“Oh, you don’t have to pay us!” cried Trixie. “Why, this is really a super vacation for us!”
“Trixie’s absolutely right,” Brian agreed. “You’ve always done so much for the Bob-Whites, sir. We’d love the opportunity to repay you a little.”
Honey’s mother smiled. “You knew they’d feel that way, didn’t you, Matthew?”
“Yes, I did,” said Mr. Wheeler, “but I also know that that team of professionals simply won’t be able to give me the young person’s opinion I need.”
“You really need us?” Di asked, her violet eyes widening with disbelief.
“I certainly do,” Mr. Wheeler insisted. “But I’ve thought of an alternative proposal to paying you a salary. Honey and Jim have told me you’ve been thinking of selling the Bob-Whites’ car because of the high insurance payment. I would be happy to make this year’s payment for you if you’ll only do this favor for me.”
“Mr. Wheeler, you’re sensational!” squealed Di.
“I just knew things would work out!” Trixie said triumphantly.
“But, Dad,” Jim said hesitantly, “you know we hate to take money unless we earn it.”
“You’ll earn it—don’t worry about that,” said Mr. Wheeler heartily. “Wait till you see my lists of questions and points to look for. And I expect a detailed, typed report within the week after you get back. So, is it a deal, pending parental approval, of course?” he asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
“It’s a deal!” chorused the Bob-Whites.
“Come on, let’s go see what our folks say,” urged Trixie.
Then Dan, who had been unusually silent for a while, spoke up. “I can give you my answer now,” he said sadly. “I’m afraid I can’t go. I promised Judge Harding I’d spend the vacation working with the young kids from the juvenile home.”
Someday Dan hoped to be a policeman so he could work full time with kids in trouble. He spent as much time as he could, between studying and helping out on the game preserve, working with children and their problems. He had come a long way since the days when he had been a scared, hostile problem himself.
“Oh, Dan, it won’t be nearly as much fun without you,” complained Di.
“And you skate so well—you’d probably have a ball on skis,” Jim said.
“I’m sure those little kids will be happy to have you, though,” added Honey.
“I’m sorry you can’t make it, Dan,” said Mr. Wheeler. “We’ll have to make sure you get up there sometime next year. Will the rest of you let me know as soon as possible, please?”
It wasn’t long before Trixie was able to phone Honey with the news that the Beldens had permission to go.
“Do you know that your sneaky father called Moms this morning and told her his whole plan?” Trixie asked. “She and my dad knew all along and didn’t say anything!”
“You’re kidding!” Honey exclaimed. “Who would have guessed our parents could keep secrets so well?”
“It’s a good thing your dad didn’t let Bobby in on the secret,” Trixie commented, “or it would have been let out of the bag ages ago.”
“Oh, Trixie, I’m so excited I can hardly sit still,” Honey rushed on. “Di just called to say she can come. Imagine—a whole week in the mountains!”
“Gleeps, Honey, I’m so excited I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next week! Are we going to need any special clothes or equipment?”
“Daddy says we will probably spend most of the time cross-country skiing,” Honey replied. “He’s going to go over all the details with Jim and me tonight so we can fill the rest of you in tomorrow.”
“Cross-country skiing? I’ve never done that before. Neither have Brian and Mart,” said Trixie in a dubious tone.
“Jim and I haven’t either, but Daddy says we’ll catch on in no time,” Honey assured her. “We’ll be able to rent skis there, but we’ll have to bring our own ski clothes. Long underwear, ski pants, sweaters, and a windbreaker—you know, lightweight stuff. Oh, and Daddy says to bring a swimsuit, too, because there’s a pool at the lodge.”
“Wow! Say, Honey, do you think we’ll need a dress?” Trixie asked hesitantly. She really hated to get dressed up.
“Gee, I don’t think so,” Honey replied, glad to set her friend at ease. “You could throw in some extra jeans to wear around the lodge.”
