The Red Trailer Mystery

by Julie Campbell

  But she didn’t. The swim and the big lunch made her so sleepy she couldn’t keep her eyes open. When she woke up, they had stopped at the entrance to a large trailer park and Honey was rubbing her eyes and yawning.

  “Oh, dear,” she sighed ruefully. “We both fell asleep. Here we are at Autoville.”

  After Miss Trask had made arrangements with the proprietor for space and use of water and electrical connections, she drove the Swan down past a long line of parked trailers to the stand she had rented. Trixie and Honey jumped out, followed by the dogs.

  “Why, this is a regular resort,” Trixie said, staring around her. Every stand had a tiny, flower-bordered lawn of its own, and in the middle of the landscaped park was an enormous swimming pool.

  “That’s right,” Honey said. “Some people live here all the year round. They have oil burners and everything in their trailers.”

  A uniformed attendant backed the Swan into its section of the auto village, and after giving Miss Trask a receipt, drove the tow car off to a parking lot.

  “The tow cars,” Miss Trask explained, “are parked so you can sit in them and watch the outdoor movies. And just beyond that area is the riding academy where you girls can rent horses.”

  “This is going to be fun,” Trixie began excitedly and then stopped as a state trooper on a motorcycle appeared at the entrance to Autoville. “Honey,” she finished in a gasp. “You were right! He’s looking for Joeanne.”

  After talking to the proprietor, the trooper walked slowly along the road that encircled the park and swimming pool, stopping at each trailer to ask questions. When he arrived at the Swan, he said to Miss Trask, “We’re searching for a stolen trailer, lady. If you happened to notice a large red one on the road anywhere, it would be a big help. Here are the license numbers.”

  Miss Trask frowned as he handed her a slip of paper. “I’m not good at remembering numbers,” she said.

  Trixie, appalled at the thought that Joeanne’s family was riding around in a stolen trailer, suddenly felt sorry for the shaggy-haired man. There must be some mistake, she decided. If he had stolen the Robin he wouldn’t have parked in public camps where he could easily be traced. And people who steal trailers don’t go riding around in the open, taking their children with them.

  “But,” Miss Trask continued to the trooper, “we did see a big red trailer at the picnic grounds about twenty miles north of Poughkeepsie.”

  “There are lots of red trailers in the world,” Trixie said quickly.

  “And the one we saw couldn’t have been stolen,” Honey added. “The man who was driving the tow car had all his family with him.”

  The trooper shrugged. “Well, I guess that wasn’t the one then. This is the fourth trailer theft reported in the last couple of weeks. And in each case we’ve found the trailer abandoned on a side road a short time after it was stolen.”

  “How peculiar,” Miss Trask said. “Why should anybody steal something and then abandon it?”

  The trooper frowned. “Not so peculiar as you might think. Whoever steals these trailers—and we suspect a gang—strips the interiors of everything valuable before he abandons them. People are awfully careless with trailers,” he went on. “They’re so big and so easily recognized, the owners feel confident nobody would try to steal them any more than a thief would try to steal a house. You’d be surprised how many people leave their keys in the tow car and go off for hours. All the thief has to do is drive into some isolated spot, transfer the trailer equipment to his truck and drive away again.” He shrugged in disgust. “The guy who owned the red trailer we’re looking for now, left it hitched up, all ready to go, in his garage and left town for a week. He came back sooner than he had planned and now he’s yelling, ‘Help, help!’ to us.”

  “He certainly invited trouble,” Miss Trask agreed. “And I’ll be very careful driving back with the Swan. Why, the fixtures in it must have cost several thousand dollars!”

  “That’s right,” the trooper said. “The last one we found abandoned was minus a radio, an electric dishwasher, stove and refrigerator, all brand new. There’s a smart gang back of these robberies. They haven’t attempted to sell any of the loot yet. We figure they’ll wait till the excitement dies down, then they’ll load up a truck and try to dispose of the stuff in some other state.” He tipped his cap and moved on to the next trailer. “Got to keep on with the routine questioning,” he said over his shoulder, “but I haven’t much hope of finding the Robin until after the nest has been robbed.”

