So it was arranged, and both Trixie and Honey were delighted. They had so much to talk about, anyhow, that they would have been on the phone for hours every day if Honey hadn’t been under the same roof.
By Monday morning, after much conferring in the clubhouse, the Bob-Whites had set the date for their ice carnival. Honey, who was a whiz at sewing, had already sketched a few of the Spanish costumes they would wear, and Trixie had chewed the ends off two perfectly good pencils trying to figure how they could raise cash to buy the materials for the costumes.
She was moaning about it as she and Honey and Di Lynch waited in the chilly wind that morning for the school bus.
Di, the other member of the B.W.G.’s, had been helping a lot. It was her Uncle Monty’s dude ranch at which they had spent the Christmas holidays in Tucson. Di owned several Mexican shawls and high tortoiseshell combs and some red-heeled dancing slippers that Uncle Monty had sent to his sister, Di’s mother, when she had given a New Year’s Ball. Di had good news for the girls.
“Mother says that we can use all of that stuff. And lots more Indian and Mexican pottery and serapes that Uncle Monty sent for decorations. We’ll have all the booths draped with them.” Diana was full of plans. “And I’ve written Uncle Monty to send us a whole lot of cactus candy to sell in one of the booths.”
“Cactus candy? Ugh! I should think people would choke on all those awful spines!” Trixie shuddered.
“They peel the cactus before they make the candy out of it.” Di laughed. “Not a choke in a carload!” Mart and Brian had caught the early bus, because they expected to do a bit of preliminary advertising among their classmates about the carnival.
“I hope we picked a good date for our show,” Trixie said. “It would be horrible if it snowed hard, and all our customers stayed home. I’d die if we had to write to Dolores and Lupe and tell them that we had had a flop.”
“What we need is a good old-fashioned almanac.” Honey laughed. “Mr. Lytell has one in his store that he swears by. He reads every word in it, and he insists that it never misses telling exactly what kind of weather to expect every day of the year.”
“I saw one of those in Mr. Maypenny’s kitchen, the day he gave us that stew for lunch when we barged in on him,” Trixie said, her blue eyes sparkling suddenly with an idea. “Hey! Why don’t we ride out there after school and ask him to show us what the weather’s going to be like on the twenty-seventh? If it’s supposed to be sleet-and-snowy, we can change the date before the posters are dated!”
“Why go all that way?” Honey’s own eyes twinkled. She knew Trixie. “We can stop by Mr. Lytell’s store and ask to look at his almanac.”
“I’d rather ask Mr. Maypenny,” Trixie said promptly. “Mr. Lytell’s always so grouchy. Besides, we have to ride Susie and Starlight this afternoon, anyhow.”
Honey grinned at her friend. “And, besides, you think you might get Mr. Maypenny to tell you what kind of experiment Regan’s doing. You still think it was Mom’s car you heard by the lake!” She spoke low so Di wouldn’t hear. Di was greeting another schoolmate a few feet away.
Trixie had the grace to blush. “Well,” she said, pouting, “I guess I do, really. And it would be fun to know.”
The bus came just then, so nothing was settled. They climbed aboard the bus, and the three girls went on back to the rear seats that they usually took.
But the bus driver didn’t close the door at once. He seemed to be waiting for someone. Trixie noticed it. She craned her neck to look through the window.
“We have a new rider,” she told Di and Honey.
A moment later a boy who looked about Mart’s age came up the steps. He had a thin, dark face and was wearing a peaked black cap with a patent-leather band and a broad-shouldered black leather jacket with the collar turned up. His black eyes peered out from under the shiny visor of the cap and swept the length of the bus, almost as if he expected to see some danger there. His face was grim
Trixie kicked Honey in the ankle, and out of the side of her mouth she whispered, “Wonder where he left his motorcycle.”
The boy’s eyes fixed on Trixie almost as if he had heard what she was saying. They were cold eyes and not in the least friendly.
Trixie swallowed hard, and her face got red. She knew the stranger couldn’t have heard her, but there was no doubt that he had read her expression and resented it.
She gasped a moment later as a second person came up the bus steps close behind the boy.
