The Black Jacket Mystery

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The Black Jacket Mystery Page 7

by Campbell, Julie


  “Yeeks! I forgot again!” Trixie dashed for the door.

  “Wait for me!” Honey laughed, and a moment later they were running down the driveway, headed for the Belden farm.

  The telephone was ringing in the kitchen when they came dashing in. Mrs. Belden, looking very harassed, was trying to peel potatoes and keep Bobby out of the cookie jar at the same time.

  “I’ll talk to you later!” she told Trixie. “Take over with Bobby. Get him ready for dinner. And, Honey, look at the roast, please.” She dashed for the phone.

  The girls obeyed the orders quickly, but, as Trixie was leading Bobby upstairs for a wash-up, she heard her mother say, “Why, yes, Miss Trask. I think it’s a splendid idea. It might help a lot.”

  A few minutes later, when Honey joined her to help with Bobby and wash her own hands and face, she was full of curiosity about the conversation. “Did Moms tell you what Miss Trask’s splendid idea was? I’m dying to hear it!”

  “Goodness, you hear everything!” Honey teased her. Then she sobered. “It was about Dan Mangan. She’s given Regan permission to lend old Spartan to Mr. Maypenny so Dan can do his patrolling in the game preserve on horseback.”

  “I suppose Miss Trask wants us to teach him how to ride!” Trixie frowned.

  “I don’t mind. I’ll be glad to. We can talk to him about it tomorrow morning while were all waiting for the bus.”

  But Dan Mangan didn’t take that bus to school. He had gone in earlier. And all that week he went in earlier than they did, and when he met any of them on the school grounds, he either pretended not to see them, or he answered them as briefly as possible.

  At lunch on Friday, he sat with a group of boys a couple of tables away from the Bob-Whites, and he seemed to be very popular with them as he swaggered and sprawled at the table and talked big about his life in the city.

  “Listen to him!” Trixie whispered darkly to Jim. “That story he’s telling about how he talked back to the police captain when he was arrested! I bet he never was arrested in his whole life! And if he was, I bet he was too scared to peep!” She laughed, but Jim didn’t laugh with her.

  Instead, Jim looked serious. The others were busy talking over details of the carnival plans with Di Lynch, and Jim took the opportunity to speak soberly to Trixie.

  “I don’t know why Dan Mangan’s out in the country here working for Mr. Maypenny, but I get the idea, somehow, that he isn’t here because he wants to be. And I can tell by the look in his eyes that, no matter how big he talks, he’s scared.” Trixie frowned. “That’s sort of funny, Jim. You know, Honey said almost the same thing. She thought he looked sad, too. But I think he just looks ornery.”

  “I know somebody else who had the same reputation not so long ago. He was a runaway kid who didn’t believe anybody would want to be friends with him. Then he met two girls who made him change his mind. They even helped give him a sister and a dad and mother he’s very fond of.” Trixie looked at him solemnly a moment. “You mean you. And thanks for saying nice things about Honey and me. But it isn’t fair for you to say you were like Dan Mangan. You didn’t wear a black leather jacket and silly cowboy boots and talk about what a big man you were someplace else!”

  Jim’s eyes twinkled. “There’s nothing wrong with a black leather jacket, Trix. It’s warm. And it’s probably all Dan Mangan has to wear.”

  Trixie looked troubled. “I guess maybe you’re right, Jim.”

  “Try to be nice to the kid, Trix, even if it hurts you. You might be surprised. He could turn out to be quite a regular guy, once he gets used to being away from home and decides to make new friends.”

  “Well, I’ll try,” Trixie promised, but she wasn’t very sure of herself.

  She told Honey what Jim had said as they rode out the next afternoon on Susie and Starlight toward the game preserve. Mrs. Belden was sending some of her canned fruit to Mr. Maypenny. The old gamekeeper was very fond of spiced crab apples, but there wasn’t a crab-apple tree on his property.

  “So I’m waving a flag of truce at the enemy,” Trixie said airily. "I may get shot, but I’ll be doing my best to make peace.”

  Honey nodded. “Good for you!” And a moment later, as she glanced ahead and a little to one side of the trail, she reined in and said, “Get out your white flag, Trix. The enemy has been sighted. Look up there on that hill in that clump of oaks.”