“Whew!” said Trixie. “I’ve got to go now. Bobby’s ready for bed, and I have to read him to sleep. Lucky for me, he’s really tired from helping Moms with the bazaar this afternoon.”
“He is such a doll,” Honey said. “You’re lucky to have a little brother, Trixie.”
“I know he can be awfully cute at times, but other times he can be a real pest! I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow.”
As Trixie hung up the phone, a slow smile crossed her lips. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone yet, but she had a hunch that the so-called ghost of Mead’s Mountain held the promise of a new mystery waiting for her.
Swirls in the Snow • 2
THE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS flew by. Almost before Trixie knew it, she and the rest of her family were cleaning up after the Belden open house the day after Christmas. The party had been fun, but Trixie had been afraid that clean-up time, and thus departure time, would never arrive. Besides, she couldn’t wait to change out of the party dress she found so uncomfortable and into jeans and a sweater.
Finally, she was free to go finish her packing. She was just asking Brian to help her get her suitcase shut, when they heard the doorbell ring. It was Tom Delanoy, the Wheelers’ chauffeur, who had the rest of the Bob-Whites and Miss Trask outside in the car and was taking them all to the airport.
Trixie, Brian, and Mart bounded downstairs to the front door, where they exchanged farewell hugs with their parents and Bobby. The youngest Belden was unhappy with his siblings for “deserting” him during Christmas vacation.
“But think how much fun you’ll have with your presents,” Trixie said, giving Bobby an extra squeeze. “Especially your books. Maybe by the time we get back, you’ll be able to read yourself to sleep!”
Bobby brightened a bit, and Mrs. Belden laughed. “Dan said he’d stop over to visit Bobby,” she said. “But that’s no excuse for you three not to hurry back soon. Have a safe trip!”
Waving and laughing, the Belden trio went outside and squeezed into the already crowded car. “Would anyone like to see my imitation of a sardine?” Mart asked rhetorically.
When Tom pulled the car up to the airport, Bob Murphy, Mr. Wheeler’s congenial pilot, came out to greet them. “I’m glad to see the famous Bob-Whites again,” he said, winking at Miss Trask.
“I’m going along with them to make sure they don’t become notorious, Bob,” bantered Miss Trask, who looked as trim as ever in her sturdy winter coat and sensible boots.
Bob asked them to sign in on the plane’s log, and Trixie dutifully filled in her name and address. “What shall I write under ‘purpose of trip’?” she wondered.
“Investigative team to analyze ski resort in order to facilitate business negotiations,” Mart suggested.
“Don’t be silly, Mart,” Trixie giggled. “I could never spell all those ridiculous words.”
“I knew we should have given you a dictionary for Christmas instead of ski pants,” he muttered.
“You probably can’t spell it any better than I can,” Trixie retorted hotly. “Brian, will you fill this in?” Brian took the pencil and said, “Mart, I’ll guarantee our sister will get far more use out of the ski pants than she would from a dictionary. Hey, next it asks for ‘name of company.’ ”
“The Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency,” Trixie told him pertly.
Jim and Mart hooted. “Better make that ‘Schoolgirl Shamuses and Company,’ ” Mart scoffed.
“I’ll just write in ‘Bob-White Investigators,’ ” said Brian diplomatically.
When they all crowded into the small airplane, Trixie asked Bob if she could sit next to him for a w
hile. She was curious to see what the pilot’s view would be during takeoff, especially at night.
Bob seemed to appreciate her interest and waved her toward the large, comfortable seat next to him in the cockpit. In front of their seats were the small control wheel and instrument panel. There were so many dials and gauges on the panel that it almost made Trixie dizzy to look at it.
Over the radio came a voice from the control tower, giving them clearance for takeoff. As the little plane surged down the runway, gaining speed with every foot, Trixie felt as though the plane were melting away and she were flying all by herself. Then she realized that it was the ground that was melting away.
They were airborne without her being aware that they had even left the ground.
Trixie listened to the roaring of the engines in front of her and the hum of the Bob-Whites’ voices behind her. Except for the blue runway lights reflecting a path in the white snow, the entire world was black. Slowly the blue lights, too, faded from sight, and the blackness completely enfolded Trixie.
