The Red Trailer Mystery

by Julie Campbell

  Honey reined in her horse and gazed down at the intersection of the two paths. “Oh, oh,” she gasped. “Do you see what I see? Bicycle tracks! Maybe they’ll lead us to Jim.”

  Trixie slid out of the saddle. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “But this couldn’t be the same path we just rode up. If it was, our horses would have stamped out all signs of the tire treads.” She swung up on Prince’s back. “We’re sure to get lost, but let’s go!”

  Honey giggled. “I think this is the trail we should have taken in the first place. The other one wound round and round instead of going straight to Pine Hollow.”

  “This is a real road,” Trixie agreed.

  “Oh, I’m so excited at the thought of seeing Jim again I can hardly bear it,” Honey said. “And you know what? This is something I didn’t dare tell you before because I wasn’t sure we’d ever find any trace of Jim. But when I told Miss Trask how much you and I liked him and how wonderful it would be if he could come and live with us, and he and I could go to school in Sleepyside with you and your brothers, she said it was a wonderful idea.”

  “It is a wonderful idea,” Trixie said. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “I can’t either,” Honey said. “So I wrote to Mother and Dad air mail before we left, telling them all about Jim and asking them if they would adopt him. Of course, I haven’t had time to hear yet, but I might get a letter tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Honey,” Trixie gasped. “Do you think they’ll do it?”

  “Miss Trask seemed to think so,” Honey said. “She and Mr. Rainsford talked about it for a long time on Thursday after you went home. At first he wanted to adopt Jim himself but he travels a lot all over the world, so he wouldn’t be a very good father. And Miss Trask argued that Jim ought to grow up with other boys and girls. So finally he said he’d write to Dad himself about appointing him as guardian, anyway. They’re old friends, you know. As a matter of fact, Mr. Rainsford suddenly remembered that Dad and Jim’s father knew each other years ago. They went to the same school or something.”

  “It’s getting better and better,” Trixie cried enthusiastically. “How do you think your mother will feel about adopting Jim?”

  “I—don’t—know,” Honey admitted ruefully. “I’m scared she won’t even consider it. But somehow I feel sure if she could meet Jim she would like him as much as we do.” Tears welled up in her wide hazel eyes. “When I was little I heard my nurse talking to the cook and she said the reason my mother didn’t pay any attention to me was because I was a girl instead of a boy.”

  “How perfectly awful,” Trixie exploded. “And of course it’s not true. You should never have paid any attention to such silly talk.”

  Honey looked down at her long slender hands for a moment. “Well, anyway, if Mother does want a son, she couldn’t find anybody better than Jim. And he’s a lot like Dad. You know, they both have quick tempers, like most redheaded people, but they never stay mad long. And they’re terribly frank and honest and athletic and love the outdoors.” She smiled suddenly through her tears. “I’ll probably be terribly jealous of Jim if Dad does adopt him.”

  Trixie laughed. “Jim is just what you need to help you get to know your parents. The only trouble with you and your mother is that you’re both shy. But Jim isn’t. Remember the day we discovered him? We felt as though we’d known him all our lives in just a few minutes.”

  The trail ended abruptly at the macadam road, several yards north of the winding path they had taken earlier to Pine Hollow.

  “Now what?” Trixie asked. “Did Jim go north or south on the highway, or did he pick up the trail on the other side of the road?”

  Honey stared down at the faint marks of bicycle tire treads in the dirt. “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said. “But let’s ride north for a bit and see if there is another path leading into the woods.”

  “Maybe he cut through this underbrush,” Trixie wondered out loud. “It looks as though somebody might have dragged a bike through here recently.”

  “Well, we can’t go that way,” Honey objected. “Not on horseback.”

  A twig crackled and both girls turned quickly, just in time to catch a glimpse of something that looked like blue jeans disappearing in the thicket.

  “Jim,” both girls gasped at once, then raised their voices. “Jim! Jim!” they shouted.

  And then the dogs came bounding down the trail. A few feet from the road, Reddy suddenly swerved, and, barking joyfully as though greeting an old friend, tore off through the underbrush, with Bud.

