is not an easy one. Certainly there are arguments—strong arguments—on either side. What my partner and I hope to prove, however, is that the economic advantages to the community outweigh whatever ecological loss is involved in the conversion of this small parcel of land from natural to industrial use.
“I think it’s important, as we begin this debate, to have in our minds some very important facts and figures,” Brian continued. “These are statistics that represent the economic status of Sleepyside. To some of you, they are only facts and figures. To others of you, whose parents may have lost jobs recently, or who may be talking about leaving Sleepyside in order to find better jobs, they are more than facts and figures. They are a threat to your home life. They represent the possibility that you may have to leave the town where you grew up and where your friends are. They may represent a threat to your future, if your parents find that they don’t have the money to help you go to college. Here are some of those statistics.”
As Brian went on, listing the increased figures in unemployment and welfare, Trixie felt a rush of pride in her older brother. His low, quiet voice made him sound older than seventeen. If he felt any nervousness, it didn’t show in his manner. He stood straight, his hands resting on the podium, his dark brown eyes looking directly at people in the audience.
“And that,” Brian concluded, “is the story of the need for industrial development in Sleepyside. My partner will tell you how the expansion of International Pine will aid in that development. Thank you.”
Brian turned, walked back to his table, and sat down. For a moment, Trixie felt upset that nobody was applauding. Then she became aware of the deep silence that had fallen over the auditorium, and she realized that that silence was a greater compliment than applause would have been. Brian had the entire audience deeply interested in this debate. Everyone was waiting to hear more.
Todd Mauer was the first speaker for the negative team in the debate. Trixie had seen him in the halls, and she had read his name in the school paper. Todd was a member of the regular debate team at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High, and he and his partner had gone all the way to the state tournament the preceding year. For a moment, she found herself rooting against him in her mind. Then she stopped herself. Brian hadn’t decided to take part in this debate because he wanted to win. He just wanted both sides to have a fair say. Brian would be hoping that Todd did a good job—and so should she. She forced herself to relax and sit back in her chair.
“Thank you, Brian,” Todd said. “The facts and figures you presented were very interesting. What interested me most was a phrase you used very early in your speech. You said that the economic problems in Sleepyside represented a ‘threat.’ Well, as far as my partner and I are concerned, it’s the expansion of International Pine that represents a threat—a threat to our way of life, and a threat to life itself.”
In spite of herself and her loyalty to Brian, Trixie was impressed. Brian’s speech had been good, but it had all been prepared in advance. It had been exactly the same the night before, when she’d listened to him practice it, as it had been today in the auditorium. But Todd must have come up with that introduction right on the spot, after he’d heard Brian’s speech.
“Those of you who grew up in Sleepyside, as I did—and as Brian Belden did, I believe—have been very lucky,” Todd continued. “We have been able to fish, to hunt. We have been able to enjoy a picnic on the spur of the moment, without having to drive for miles to someplace with trees and grass. We have been able to enjoy the more relaxed pace of small-town living. Any of you who have eve
r visited New York, with its pollution, its high rate of violent crime, and its pressures, will appreciate the difference.”
As Todd went on to talk about the beauty of the wild areas around Sleepyside, Trixie could hear a buzz start in the auditorium. Todd was winning them over to his side, she realized, but it wasn’t with carefully gathered statistics and facts such as Brian had used. It was an appeal to their emotions. This wasn’t the fair airing of both sides that Brian had wanted, she thought angrily. Todd only wanted to make the best showing in the debate.
She grew angrier and angrier as she listened. When Todd finished, the audience began to applaud. Trixie realized that her jaw was clenched and that she was gripping the arms of her chair. She forced herself to relax and folded her hands in her lap.
“That wasn’t fair, Trixie!” Honey whispered hoarsely.
Trixie nodded her agreement, her eyes fixed on the stage where Brian’s partner, Mark Nelson, was walking slowly to the lectern. Even from where she was sitting, Trixie could see that the papers in the boy’s hand were shaking. She felt sorry for Mark, having to follow a speech like Todd’s, but at the same time she hoped he’d do well.
“When my partner began his speech, he told you that he was going to present some facts and figures about Sleepyside. That’s exactly what he did,” Mark began. “The first negative speaker didn’t present any facts and figures. Instead, he presented flights of fancy. He’d have us believe that the expansion of International Pine on ten acres of land would totally take away our access to nature. If you stop and think about that, even for a moment, you’ll realize that it’s simply not the case. It isn’t all of nature. It’s ten acres—ten acres out of thousands. It’s ten acres that can provide two hundred jobs.”
Trixie suddenly realized that she’d been holding her breath. She let it out in a long, relieved sigh. Mark was doing exactly what he should, she thought. He was getting the debate back on the track. As she listened, Mark talked about the proposed expansion. Like Brian, he had done a lot of research. He knew how many acres of land International Pine wanted. He knew how many jobs they could provide. He knew how much the company would pay to the town of Sleepyside and to the state in taxes each year.
The Mystery at Maypenny's Page 6