Jeepers, she thought. It’s so peaceful and lovely up here. There’s a kind of warmth and safeness about everything being so completely dark.
Bob broke into her thoughts. “We’re about leveled off, Trixie. Would you like to fly for a while?”
“What? Me fly? Really? But I don’t know how!” Trixie fluttered.
“At this point, there’s nothing to it,” Bob said reassuringly. “You just hold the control wheel and keep the plane going straight ahead. You pull back to ascend and push forward to descend. Turn the wheel to the left for a left bank, to the right for a right bank. It’s a lot like driving a car, except there’s no reverse and the streets aren’t as crowded.”
“I can’t drive a car either,” Trixie told the pilot truthfully.
“No problem,” insisted Bob. “Flying a plane can be easier. We have to stay at this level and on this course, unless we get permission to change or there’s an emergency. That’s required by safety regulations and sky courtesy.”
Under Bob’s guidance, Trixie tried each of the basic maneuvers. Abruptly he said, “Just keep it on course, Trixie. I’m going to get a cup of coffee from Miss Trask.”
Trixie forced a laugh. “You’re joking.”
“Nope—you’re doing great! Don’t worry, though, I’m not going to leave my seat. Do you want anything?”
Trixie shook her head, and Bob turned around in his seat to talk to Miss Trask. Then it dawned on Trixie that she was flying all by herself. She alone was steering the plane into the endless stretch of darkness ahead.
Maybe I should add learning to fly to my list of things I’m going to do someday, she thought.
Then, with no warning, the plane started to drop out of the sky!
Trixie stifled a scream. Now, don’t panic, she told herself as she slowly pulled back on the controls.
Nothing happened.
Okay, now you can panic, she decided, opening her mouth to yell for Bob and pulling harder on the controls.
But Bob was already taking over the control wheel. Again without warning, the plane leveled off and seemed to bounce back up into the sky.
Whew!’ Trixie breathed as she sank back into her seat. She was pale and shaking. “I thought we were goners! You can’t imagine what an awful feeling that is.”
You did fine, Trixie,” Bob said cheerfully. “That was terrific the way you didn’t panic.”
Trixie blushed to the roots of her hair. “I was panicking plenty,” she protested.
“We just ran into a downdraft,” he told her. “That’s a small downward current of air. They aren’t particularly dangerous, but they are scary. They never last more than a few seconds, though.”
“A few seconds?” Trixie almost choked. “That one had to last at least five minutes!”
Bob just chuckled. “We are heading into more turbulence. This may turn into a rough ride. Why don’t you go back with the others and have something to drink?” he suggested.
Trixie gave him no argument. Joining the other Bob-Whites for hot tea, she good-naturedly agreed when they told her they were glad Bob had taken over the controls so quickly.
“Remind me to leave town the day you learn to drive a car,” Mart needled her. “Your idea of navigation leaves something to be desired.” His eyes told her he admired her spirit, though.
“Bob didn’t think I was that bad a pilot,” Trixie defended herself.
“I notice he didn’t give you back the controls,” Brian chuckled.
“That’s because it looks like we’re heading into a storm,” Trixie told him. “Anyway, I think flying’s great... except for the downdrafts.”
Jim grinned at her and spoke up. “Before we land, let’s talk some more about what Dad expects of us. He sent along a little notebook and pen for each of us.” He passed them out. “We’re to write down anything that we notice, good or bad, immediately. He also wants us to make two lists: one of the things we like best about the place—”
“Let me guess,” broke in Di. “The other is the things we like the least.”
Jim nodded. “But we’re not to share our lists with each other. They are to be made independently. All of our other notes will be combined into one major report that we’ll give to Dad and Mr. Kimball with our recommendations. We’ll also meet with both of them and some of their advisers later, so Dad said to really make sure we know what we’re talking about.”