  Trixie stopped Susie and squinted at the distant trees. “I don’t see—yes, there he is!” She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Yoo-hoo, Dan! We’ve got something for you!” She waved a friendly hand.

  But the slim figure in the black jacket and shiny-peaked cap disappeared among the oaks without showing any sign that he had heard Trixie calling out to him.

  “The flag of truce just came down with a dull thud,” Trixie said grimly. “He doesn’t want to be chummy.”

  They rode on, and when they were in sight of Mr. Maypenny’s sturdy little cabin, they heard the sound of hammering. The sound was coming from the barn behind the cabin, where Mr. Maypenny kept Brownie.

  “Let’s show him what we’ve brought for him,” Trixie suggested. “I love to see his face light up when he sees good food. Maybe he’ll be so happy he’ll make us some hot chocolate with cinnamon m it.

  They dismounted a few yards from the barn and tied their horses to a post. Trixie took the jar with the pinkest of the crab apples floating enticingly in syrup, and they went toward the barn.

  The hammering was still going on as they stepped in out of the wintry sunlight. They saw that a new stall was being built, and that Spartan’s name had already been lettered on a rough-finished board above it.

  But the whistler, who broke off his merry tune and straightened up at sight of them, was not Mr. Maypenny. It was Dan Mangan, in his shirtsleeves.

  “Maypenny ain’t here. He’s out checking the feeding stations,” Dan said shortly, unsmiling.

  “Oh.” Trixie was doing her best to be bright and friendly. “We thought that was you we saw out there a few minutes ago in the oak grove.”

  Dan shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been right around here ever since I got home from school last night.”

  Trixie frowned. “It didn’t look like Mr. Maypenny.”

  “Meaning you think I’m lying?” he asked curtly. “Trixie didn’t mean any such thing,” Honey said in quick defense of her friend. “She meant that whoever it was that we saw was wearing a black jacket and cap. We know that Mr. Maypenny always wears a turtleneck sweater and funny-looking wool knickers and a red cap and looks quaint.”

  “You saw somebody wearing a black jacket and a cap?” Dan asked, suddenly serious.

  “Of course we did,” Trixie said impatiently. “And you saw us, too. You were looking right at us when we waved. And I don’t know why you’re trying to say it wasn’t you.”

  “Because it wasn’t!” Dan’s black eyes snapped with anger. “It was either old Maypenny you saw or some tramp.”

  “Hey, maybe it was a tramp, Honey!” Trixie hadn’t thought of that possibility before. “He didn’t want us to see him, so he ducked.”

  “I suppose it could have been,” Honey agreed, “unless Mr. Maypenny has borrowed your jacket and cap.”

  “Nope,” Dan said flatly. He cocked his thumb toward the wall of the other stall where old Spartan was calmly munching on oats and ignoring them. “There’s my stuff.” He laughed suddenly. “You two better get yourselves some eyeglasses. You’ve been seeing things.”

  “But—” Trixie flushed angrily at his tone of voice. She wasn’t used to being sneered at. When Mart teased her, it was always in fun. This dark-haired boy seemed to mean it, and it hurt.

  Honey laid a hand on Trixie’s arm and stopped her from making an angry reply. “Let’s leave the fruit at the house. We’ll be late getting home, and your mother will have a fit.” She drew Trixie away before there could be any more argument.

  “I still don’t understa
nd it,” Trixie said crossly as they rode home along the trail a few minutes later.

  “I suppose it’s simple enough.” Honey sighed. “We saw Mr. Maypenny up in the oak grove. And it was so shadowy up among those trees that we both made a mistake about what he was wearing. Those snow patches are so bright up there when the sun hits them that it probably dazzled our eyes.”

  “Maybe, but I still don’t believe it,” Trixie insisted stubbornly. “Look up there, on top of that rock—up ahead. That must be over fifty yards away, and I can see a baby squirrel sitting there just as plain as if he were only ten feet from us. Well, if we can see things that far away when the woods are shadowier than they were half an hour ago, why, we must have seen whoever was in the oak grove a great deal clearer. And I still say it was Dan Mangan, no matter what he says. He’s the only person around Sleepyside who wears a black leather jacket and a funny black cap!”

  “But why is he being so stubborn about admitting it?” Honey asked, puzzled.