  Miss Trask apparently had not heard him, but Honey and Trixie stared at each other. The Robin! Could there be two red trailers with that name?

  “Well, girls,” Miss Trask said, glancing at her wrist watch, “it’s getting late. Let’s have dinner in the restaurant. You can start housekeeping in earnest tomorrow.”

  They strolled around the park to the big cafeteria which was really more of a clubhouse with a recreation room, library, and dance hall. Music was blaring from an electric record player and couples were dancing indoors and out on the wide screened porch. But Trixie hardly saw or heard anything. All she could think of was that the shaggy-haired man had stolen the Robin after all. And that meant he wouldn’t dare notify the police that Joeanne had run away. Where was the thin little girl now?

  Trixie shuddered. It was growing dark, and she must be all alone in the woods, hungry and frightened. Hardly realizing what she was doing, Trixie stacked dishes on her tray and followed Miss Trask and Honey to a table. But before she could reach the table, a waiter with a huge tray of stacked soiled dishes cut directly in front of her. Trixie tried to turn, but people in line behind her had crowded too close, and the waiter’s tray crashed right into Trixie’s.

  Trixie winced as hot spaghetti skidded along her bare arms, and then the stack of soiled dishes toppled to the cement floor with a deafening crash. Somebody near Trixie screamed and a man behind one of the counters yelled, “For Pete’s sake, Jeff, that’s the second time this week. You’re as good as fired.”

  The waiter scowled and turned on Trixie, spluttering with rage. “It was all your fault. You weren’t watching where you were going. You’ll have to pay for the damage, you stupid little fool!”

  Trixie gulped guiltily. She had been lost in thought, but the waiter certainly had no business cutting right in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she began but both Miss Trask and the manager had hurried to the scene.

  “All right, Jeff, all right, clean up this mess,” the manager said briskly.

  “We’ll be glad to pay for the damage,” Miss Trask told him.

  “It wasn’t the girl’s fault at all,” a man behind Trixie put in. “That waiter is a clumsy oaf.”

  Jeff’s face reddened and he shook one fist threateningly as he shouted, “The customer’s always right, but I’m not going to pay for this wreckage. You can’t make me.”

  Miss Trask slipped a bill from her purse but the manager waved it away. “That’s very kind of you, miss,” he said, “but I happened to see the whole thing and the young lady was not in the least to blame.” He added in an undertone to Jeff, “When you’ve cleaned up this mess come into my office. I’ve had about all the complaints I can take about you.”

  Jeff darted a malicious glance at Trixie, but set to work obeying the manager’s orders. Later when things had quieted down, he passed close behind her chair on his way to the office. “I’ll get back at you for this,” he hissed. “Just wait and see.”

  Trixie flushed, and Honey said quickly, “Don’t pay any attention to him.”

  “But I can’t help feeling guilty,” Trixie said. “I’m not sure it wasn’t partly my fault. I think I’d feel better if the manager let me pay for some of that broken china.”

  “Very well,” Miss Trask said. “Go and speak to him after dinner, but let’s eat now while things are hot.”

  When she had finished her pie and ice cream, Trixie pushed back her chair. “You don’t need to wait for me. I’ll meet yo
u back at the Swan.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Honey offered, and the two girls left the cafeteria together. They hurried across the lobby to the offices in the back. Trixie knocked on the door marked Manager, and it was opened by the manager himself.

  “I’d like to pay—” Trixie began, but he interrupted her with a smile and an apology.

  “That man Jeff has a quick temper, but he is very much ashamed of himself. I’m sorry there was such an unpleasant scene. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

  He bowed the girls out of the room and closed the door before Trixie could protest. “Well, that’s that,” she told Honey. “But I don’t think Jeff is the least bit ashamed of himself. He’s as mad at me as he can be.”

  They walked out of a side door to the veranda and waited for a minute to let their eyes get accustomed to the darkness before starting down the steps. From the shadows under the trees on the lawn came the sound of angry whispering, “You fool! Watch your step or you’ll get fired.”

