The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

by Campbell, Julie

  Your TRIXIE BELDEN Library

  1 The Secret of the Mansion

  2 The Red Trailer Mystery

  3 The Gatehouse Mystery

  4 The Mysterious Visitor

  5 The Mystery Off Glen Road

  6 Mystery in Arizona

  7 The Mysterious Code

  8 The Black Jacket Mystery

  9 The Happy Valley Mystery

  10 The Marshland Mystery

  11 The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

  12 The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

  13 The Mystery on Cobbett’s Island

  14 The Mystery of the Emeralds

  15 Mystery on the Mississippi

  16 The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

  17 The Mystery of the Uninvited Guest

  18 The Mystery of the Phantom Grasshopper

  19 The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

  20 The Mystery Off Old Telegraph Road (new)

  21 The Mystery of the Castaway Children (new)

  22 Mystery at Mead’s Mountain (new)

  © 1977 by Western Publishing Company, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Produced in U.S.A.

  GOLDEN®, GOLDEN PRESS®, and TRIXIE BELDEN® are registered trademarks of Western Publishing Company, Inc.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or copied in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  0-307-21589-X

  All names, characters, and events in this story are entirely fictitious.

  Downtown • 1

  THE BIG STATION WAGON with the legend BOB-WHITES OF THE GLEN lettered on one door headed into Sleepy-side and pulled into the parking lot alongside the common.

  Trixie Belden opened a rear door and stepped out. “Last one in, first one out,” she said. “You boys can close the windows and lock the car. Honey and Di and I are going ahead to say hello to Hoppy.”

  Mart Belden, often mistaken for Trixie’s twin, shook his head. “Come on, Trixie,” he yelped. “Ever since Moms told you about talking to that old weather vane on top of Town Hall, you’ve gone bananas. Aren’t you ever going to give it up?”

  “Never!” Trixie declared. “Moms still does it once in a while.” She chuckled. “Now I’ve got Honey and Di doing it!”

  Di Lynch’s big violet eyes sparkled in response. “Were going to say hello to Hoppy until we re old, old ladies,” she said.

  Dan Mangan looked bewildered. He hadn’t lived in Sleepyside for very long and wasn’t sure what Trixie was talking about. “What’s this all about?” he asked.

  Jim, Honey s adopted brother, and Brian, Trixie’s other brother, shrugged good-naturedly. Both boys were seventeen and amused by Trixie’s occasionally superstitious ways.

  “It’s a family thing, Dan,” Brian explained. “When Moms was a little girl, she and her mother always used to say hello to the weather vane when they passed the common. My grandmother said that it brought good luck.”

  “When Moms told Trixie,” Mart added, “Trixie wanted me and Brian to start doing it, too. Trouble is, people think you’re pixilated when they hear you talking to a weather vane.”

  Honey Wheeler made a face. “I don’t know what that means,” she said. “But Di and I agree with Trixie—it’s a nice tradition to say hello to Hoppy.”

  As the girls started off, Dan called, “Yeah, but does it work? Have you had any good luck lately?” Laughing, Trixie called back, “Not yet. But Hoppy will make us famous someday. We’ll meet you over by Town Hall.”

  Jim waved them on. “We’ll be right there,” he said. “We don’t want to be late for the movie.”

  “And we need plenty of time to eat at Wimpy’s first,” Mart added. “I’m positively bulimic!”

  While the girls crossed the common, Jim locked up the station wagon. Honey’s wealthy father had given the station wagon to the young people after buying a new car for himself. Each of them owned one seventh of the car, and they were almost as proud of it as they were of their club.

  The Bob-Whites of the Glen was not merely a fun club. One of the reasons the club was formed was to help people who needed help. The seven club members were always busy with some special project-raising funds for UNICEF or donations for earthquake victims, or working for the Heart Fund.

  Somehow, along the way, Trixie always managed to get them involved in a mystery. Lively and inquisitive, Trixie was attracted to mysteries like a magnet. She seemed to have a special knack for solving cases that baffled police and detectives. Once, Trixie had helped capture a gang of sheep rustlers out in Iowa. Another time, she’d led the FBI to a spy ring operating on the Mississippi River. It was no wonder that she dreamed of the day when she and Honey, her best friend, would form the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.