It was Mr. Maypenny, dressed in "store clothes.” He didn’t look at all comfortable in them. The shirt collar seemed to be choking him, and he had evidently put on some weight since he had last worn the suit, because the coat was open and it was easy to see that it couldn’t possibly be buttoned.
Mr. Maypenny glanced toward the rear of the bus, and both Trixie and Honey smiled and waved to him. But he merely nodded briefly and looked back toward the boy with him. “Sit down,” he said.
He pointed to a seat up close to the driver, and when the boy had silently obeyed, Mr. Maypenny sat down beside him and faced forward as the bus started toward Sleepyside.
“For goodness’ sake, where did he find that?” Trixie whispered. She could still feel the sting of the look the strange boy had given her.
Honey, her eyes still on them, looked puzzled. “Maybe it’s somebody who’s going to help him with the work. I heard Dad say a couple of times that Mr. Maypenny needed a helper, especially in the winter, when the feeding stations have to be filled so often for the deer. It’s too much work for one man alone.”
“He doesn’t look like an outdoor character to me,” Trixie sniffed. “That black leather jacket! Ugh! I expected to see some crazy club name on the back of it when he sat down!”
“That’s strange.” Honey looked startled. “I did, too!” Then she giggled. “I guess we’ve seen too many movies about tough kids in leather jackets!” Trixie nodded and grinned. Then she frowned. “You know, I get the funniest feeling about him. I feel as if I have seen him before somewhere. And still, I know I haven’t.”
She was still puzzling about it when the bus arrived at Sleepyside High and everyone got out. Mr. Maypenny and the boy headed directly toward the principal’s office, without stopping to speak to the girls. Trixie was really stumped.
“It looks as if Mr. Maypenny’s friend is going to enroll in our school,” Di said as the three strolled toward their homeroom. “He’s sort of good-looking, isn’t he?”
Trixie sniffed. “Thr-r-rilling, I’m sure!”
Di looked hurt, but Honey laughed and patted her arm. “Don’t mind Trixie. She’s just teasing you. She thinks he’s stunning.”
Trixie flashed her friend a reproachful look and stalked away with her nose high. She didn’t like the strange boy, no matter what Honey or Di thought about him. And she wished that she could think of whom he reminded her!
The Rebel ● 7
BY LUNCHTIME there was scarcely a cloud left in the sky. The storm had swept south, leaving only a few inches of soft new snow in the valley, but the air from the north was cold and crisp. It made the girls step along briskly on their way to the cafeteria.
“Feels good,” Trixie said happily. “No signs of a thaw. I hope it keeps up this way.”
They had filled their lunch trays at the cafeteria counter and taken them to the usual table in one comer of the lunchroom when they saw Mart come in with the new pupil. “Look at what’s coming with Marti” Trixie whispered. “Our friend!”
Di Lynch and Brian had sat down a few moments earlier and had started to eat. “Why the whispering, Miss Sherlock Holmes?” Brian asked. Then he caught the direction of their eyes, and he stared, also.
Most of the other pupils either stared openly or took furtive glances at the newcomer. Mart saw it, and his face reddened, but he continued to lead the new boy toward the table where his friends were sitting.
Now that Trixie could get a full look at the newcomer, she was less impressed by him th
an before. He was wearing the black leather jacket and had his cap tucked under his arm, but the thing that made her gasp was the style of shoes he was wearing. She hadn’t noticed them on the bus. They were cowboy boots.
She craned her neck to be sure she was seeing right There was no mistake. They were pointedtoed boots with a high heel, and they were black and highly polished.
Mart and the dark boy were at the table now. “Hi, family and such! This is Dan Mangan. Dan, here are some of the characters you’ll have to put up with in Sleepyside High.”
Brian was cordial. He rose and shook hands soberly with Dan Mangan, and the solemn-faced Dan managed a smile and a brief “Hi,” in return.
But in spite of Honey’s quick smile and Di’s admiring look, Dan only nodded stiffly to the girls. “As if it hurt him to be polite,” Trixie whispered as Mart and Dan went to the counter to get trays and serve themselves. Trixie was disappointed.
“He’s just bashful, I guess,” Di said and fluffed her soft black curls around her neck.
“Huh!” Trixie noticed the curl-fluffing with a critical eye. “You can call it that, but it looks more like just plain old rude, to me.”