  “I tell you it wasn’t my fault,” someone whined defensively. “And I’m getting sick of toting dirty dishes all day long. Why don’t we swap jobs?”

  Trixie clutched Honey’s arm. They had both recognized the whining voice. It was Jeff’s!

  “Swap jobs,” the other voice whispered derisively. “You haven’t got the skill to do my work. You’re too clumsy and you know it.” A man moved out of the shadows and across the lawn. As he passed through the patch of light in front of the cafeteria Trixie saw that he was about the same height and weight as Joeanne’s father and had a crop of thick bushy hair. Then he disappeared into the shadows again. In a minute Jeff came out from under the trees and hurried through the back door of the restaurant.

  Trixie and Honey went slowly down the steps and around the park. “It gets more and more mysterious every minute,” Trixie said. “Do you think the man Jeff was talking to is Joeanne’s father?”

  “It certainly looked like him,” Honey said. “And what do you suppose they were talking about?”

  “It didn’t make any sense to me,” Trixie admitted. “I’m all mixed up and so worried about that poor little girl all alone in the woods I can’t think straight.”

  “Neither can I,” Honey agreed. “The only good part of it is that while we’re looking for Jim we can look for her at the same time.”

  “That’s true,” Trixie said, cheering up a little. “Oh, Honey, we’ve just got to find them both!”

  Chapter 5

  On Jim’s Trail

  The next morning after breakfast Miss Trask spread out her map and marked the trails they should take to Pine Hollow Camp.

  “You can’t possibly get lost,” she told them. “At least not for long. All the bridle paths, you see, come out sooner or later onto one of the main highways. And those routes converge at a point about a mile north of here. The worst that can happen to you is that you may keep riding in circles.”

  “Neither one of us has any sense of direction,” Trixie laughed. “So just in case, let’s take along a picnic lunch.”

  “Wonderful,” Honey agreed.

  They made thick sandwiches of ham and cheese and filled a Thermos with iced cocoa. Then they set off for the riding academy. Trixie, who hadn’t been riding very long, wisely chose a quiet black horse named Prince. “I’m not taking any chances,” she said with a grin. “If we get into trouble, Miss Trask might make us go right back home.”

  “You’re right,” Honey said as she swung up on the back of a more frisky chestnut gelding named Peanuts. “I’m scared to death Mother may change her mind any minute and call the cafeteria saying she doesn’t want me riding around in the woods without an armed guard.”

  “It must be an awful nuisance being rich,” Trixie said as they trotted along the path to the woods. “Your parents are always worrying for fear you’ll be kidnaped and held for ransom, aren’t they?”

  “They used to be,” Honey said, “before Miss Trask came. She told Dad she thought it would be better to risk being kidnaped than to grow up different from other girls.”

  Trixie laughed. “Well, nobody would suspect you’re rich now. Your blue jeans are as faded as Joeanne’s and look at those big patches on the knees.”

  “That’s where I ripped them when I fell off your bike,” Honey said with a giggle. “I put those patches on myself and I’m very proud of them.”

  “Jim’s dungarees were faded and patched too,” Trixie suddenly remembered. “He didn’t have a stitch of clothes except the ones he was wearing.”

  “But he’s got all that money you saved from the fire,” Honey pointed out. “I wonder if he still has his silver christening mug and the old family Bible that had the will in it.”

  “What I’m wondering,” Trixie said, “is where he sleeps nights. That is, if he hasn’t already got a job at one of the boys’ camps.”

  “Why, he could go to a hotel, couldn’t he?” Honey demanded.

  Trixie shook her head. “Not without arousing suspicion. Boys his age don’t go around stopping at hotels.”

  “I never thought about that,” Honey said slowly. “He can’t spend a lot of money in any one place either without making people think he might have stolen it.”

  “That’s the trouble,” Trixie said. “When you get right down to it, Jim has to get a job right away. And it’s got to be some place where he can live too.”