  Honey and Jim lived at Manor House, a beautiful large estate on the hill above the Beldens’ Crabapple Farm.

  Honey had been delicate and shy when she moved to Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, but now she was healthy and outgoing. Trixie’s clever detective work had helped to prove that Jim was heir to a fortune of his own. Someday, Jim hoped to use his inheritance to open a school for homeless boys. Jim had been homeless himself until the Wheelers had adopted him, and he knew how badly such boys needed help and guidance.

  Jim had taught his friends the Bob-White whistle that was the clubs secret signal and had inspired the club’s name. He and Trixie were copresidents. Vice-president Honey, who loved to sew, had designed and made the red jackets worn by each of the club members.

  Brian was a charter member of the club. Serious and quiet, he planned to become a doctor and work with Jim at his home for boys. Mart was the secretary-treasurer. He enjoyed confusing the others by using big words.

  Diana Lynch and Dan Mangan were also members of the club. Di came from a wealthy family, like Honey, and lived in a great stone mansion farther down the road from Crabapple Farm. Di was the prettiest girl in school, with long black hair and big violet eyes. But she, too, had been lonely and unhappy until Trixie and the others had made her their friend.

  Dan Mangan, the seventh club member, was the nephew of Bill Regan, the man in charge of the Wheelers’ stable of riding horses. Dan had been a city tough, in trouble with the police, until Regan had brought him to Sleepyside. Now he lived with Mr. Maypenny, the Wheelers’ elderly gamekeeper, and helped care for the wild game preserve. The friendship of the Bob-Whites had encouraged Dan to change his tough ways.

  Together, the seven club members had shared many exciting adventures.

  Scuffing their feet through the red and yellow leaves that covered the common, Trixie, Honey, and Di headed for the Town Hall. The old-fashioned town square always seemed to look prettiest when it was shaded in twilight shadows. The library was dark and deserted, but the lights were turned on in the police station. Even in the fading light, the old Town Hall presented an impressive silhouette against the stately elms behind it.

  Tall and narrow, the two-story white clapboard building was one of the oldest landmarks in Sleepy-side. Three wooden steps led to the heavy front door. There were many tall, small-paned windows, and a slanted roof that rose sharply, coming to a high peak where a cupola was set. The bell that had once hung in the old bell tower had been gone for many years, but the original weather vane, shaped like a grasshopper, was still perched atop the cupola.

  Standing well back from the building, Trixie, Honey, and Di looked up at the old grasshopper. “Hello, Hoppy,” they called softly.

  Trixie flipped her fingertips in a small wave.

  “That old copper grasshopper really is a handsome weather vane,” Honey said.

  “He sure is,” Trixie agreed.

  Mart came rustling through
the leaves. “You guys can talk to weather vanes if you like,” he said. “I’ll stick to ambulating through the fallen leaves until I’m an old man.”

  Behind him, Dan, Jim, and Brian laughed. “At fifteen,” Jim said, “you have a long way to go. Right now, we’d better head for the diner, or we’ll never make it to the early show.”

  Minutes later, the Bob-Whites were crowded into one booth beside the window, joking and teasing while they made a meal of juicy double hamburgers and crisp French fries.

  Trixie tapped on the window and waved to someone passing outside. The young woman looked up quickly and, seeing Trixie, smiled and waved before hurrying along.

  “Miss Lawler,” Trixie informed the others, gesturing with an oversized pickle. “I’ll bet she’s going to the movie, too. I like her—she’s nice.”

  Miss Lawler was a new teacher s aide at Sleepy-side Junior-Senior High School. She assisted Miss Craven in social studies classes. AH of the Bob-Whites were in Miss Craven s classes at various times during the day, and they all enjoyed it. Trixie and Honey were together in the same class during the last period of the day.