“Right,” said Miss Trask, gathering everyone’s plastic cups and stowing them in her flight bag. “This is a case where what you think can make a lot of difference.”
“Honey and I have decided that we can share the typing of the report,” Jim went on. “But we’ll all have to chip in when it comes to actually writing it.”
“Especially Mart,” Honey said warmly. “We may need words of more than one syllable.”
“I don’t see why,” said Trixie innocently. “We don’t want Mr. Wheeler to have to spend years deciphering our report.”
Before Mart could respond, Miss Trask reached into her bag and pulled out some travel folders. “I thought you all might find these interesting,” she said. “They’re about Vermont.”
“Swell,” said Brian, taking one. “We Beldens have never been to Vermont.”
“I did go to the library one morning before class and look Vermont up in the encyclopedia,” Trixie volunteered in a smug voice.
“Undoubtedly when you should have been studying for your math final,” remarked Mart.
Trixie ignored him. “The name comes from VertMont, the French words for GreenMountain. Vermont is nicknamed the Green Mountain State, too.” Miss Trask looked pleased. “The Green Mountains are part of the Appalachians, as are the Catskills around Sleepyside,” she informed them. “The mountain scenery makes Vermont one of the most beautiful states in the country.”
“I hope the mountains aren’t green when we get there,” Jim said lightly. “I’m counting on a little of the white stuff myself.”
“Don’t worry, Jim,” said Miss Trask. “The Green Mountains get between eighty and one hundred twenty inches of snow every year. The skiing season’s already started.”
“Say,” broke in Mart, “doesn’t it seem like the plane is losing altitude? We must be getting close.”
Sure enough, they had begun their plunge through the layers of black clouds. The little plane bounced from air current to air current as it descended into the storm.
Di grew pale. “My stomach can’t take much more of this,” she groaned.
“It won’t have to,” Honey reassured her. “I can see the runway lights now.”
“Hey, look!” Trixie cried. “It’s really snowing like mad. No wonder there was so much turbulence.”
The plane hit the ground, bounced back up, touched the ground again, and finally rolled to a stop. For a moment, they all stayed in their seats, taking in their first look at Groverville through the dense pattern of snow.
“At least this snow will make for
good skiing tomorrow,” Jim said, as Bob helped them all out of the plane.
“Sure, if it stops by then,” Mart grumbled.
“Yipes,” moaned Trixie. “After all this, you mean we’re going to be trapped inside the lodge the whole week?”
“Oh, Trixie, don’t worry,” Honey laughed. “The storm will pass, probably by morning. Daddy said he made arrangements for a rental car. Let’s find it.”
“That must be it over there,” Miss Trask said, pointing to a beige Volkswagen van parked in front of a sign reading RESERVED FOR RENTALS.
“I always thought this clan needed a tan van,” quipped Mart.
“That’s cute,” giggled Di. She picked up a handful of snow and threw it in the direction of the car. “I hereby christen you the Tan Van.”
Honey turned to Bob. “Are you coming to the lodge with us?” she asked. “Or may we drop you off somewhere?”
“I’m going to secure the plane and catch a cab to the nearest hotel. I’ve got to be back in town first thing tomorrow,” Bob said cordially as he handed them their luggage from the plane’s hold. “I’ll see you next week. Have a great time, kids, and you, too, Miss Trask.”
Twenty minutes later, Miss Trask was pulling off the main highway and onto the steep winding road that led to the lodge. The snow was falling harder now, making it difficult to see the road. Miss Trask, a superb driver, shifted into low gear and slowly maneuvered her way up the hill. Everyone in the car was silent, letting her concentrate on driving.
Trixie stared out her window, watching the wind swirl the snow around the trees along the side of the road. It looked so cold and unfriendly outside that she pulled her parka tighter around her and started snuggling down into the seat.
Suddenly, one of the swirls seemed to take form— the form of a human being! Trixie jerked up and pressed her face against the window. Was the wind playing tricks on her, or was there a person out in this awful storm?
The Mystery at Mead's Mountain Page 2