  “It was Jim,” Trixie said. “Reddy recognized him.”

  “I don’t think so,” Honey objected. “He would have answered us. And Reddy thinks everybody’s his best friend. So does Bud.”

  Trixie looked discouraged. “We couldn’t possibly be lucky enough to find Jim the very first thing,” she said. “I guess whoever was wearing those dungarees is a Pine Hollow boy exploring the woods.”

  “That’s what I think,” Honey said. “Let’s try to find another path with more bicycle marks on it.”

  They rode up the highway for half a mile or so but saw no more bridle paths. They were just about to turn back when a large van came lumbering out of the woods just ahead of them.

  “There must be a road there,” Trixie cried excitedly. “Let’s see if there are any signs of tire treads.”

  As they passed the van, Trixie glanced disinterestedly at the driver, but a second later, she sucked in her breath and whispered to Honey, “The man driving that van had bushy hair, like Joeanne’s father, and the other one looked like Jeff, the waiter!”

  Honey turned in the saddle to stare after the van. “Are you sure?” she demanded. “I mean, are you sure it was Joeanne’s father?”

  Trixie shook her head. “No. His face was turned away from me, but he had that same shaggy hair. I could hardly see the other man he was talking to but he did look like Jeff.”

  “Well, a lot of people have bushy hair,” Honey said, “and a lot of people look like Jeff. You know, neither tall nor short, not fat or thin, and sort of colorless eyes and hair.” She giggled. “All waiters look alike to me anyway.”

  “Say,” Trixie interrupted in amazement. “This isn’t a road that van came out of. It’s just a cleared space between the trees and the bushes.”

  “I guess the driver thought it was a road,” Honey said, “and turned in by mistake.”

  “But then,” Trixie argued, “he would have backed out. There’s no room to turn here. And he was headed toward the highway.”

  “That’s true,” Honey said thoughtfully.

  “And look!” Trixie shouted in excitement as she slipped out of the saddle. “Just look at this pile of branches. They must have been used to camouflage the van so nobody passing by would notice it.”

  Honey jumped down beside her. On one side of the clearing, bushy evergreens were heaped high. On closer inspection they discovered folded neatly nearby an old tennis court net.

  Honey was completely mystified, but Trixie yelled, “I get it. Don’t you see? They back the van in here and cover it with branches. Then they stretch this net between the trees facing the road on either side of the clearing. After that all they have to do to hide the van completely is wind more branches through the holes in the net. It makes a perfect screen so nobody would ever guess there was a van parked in this patch of woods.”

  “Then,” Honey said slowly, “those two men must be the trailer thieves. They carry away in the van the stuff they steal. Oh, I hate to think of Joeanne’s father being arrested, but we really ought to tell the state troopers just as soon as possible.”

  “We can’t do that yet,” Trixie argued. “We’re not sure the driver of the van was Joeanne’s father, and how do we know this really is a hideaway? Let’s come back some other time when the van is hidden here. If we see trailer equipment inside it then we’ll have proof.”

  Honey shuddered. “But suppose they catch us spying on them, Trixie? Tha
t Jeff is awfully mean-tempered and he has it in for you anyway.”

  Trixie shrugged. “I’m not afraid of him, but I am starving. Let’s eat.”

  “Not here,” Honey protested, looking over her shoulder. “Those men might come back.”

  “All right,” Trixie agreed. “It would be better to ride down to the path where we found the bicycle tracks and have a picnic lunch near there. We might find some more clues to where Jim is.”

  Chapter 6

  An Eavesdropper

  As they rode a little way up the Pine Hollow trail again, the dogs came dashing out of the woods. They were both dripping wet and sprayed the girls with water.

  “They’ve been in swimming, the lucky dogs.” Trixie laughed. “There must be a brook near here. Let’s try to find it so we can wash up before lunch.”

  “But we can’t take the horses through that thick underbrush,” Honey objected. “They might get badly scratched or stumble and go lame. I wouldn’t worry so much if Prince and Peanuts belonged to us, but we’d better not take any chances with rented horses.”