“Trixie Belden, you’re not being fair,” Honey told her quietly. “You don’t know a thing about the poor fellow, and you’re deciding not to like him.”
“Oh, it’s just that black leather jacket, I guess,” Trixie answered truthfully. “And those cowboy boots. Why would anybody wear cowboy boots?”
“Maybe it’s a club outfit, like our red jackets,” Honey suggested. “When he walked away just now, the sun hit the back of his jacket through that window. And I’m almost sure I saw where something had been painted over, right in the middle of the back.”
“Really? What did it say?” Trixie was interested now.
“I couldn’t tell. But I bet it was the name of some club he belongs to,” Honey told them.
Di’s eyes were wide. “I saw a movie about a street gang that wore black leather jackets. They were awful. Always fighting. Do you think he’s like that?” She was ready to be alarmed as she stared at Dan and Mart coming across the cafeteria with loaded trays.
Trixie saw Di’s expression and was suddenly ashamed of herself. She told Di hastily, “He’s probably a very nice boy. And either Mr. Maypenny has hired him to help on the preserve, as Honey suggested, or else he’s Mr. Maypenny’s grandson.”
“Grandson, I bet!” Honey guessed enthusiastically. “He’s probably been living in the city all his life. That’s why he’s so thin, maybe. And Mr. Maypenny’s hoping to fatten him up with country air and some of his wonderful cooking.”
“Got it all figured out, haven’t you?” Brian laughed. “Now, how about eating lunch before the assembly bell rings?” But even he stopped eating and looked surprised as Mart came on alone after introducing Dan Mangan to three ninth-graders at the next table. After putting down his tray, Dan seated himself.
Mart met their inquiring looks a little sheepishly as he emptied his tray and sat down with them. “Dan’s getting acquainted with the guys in our homeroom,” he explained. “It’s better.”
Di pouted and glanced at the empty chair next to her own. “Who needs him?” she asked. “Would have crowded us, anyway.”
But Trixie, holding back an impish grin, kicked Honey’s ankle under the table and winked knowingly. Di was miffed, and Trixie knew it. That came of being so pretty that everybody swooned over her. When they didn’t, it was a blow.
It was getting crowded in the lunchroom, and everyone was talking louder and louder. Over at the next table, Dan had an audience of three who were hanging on his every word. “Sure,” he said carelessly, toying with his food and waving his fork to emphasize his words, “I helped start our club. Nobody tells us what to do around our neighborhood. We take care of that!” There was a pause, and then he went on. “Switchblades? Not us! The cops get tough when they find ’em on you. We don’t need stuff like that.” He struck a fist into the palm of his other hand forcefully. “Pow!”
His audience had forgotten to eat. All three pairs of eyes were fixed on Dan.
Trixie turned to her brother. “How did you get stuck taking him around?” she asked with a nod in Dan’s direction.
“Aw, he’s okay. Just feeling his way. He’ll calm down.” Mart laughed. “Mr. Maypenny asked Miss Taylor if I could introduce him around.”
“Hmph!” Trixie snorted. “He seems to be doing pretty well by himself.” She eyed Dan speculatively. “Did she say he was related to Mr. Maypenny?”
“Yeah,” Mart said, suddenly aware that the other two girls were listening. “I’ll tell you the whole terrible story, gals. Well, it seems that Dan was kidnapped by gypsies when he was a baby, and now he’s the real king of the gypsies, but there’s another band of gypsies who are out to s-s-slit his gullet—” He was whispering, and he made a funny gurgling noise and ran his finger suggestively across his throat as he spoke.
Di gave a horrified exclamation, and Honey’s hazel eyes looked like saucers, but Trixie knew her brother better than they did.
“So he’s hiding out in Sleepyside,” she chimed in with a twinkle in her china-blue eyes, “till he can rally an army and march against his enemies. And in the meantime he’s working for Mr. Maypenny to raise the money to pay for his army!”
Mart put up his hands in token of surrender. “You win!” He laughed. "I surrender!”
And while both Honey and Di Lynch still looked a little bewildered, the bell rang to warn them all that it was time to get back to their classes.
After school, Trixie and Honey went to the Wheeler stable to get their horses.