  “Poor Miss Lawler,” Honey said softly. “She seems so shy. She’s always alone.” For just a moment, a shadow of sadness appeared in Honey’s eyes as she remembered her own days of loneliness, before she met Trixie and the other Bob-Whites.

  “I’ve noticed that, too,” Di said. “She’s very nice, and I think she’s pretty. But she doesn’t seem to have any friends.”

  “Listen,” Brian said, “she’s only been in town for a couple of weeks—just since school opened. Give her time to get acquainted.”

  Trixie looked thoughtful. “I wonder where she comes from,” she said.

  Honey nodded. “So do I. Miss Lawler seems like too good a teacher to be just an aide.”

  “She really can make things interesting,” Trixie said. “She’s been showing the class some of the old coins from Mr. Quinn’s collection and explaining how much you can learn about history from coins. It’s really neat!”

  “Yeah,” Mart said, putting more salt on his French fries, “she’s quite a numismatist.”

  Trixie raised her eyebrows. “A new-miss-what-ist?” she asked.

  “A numismatist,” Mart repeated. “That’s somebody who knows a lot about coins, dear sister.”

  Trixie grinned. “Well, that’s Miss Lawler,” she said. “I’m sure glad that Dad talked Mr. Quinn into lending his coin collection to the school. Those old coins really are interesting.”

  “Some of them are pretty valuable, too,” Brian reminded her. “But I guess someone as rich as Mr. Quinn can afford a hobby like that.”

  Di flipped her long black hair back and looked at her wristwatch. “It’s almost time for the show to begin,” she admonished.

  “Hey, you’re right,” Dan said. “Let’s get going.” Paying their bill quickly, the young people hurried across the street to the theater.

  Two hours later, the Bob-Whites were walking back to the parking lot, cutting across the common. It was a beautiful October night. Only a few stars were out, but a round orange moon hung low in the sky.

  “A pumpkin moon,” Trixie said.

  Di sighed wistfully. “It’s kind of romantic-looking,” she said. “It makes me wish the movie had been a love story.”

  “Humph,” Dan humphed. “Give me a giant gorilla anytime!” He hunched his shoulders and scuffed through a thick pile of leaves, imitating a gorilla.

  Mart pounded his chest and growled. “Want to see me climb up the side of the Town Hall?” he asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

  The others laughed and threw handfuls of leaves at Dan and Mart

  “Hoppy would kick you right off the roof,” Trixie gibed, looking up at the old weather vane.

  Brian noticed Miss Lawler passing the common and motioned the others to stop throwing leaves.

  “Hi, Miss Lawler,” Trixie called. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

  The teacher’s aide waved and stopped for a moment. “Yes, I did,” she answered.

  “So did we,” Trixie said. “Say, have you met Hoppy?”

  Miss Lawler walked across the square to join the young people. “No, I don’t believe I have,” she said doubtfully, looking from one young person to the next.

  “Well,” Trixie told her, “you simply have to meet him right now. Hoppy’s the copper grasshopper up there on top of Town Hall. See him? He’s over two hundred years old, and he’s been standing in that very spot practically since Sleepyside was settled.”

  “Why, how interesting!” Miss Lawler exclaimed. “He’s a real antique!” She stepped back a few steps and craned her neck to get a better look at the ancient weather vane.

  With an impish grin, Trixie turned her back on the boys. “If you want some good luck, Miss Lawler, all you have to do is—” Trixie stopped and frowned as a strange chop-chop-chop sound, growing louder by the minute, drowned out her voice.

  “What’s making that awful noise?” Honey shouted.

  Brian pointed to a light in the sky, moving steadily closer as the noise grew louder. “A helicopter,” he yelled over the loud chop-chop-chop.

  As they all watched, the helicopter swung low and circled the small common, hovering briefly over the Town Hall. Then it rose swiftly and darted out of sight behind some trees.

  “Wonder who that was,” Mart said as the noise faded.

  “It might have been Mr. Perkins, the radio station manager,” Brian said. “Sometimes he has a helicopter shuttle service fly him to the city and back.”

  Dan rubbed his ears. “Boy, for a minute I thought they were going to land right here on the common,” he complained.