  “You’re right.” Trixie sighed. “But I’m just dying to explore in there. Suppose those blue jeans we saw belonged to Jim?”

  “I’m sure they didn’t.” Honey handed Trixie a sandwich and unscrewed the top of the Thermos. “Even if he didn’t hear us call, he would have recognized Reddy and known we were near. He wouldn’t run away from us, Trixie.”

  “I’m not so sure of that,” Trixie said. “Maybe something’s happened so he feels he has to hide from everyone. We haven’t seen a newspaper since we left home. Suppose a reporter discovered Jim didn’t die in the fire after all? There would be another front-page story about the missing heir, and Jonesy would start looking for Jim again.”

  “Oh, golly,” Honey groaned. “I can’t bear to think of anything so awful happening. If Jonesy should find Jim before we do, he’ll beat him and tie him up the way he did the time Jim ran away before.”

  “Jim will never let that happen,” Trixie said. “And that’s what worries me. We shouldn’t waste any more time. Let’s ride to Wilson Ranch this afternoon and see if he got a job there.”

  Honey glanced up at the sky. “We would never be able to make it before it rains. It’s going to pour any minute. We ought to start for home right away.”

  Sure enough, it was already sprinkling when the girls returned their horses to the riding academy, and they had to run all the way to the Swan to keep from getting soaked. The rain kept up a steady drumming on the roof of the trailer all day, and the girls were forced to play indoor games and read, but it was hard to control their impatience.

  At last Trixie said restlessly, “I can’t stand being cooped up here any longer. Let’s dash over to the restaurant and play some Ping-Pong before dinner.”

  “All right,” Miss Trask agreed. “I’ll take a nap, but wear your slickers and rubbers. If either of you should catch cold it would ruin the trip.”

  “We won’t,” Honey assured her. “And please don’t let the dogs follow us. They’ve already brought in so much mud Trixie and I’ll have to spend most of the morning scrubbing the place.”

  They raced around the park in their oilskin capes and hoods and sloshed up the steps to the cafeteria veranda. Everybody in Autoville seemed to have gathered inside and out of the clubhouse, and people were waiting in line for the use of the Ping-Pong table.

  “Oh dear,” Trixie complained. “There’s nothing to do here either. I wish we could fall asleep and not wake up until it’s time to start looking for Jim tomorrow morning.”

  Honey was examining a magazine at the newsstand. “This quiz test looks like fun,” she said. “Let’s find out how smart we are.” She bought two copies of the magazine and Trixie followed her to a quiet corner of the library. “Ready, get set, go,” Honey said. “The one who gets through first and has the most right answers is the smartest.”

  Trixie scribbled a few answers in the blank spaces after the questions in the test, but in a short while her thoughts began to wander. “I always get sleepy on rainy days,” she yawned, bored. “Wish I’d stayed back at the Swan with Miss Trask and taken a nap.”

  “I’m sleepy too,” Honey admitted. “Let’s doze right here in these comfortable chairs. We can finish the quiz later.”

  It seemed to Trixie that she had hardly closed her eyes when she was awakened by the sound of whispering on the other side of the thin beaver-board wall that separated the library from one of the back rooms in the cafeteria.

  “—abandoned barn,” someone was saying, “on that truck farm. Perfectly safe. Hasn’t been used in years. Doubt if the farmer even remembers it’s there.”

  “You’re taking an awful chance,” came a whining whisper. “We were better off where we were.”

  Trixie sat up. That voice, she felt sure, belonged to Jeff!

  “Don’t be stupid,” the other voice said hoarsely. “Those kids rode into the clearing after we passed them on the highway. If they saw that net and guessed—”

  “Those dumb kids!” Jeff snorted. “They wouldn’t suspect anything even if they did happen to notice the net. What do you think they are, state troopers?”

  “I’m taking no chances,” the other man insisted. “They didn’t look dumb to me and you could tell by the way they were riding along, watching the side of the road, they were looking for something.”

  “Oh, all right,” Jeff gave in. “But it beats me how you’re going to get to that barn without being seen by the farmer who owns it. That van’s not exactly small, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “I keep telling you,” the other man whispered impatiently. “Through the back fields. There’s an old road leading from the orchard to the barn.”