  “I think I know!” Trixie’s blue eyes sparkled. “I bet Mr. Maypenny told him not to leave the yard, and he’s been out prowling around in the woods instead. He was afraid that you and I might tell Mr. Maypenny on him if he owned up to it!”

  “You could be right,” Honey agreed, looking relieved. “In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure you are. It’s too bad.”

  “What is?” Trixie was surprised.

  “That Dan thinks we would have tattled. All he would have had to do was to ask us not to say anything about seeing him out there, and we wouldn’t have.”

  Trixie looked uncomfortable. “I guess it’s my fault,” she sighed. “I try to be nice to him3 but— well, he just sort of rubs me the wrong way, Honey. You know, they say if you rub a cat’s fur die wrong way, it sends out sparks. That’s me, shooting out sparks. And I can’t seem to stop.”

  The Big Cat • 10

  THE TWO GIRLS rode in silence for a few minutes, guiding the horses carefully down the narrow, rocky trail that was still bordered with patches of snow.

  Here and there, where some of the snow had melted, it was slippery going for the horses, and they were well splashed with mud.

  “Boy! Will we have a messy job cleaning up these animals!” Trixie grumbled. “Why does the snow have to melt into nasty old mud? The only person that likes mud is Bobby. I think he likes the taste of it—”

  Trixie broke off suddenly as something in the patch of snow close to her drew her attention. She reined in, and Honey, coming close behind on Starlight, had to stop suddenly to avoid bumping into her. Starlight snorted his disapproval.

  Trixie leaned down from her saddle and studied some marks in the snow. “Look at this. What kind of animal do you suppose left these tracks?”

  Honey tried to look past Starlight’s head, but it was hard to do. “What do they look like? You’re my big brother Jim’s star pupil when it comes to wildlife.”

  “His dumbest, you mean.” Trixie corrected her with a grin. “I’m the one who got all excited about seeing a wolf track a couple of weeks ago, and it turned out to be Reddy’s!” Reddy was the Belden’s wholly untrained but lovable red setter.

  “I remember!” Honey smiled. “We had a lot of fun about it.”

  “These aren’t wolf or Reddy tracks, though. These were made by an animal of the cat family. I see the thick pad marks.” Trixie swung out of her saddle to examine them.

  Honey hesitated a moment and then dismounted. She looped her reins over her wrist as she led Starlight closer and bent to study the tracks.

  Trixie pointed. “See the claw marks there?”

  “Claw marks? Ugh!” Honey stared at the tracks. “Trix, if a cat has feet and claws that big, it’s a lot bigger cat than I want to meet! Let’s get out of here!”

  “Oh, pooh! It’s probably just a wildcat. They aren’t much bigger than Mr. Lytell’s big ol’ tomcat, but they do have bigger feet, I guess.”

  “Wildcat?” Honey glanced around apprehensively, half expecting to see the cat.

  “Jim says there are wildcats up in the highest peales of the Catskills. But they don’t come down this low very often. And there even are catamounts.”

  “Catamounts? You mean those big mountain lions?” Honey’s eyes were pools of alarm. “What are they doing here?”

  “Just living on littler animals, I guess. Jim says this whole valley used to be full of bears and catamounts and bison. The settlers had plenty of trouble with them.”

  “But, suppose a wildcat did leave those tracks. Wouldn’t it be a good idea to go before he decides to make a meal of us?” Honey shivered.

  Trixie chuckled. “Jim says they’re afraid of people. They’d never attack a man unless they were practically starving, and he looked tasty.” She grinned at Honey. “I don’t know what they’d think of us”

  “Ugh! Don’t talk like that!” Honey knew Trixie was only joking, but she didn’t relish the thought of being on a wildcat’s dinner menu. “Do you think we ought to ride back and tell Mr. Maypenny about seeing these tracks? He’ll want to hunt down the creature before it slaughters any of our darling deer!”

  Trixie got to her feet suddenly. “Honey! You know what I think? I bet Mr. Maypenny is out hunting this wildcat right now. That’s why he wasn’t at the cabin! I thought there was something funny about his being out checking the feeding stations this late in the day. He probably told Dan to tell us that, in case we came by, so we wouldn’t worry if we heard he was tracking a wildcat!”

  Honey nodded, but she looked around uneasily. “Maybe it’s still around somewhere close. We’d better go.”