  “Welcome to the new, ultra-modem Sleepyside International Airport,” Mart announced in his tour guide voice, gesturing dramatically at the tree-lined common.

  Miss Lawler joined in the laughter that followed the announcement. “Trixie,” she said, “you started to tell me something about good luck. I’d like to hear about it.”

  Trixie grinned, feeling a little silly. “Well, we think it’s good luck to say hello to Hoppy when you pass by,” she said. “At least, Honey and Di and I do. The boys think we’re foolish.”

  “Good luck?” Miss Lawler seemed to think this over. Then she smiled. “Well, I could certainly use some of that,” she said. And with a wave of her hand, she called, “Good evening, Hoppy!”

  “Miss Lawler,” Trixie said impulsively, “you must get lonesome on Sundays. Why don’t you come out to Crabapple Farm tomorrow? That’s our home—it’s only about two miles out of town. My parents love to have visitors. Please drive out and see us.”

  The teacher’s aide shook her head. “I—I don’t drive, Trixie,” she said. “I’m afraid I can’t accept your kind invitation.”

  “Could we drive you home now?” Honey asked quickly. “We have our station wagon—”

  “No, thank you,” Miss Lawler said quickly. “I’ll see you all in school on Monday. Good night.” Turning abruptly, she hurried away without looking back at the Bob-Whites.

  During the ride home, Trixie sat in the front seat beside Jim. While the others discussed the movie, Trixie tuned in WSTH, the local radio station that belonged to Mr. Perkins. The station was the favorite of everyone in town because of the wide variety of music played. Mr. Perkins had a large collection of old jazz and swing recordings that the adults loved —Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, the Dorsey brothers, George Gershwin, and many others. His son Jeff, who was away at college, saw to it that the station also had all the current rock and popular hits that the young people enjoyed. Various times of the day were devoted to one type of music or the other, and requests from listeners for specific songs were always welcome.

  “Hey, why so quiet, Trix?” Mart asked after a while. “What ponderous ruminations are you cogitating about now?”

  “I’m thinking about Miss Lawler,” Trixie answered. “She didn’t act very shy when I introduced her to Hoppy. But when I invited
her to visit Crabapple Farm, she seemed—almost afraid. I think there’s something kind of—”

  “—strange about Miss Lawler,” the other Bob-Whites chorused. They all burst out laughing.

  “You’re always saying that about somebody, Trixie,” Jim said.

  “Well, it’s true,” Trixie insisted, though she couldn’t help giggling herself.

  “Trixie,” Di said when everyone had finished laughing, “did you know the button is missing from your right jacket cuff?”

  “I know,” Trixie confessed, embarrassed. “It popped off the other day, and you know how I hate to sew...

  “Ah-ha!” Mart pointed an accusing finger. “Remember the club rule about keeping our jackets neat and clean? Untidy habiliments are a bad reflection on the Bob-Whites. As secretary-treasurer, I hereby impose a fine of ten cents a day until the button is replaced.”

  “Oh, Mart,” Trixie wailed, “I can’t even find the button. I’ll sew it on as soon as I find it, okay?”

  “Ten cents a day,” Mart repeated.

  Chuckling, Jim swung the car slowly into the driveway at Crabapple Farm. “Better find that button and sew it on, fast,” he said.

  “I’ll have to,” Trixie moaned. “Jeepers! I can’t afford ten cents a day for very long.” She and her brothers climbed out of the station wagon.

  Honey rolled down her window. “Don’t forget that we have to exercise the horses tomorrow. We’ll see you at the stable right after lunch.”

  Di yawned. “I’m glad that doesn’t include me,” she said sleepily. “I won’t see any of you tomorrow. We’ll have company from out of town.”

  Trixie watched the station wagon back down the driveway and scratched her head. “If Miss Lawler doesn’t drive,” she muttered, “how does she get around?”

  “You don’t drive, either,” Brian pointed out. “But you get around pretty well.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Trixie admitted. “But I wonder why someone as smart as Miss Lawler doesn’t know how to drive.”