  “And fine shape it’ll be in after this rain,” Jeff argued. “We’re sure to get stuck in the mud tonight; but have it your own way. I’ll play along, but it sure gets my goat that a couple of clumsy girls can make us change our plans.”

  The two men moved away from the wall, and in a few seconds Trixie saw the silhouette of a bushy-haired man move furtively past the library window. She hurried to the veranda, straining her eyes to get a better glimpse of him. He turned as though he might have heard her tiptoeing after him, and she crouched down hastily behind a bench. Peeking through the slats in the back of the bench, Trixie held her breath as the man took a few steps in her direction. Then, jamming a battered hat down over his thick, unruly hair, he wheeled and vaulted over the porch railing to disappear in the shadows of the bushes.

  It was dark on the veranda, for due to the rain the outside lights had not been turned on, but Trixie had seen enough of the man’s face to feel sure that he was not Joeanne’s father. Hastily she returned to the library and woke Honey to tell her what had happened.

  “I can’t be absolutely sure, of course,” she finished, “but he didn’t have that sort of vacant look that the red trailer man had. He didn’t look beaten at all; he had sharp features and narrow eyes and with all that bushy hair he made me think of a fox.”

  “Well, Joeanne’s father doesn’t look anything like a fox,” Honey said. “The last time I saw him he reminded me of a great big, sad-eyed dog that didn’t have any home. Even if he did go off and leave Joeanne, I feel sorry for him.”

  “Honey!” Trixie gasped. “You’ve hit the nail on the head. That’s just what’s wrong with that family—why they look so vacant, as though they had given up hope. They haven’t any home.”

  “They’ve got the red trailer,” Honey began and then stopped. “Oh, I see what you mean. They must have stolen the trailer because they haven’t any other place to live.”

  “That’s it,” Trixie cried. “If you had all those children and no home for them and you saw a trailer all hitched up and ready to go, wouldn’t you be tempted?”

  Honey nodded her head up and down sympathetically. “The man who owns the Robin shouldn’t have gone off and left his keys in the tow car. It serves him right, and I’m g
lad we didn’t tell the state trooper anything.”

  “We didn’t have anything to tell him,” Trixie pointed out, “except that we saw a red trailer at the picnic grounds, and Miss Trask told him that.”

  Honey sighed. “I hope we never run across that poor family again. If we should see the Robin while we’re looking for Jim we’d have to notify the police, wouldn’t we? I mean, if the father is a thief, it wouldn’t be right to withhold information that would lead to his arrest.”

  “Well, anyway,” Trixie said, “he’s not the same thief who’s been stealing trailer equipment. If you ask me, Jeff and his bushy-haired friend have something to do with those robberies.”

  “It certainly looks like it,” Honey said thoughtfully. “A hidden van and all that talk you just heard about an abandoned barn! Shouldn’t we tell the troopers what we suspect?”

  “It wouldn’t do any good,” Trixie told her. “I gather they’re not going to hide the van in the woods any more. And we haven’t the vaguest idea where the abandoned barn is. We’ve got to get some proof before we can report anything to the police. If I told them I suspected Jeff, they’d think I was trying to get him into trouble because he bumped into me with a tray of dishes.”

  “Oh, golly,” Honey moaned. “It seems to me we’ve got too many things to do in such a short time. We want to find Jim and Joeanne, and we don’t want to find the red trailer, and at the same time we ought to be looking for that van and an abandoned barn.”

  Trixie laughed. “We don’t really have to do anything but find Jim, but I hope we find Joeanne too. I can’t bear the thought of that poor little girl wandering around all by herself.”

  “Maybe she isn’t any more,” Honey said without much hope. “Maybe she knew where her family was going in the trailer and has caught up with them by now.”

  Trixie shook her head. “Then why did she run away in the first place?”

  “I don’t know,” Honey began and then she said with a little gasp, “Oh, Trixie, did you ever think that the person in faded blue jeans who disappeared into the woods back at the Pine Hollow trail might have been Joeanne? Both the dogs know her pretty well, and especially Bud!”