  “Well, let’s hope we find him at Pine Hollow,” Honey said.

  They cantered along in silence until the trail ended at a macadam road. “Now,” Honey said, reining in her horse, “we go north, don’t we, and pick up the bridle path again in a few yards?”

  “I think so,” Trixie said. “It looks so easy on the map, but when you get here it’s something else again.”

  They walked their horses along the highway and suddenly Honey called out, “There’s the trail and look, aren’t we lucky? There’s a sign saying it’s the one to Pine Hollow!”

  Half an hour later they galloped up a hill and found themselves looking down at a large camp that sprawled around a lake. There were several small cabins and one large one nestling among the pine trees, and the lake was dotted with boys in swimming.

  “That’s it all right,” Trixie cried as they started down the hill.

  Halfway down they met a group on horseback riding up the winding trail. “Hello,” Trixie called to the young counselor who was leading the way. “We were coming down to see you. We’re looking for a friend of ours, a boy named Jim.”

  The counselor grinned. “We have three boys named Jim in camp. Which one is your friend?”

  “The red-haired one.” Honey laughed.

  All the boys grinned then. “Two of ’em have red hair. Take your choice.”

  Trixie flushed with embarrassment. “I started out all wrong,” she said. “The Jim we’re looking for wouldn’t be a camper. He’s trying to get a job as junior counselor or athletic instructor.”

  “Oh, that’s different,” the young man said. “A red-haired boy of about fifteen did apply for a job day before yesterday. He didn’t say what his name was, but he was riding a bicycle. Does that help you any?”

  Trixie looked at Honey. Jim might have bought a bike, she decided, and said out loud, “I guess that’s the one. Did he get a job with you?”

  The counselor shook his head. “No, there aren’t any positions open at Pine Hollow. It’s too bad. He looked like a nice kid, and a husky one.”

  “He didn’t say where he was going, did he?” Honey asked.

  The counselor shook his head. “No, he just rode right off on his bike toward the main highway.”

  The girls gathered up their reins and turned their horses around. “Well, thanks a lot, anyway,” Trixie said with a wave of good-by.

  Honey pulled Peanuts off the path. “Don’t you want to go ahead?” she asked the boys. “We’ve got to walk our horses for a while. They’re too hot.”

  “Thanks,” the counselor said and led his gr
oup at a canter up the hill.

  Trixie watched them disappear around a bend in the trail. “Anyway,” she said, “now we know that we were right about Jim. He is trying to get a job at one of the camps. Maybe he’ll be at Wilson Ranch when we get there tomorrow.”

  “I hope so,” Honey said as they started back. “If only we knew where he’s living!”

  “I can guess,” Trixie said.

  “Where?” Honey turned in the saddle to stare at Trixie.

  “Right in the woods,” Trixie told her. “It would be the safest place. He’s so smart he could make himself a wonderful camp and be as snug as a bug in a rug.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Honey said thoughtfully. “But I hope he didn’t try to sleep outdoors during that awful rain night before last.”

  “Jim wouldn’t have minded that at all,” Trixie said. “He could have rigged up some sort of waterproof shelter. I bet he’s built a swell shack by now. Oh, golly,” she interrupted herself suddenly. “Where are the dogs? I forgot all about them!”

  “Oh, gosh.” Honey sighed. “So did I. They raced ahead of us along the path when we left the riding academy, but I don’t remember seeing them since.”

  “Neither do I,” Trixie admitted. “Maybe they decided not to come along and found their way back to the trailer camp.”

  “I guess that’s what happened,” Honey said.

  As if in answer to her thoughts, Reddy suddenly bounded across the trail with Bud behind him, and disappeared in the underbrush.

  “Well, I like that!” Trixie said in exasperation. “They were so busy hunting something they didn’t even see us.” She began to whistle and call but the dogs did not come back.

  “Oh, let’s leave them,” Honey said after a while. “They can probably find their way back to Autoville better than we can.”

  “Okay,” Trixie agreed. “As a matter of fact, I’m sort of confused and mixed up. Do we take the left or the right fork here?”