“I hate to see Regan,” Trixie sighed as they sighted his broad-shouldered, red-haired form at work near the stalls. “I’ve got to tell him about spilling his letter file, and I know he’ll snap my head off.” But, to her amazement, Regan was friendly, and he even laughed when she reluctantly admitted her accident.
“It was pretty well mixed up, as it was,” he said good-naturedly. “Forget it.”
He helped them saddle up, and while he did, he asked Honey, “Did you know that Maypenny finally hired somebody to help him take care of the game preserve? He’s a teen-ager, too.”
“We saw a boy with him, a dark boy named Dan Mangan,” Honey told him. “He seems very nice, but he doesn’t look very strong.”
Regan hesitated. Then he laughed. “He’s probably one of those stringy ones that are a lot stronger than they look.”
Trixie couldn’t keep out of it. “He was telling some of the boys at school about belonging to a tough gang in the city. I bet he was just putting it on.
Regan’s face flushed, and he hesitated even longer this time before he answered. “Well, Trixie, a lot of people talk big because they think other people will like them better. Maybe Danny Mangan s like that.”
Honey nodded quickly. “I know how it is, Trix. I used to be scared of the water, till a girl at the boarding school where I used to go laughed at me and told everyone I was afraid. So the next day at the pool I jumped right in, though I was sure I’d drown. And the first thing I knew, I was swimming.”
“And now you’re the prize swimmer of the Bob-Whites,” Trixie added admiringly.
Regan nodded sagely. “That’s how it goes. This boy Danny, now, he’s taking a job he doesn’t know anything about and going into a school where he doesn’t know a living soul. He’s got to put up a good front, hasn’t he?”
“That’s right,” Trixie agreed. And Honey nodded.
“Well?” Regan grinned.
“But he is Mr. Maypenny’s grandson, isn’t he?” Trixie flung the question at him suddenly as she settled into her saddle.
Regan frowned. “Where did you get that?”
“Why, I don’t know—we were just kind of guessing,” Trixie said hurriedly. “There’s no reason why he should be, except—I guess we were just hoping that he was, because Mr. Maypenny doesn’t have anybody.”
Regan laughed
, and the sharpness was gone out of his voice again as he told her, “If you ask me, he’s pretty satisfied without relations. Most of the time all you get from relations is grief.” He went on back into the stables, whistling.
“I still think—” Trixie wrinkled her forehead.
“Come on, stop thinking! If Dan Mangan were Mr. Maypenny’s grandson, there’d be no reason why Regan wouldn’t say so. So he isn’t. And, anyhow, what difference does it make to us? Or to Susie and Starlight, who are chewing their bits like madl”
They cantered off down the driveway and along Glen Road to the pathway up into the woods.
“I guess whatever was worrying Regan is all right now,” Trixie said after they had slowed down for the climb up the narrow trail to the game preserve.
“You sound almost sorry!” her best friend said with a giggle.
“I’m not, really,” Trixie said soberly. “I’m glad. Only—if it was something so important that he had to ask Miss Trask and Moms what to do about it, how could it all be cleared up in a teeny-weeny little trip to the city? And I still wonder what it meant in the letter about a judge—”
“Oh, dear, I thought you were going to forget about that letter!”
Trixie sighed and flushed. “I’m trying to. Honest!” Honey reined in suddenly. “Look up ahead!” she said quietly.
Startled, Trixie reined in Susie and shielded her eyes from the slanting beam of sunlight coming down past the snow-laden trees. “Dan Mangan. And he’s having quite a time on those high heels!”
Far ahead, slipping and sliding in the lightly packed snow, Dan Mangan, carrying a load of schoolbooks, was making his way unsteadily among the trees.
Impulsively Honey started up her horse and rode toward the boy in the black leather jacket. Trixie hesitated a moment and then followed, wondering what Honey was up to.
Dan Mangan heard the sound of Starlight’s hooves and looked back, startled. When he saw who was coming, he scowled and stepped back off the path to let them go by.
But Honey pulled in a few feet away from him. “How about a lift? Those boots are too slippery for snow!” She laughed. “Climb on behind. We’re on our way right now to see Mr. Maypenny.”
The Black Jacket Mystery Page 5