  “Pooh! Don’t worry! Jim says they hunt only at night. It’s probably asleep in a nice warm cave somewhere right now.”

  The words were hardly out of her mouth before a weird, hoarse cry came from somewhere on the side of the mountain only a few hundred yards away.

  Instantly the two horses panicked, and while the yowl echoed and reechoed through the woods, they fought to get away. Snorting loudly, Starlight tried to free herself from the reins still wrapped around Honey’s wrist. Honey struggled to control her, slipping and sliding on the rocky, muddy ground of the trail.

  Susie reared and pawed the air, whinnying with fright. Trixie had to retreat or be hit by the flailing hooves of her usually gentle mount. The moment that Trixie was out of the way, Susie came down on all fours and ran down the trail. “Come back here, you silly!” Trixie shouted. “Whoa, Susie! Good girl!

  Whoa!” She plunged down the trail after the runaway.

  There was no telling when she would have caught up with the terrified horse, except that Susie’s dangling reins caught in a crevice between two rocks along the trail and halted her with a violent jerk. It pulled her almost off her feet and left her so confused and frightened that Trixie had very little trouble, a moment later, taking control of her. Step by step, Trixie led her back up the trail to where Honey was just getting Starlight calmed.

  Both horses were trembling so violently and were so skittish that the girls had difficulty remounting. Once they were in their saddles again and had started Starlight and Susie homeward, they never slackened their pace till they were safely out on Glen Road.

  “That cat thing was practically on our n-n-necks,” Trixie said, shuddering, as they turned in at the Wheeler driveway. “I think maybe Starlight and Susie could smell it, whatever it was.”

  It was almost dark by the time they had groomed the horses and taken care of the tack. They noticed that the rest of the horses had been attended to and fed, but there was no sign of any of the boys or of Regan.

  “I’m almost scared to walk home,” Trixie said as they started out with their flashlights. “I know I’ll be feeling big yellow cat’s eyes watching every step and switching their tails ready to pounce!”

  “Cat’s eyes with tails?” Mart called out from the bench at the bus stop. “Where do you get those?” At the sound of his voice, each girl gave a little shriek of surprise, but a m
oment later they were telling him about the wildcat they had almost met.

  “Huh!” Mart got up and fell into step with them, holding an arm of each. “That’s one of the best excuses for being late, Miss Alibi, that you’ve ever thought up! Congratulations!”

  “I’m afraid Moms won’t think much of it, even if it is true!” Trixie moaned. “I can see the fire in her eyes from here!”

  “Surprise!” Mart grinned. “Dad and Moms went to White Plains on a shopping expedition, and Jim and Brian are whipping up a delectable repast of hot dogs and hamburgers for us all. So no scolding tonight!”

  “Thank goodness!” Trixie said fervently. “After all we’ve been through, I just know I wouldn’t have been able to live another minute if Moms had so much as frowned at me!”

  “And now that my moron sister is back to normal, suppose you let me tell you that Jim has finished sketching the posters, and tomorrow you artists start filling in the colors, pr-ronto! So Brian and I will be able to distribute them to the worthy merchants who have promised their support—to say nothing of the prizes were hoping they’ll donate, one and all!”

  “We’ll get at them first thing in the morning!” Trixie promised. “Where are the posters now?”

  “At the banquet hall—I mean, our kitchen.”

  They were turning in at the gate of Crabapple Farm just then, laughing and talking excitedly, when Jim appeared on the front porch and rang the old-fashioned dinner gong.

  “Coming, son!” Mart shouted, and they all trooped up onto the porch and into the house.

  The boys had set the kitchen table for the meal, and Bobby had been enthroned at one end, well out of the line of traffic. His eyes were big with excitement, and he yelled, “Hi, Trixie and Honey! Look at me!” to the girls as they entered. “I’m hungry!”

  “Don’t rush the cook, buddy!” Brian warned as he stood over the stove in a haze of smoke from well-sizzled hamburgers. “And the rest of you, finish setting the table!”

  There was so much excitement over the amateur cooking going on and so much confusion for the next few minutes that the girls didn’t tell their experiences in the woods. But when they finally all sat down to enjoy the scorched hamburgers, plus all the trimmings that Mrs. Belden had left perfectly prepared for their dinner, Trixie announced, “You’re just lucky we ever got here tonight,” in her most dramatic tone.

 

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