“Now, that sounds like a cue line,” Brian told her gravely. “Am I supposed to ask you to go on?”
“Just try and stop her!” Mart snickered.
But when Trixie, with Honey’s excited help, had told about the wildcat tracks and the horrible howling that had panicked their horses, Jim didn’t laugh or try to joke about it.
“Just how big were the tracks?” he asked Trixie seriously. “And about how far apart were they?” And when the girls had agreed on the size of the tracks and measured off along the table edge just about how great the distance had been between them, Jim nodded grimly. “It sounds to me as if you missed meeting a lot bigger animal than a mere wildcat!”
“Catamount?” Brian asked quickly.
Jim nodded, his expression serious. “Possibly. And from the length of its stride, if the girls remember rightly, it was a granddaddy of its species!”
“No wonder those poor mares were hysterical!” Trixie shivered. “I hope Mr. Maypenny—er—catches up with it.” She glanced at Bobby as she hastily substituted the word “catches” for “kills,” the word she had started to say.
Jim noticed her glance and nodded reassuringly. “Oh, I imagine he will. He has quite a reputation in Sleepyside as a—uh—catamount catcher.”
“I wanna go see the kitty. Trixie said we could have another kitty. Maybe I can have this one. Huh, Trixie?” Bobby’s eyes reflected his excitement. “I hope it has spots.”
“I’m afraid not, Bobby,” Brian spoke quickly. “Not this kind of kitty. It’s a dirty-looking tan color, and—”
“And it has long, sharp claws!” Trixie concluded for him.
“Oh!” Bobby wrinkled his nose. “I guess I don’t want it.”
Mart said, “Next spring, you and I will go looking together for a cute little kitty that you can cuddle. I think I know where there’ll be a whole family of them—in Mr. Maypenny’s barn. And you can pick out the one you want How’s that skipper?”
“You’ll forget” Bobby’s eyes were misty and his lower lip began to tremble, a sure sign of tears on the way.
“Cross my heart an’ hope to die,” his big brother promised solemnly and went through the necessary motions.
“Now eat the rest of your dinner, and I’ll read you two whole stories at bedtime, any two you want to hear-how’s that?” Honey asked him gaily.
“Okay!” Sunshine broke through the clouds, and Bobby went back contentedly to the rest of his slightly charred but tasty hamburger sandwich, while the carefully guarded talk went on around him. There was a strict rule in the Belden household that Bobby should not be terrified by fearsome stories at any time, and least of all just before bedtime. His imagination was a little too strong sometimes, as it was, and required no further stimulation.
Jim spoke casually. “I think Brian and I will ride out that way tomorrow, or Monday before school. I want to see those tracks if they’re still there. I may measure and sketch them for a paper I’m doing on the carnivores of our valley.”
“Good idea,” Brian agreed. “And, meanwhile, you girls stick around home for a change. We’ll exercise your horses for you, while you get busy coloring those posters. Jim’s managed to get some terrific ideas in them, and we’re anxious to have a few painted and ready to place around town where our book-donating customers can see them.”
“We’ll get right on them,” Trixie assured him. She was just as eager to have the posters finished as the boys were. She and Honey had written Dolores and Lupe about the ice carnival benefit they were planning, and she wanted to be able to tell them in her next letter that things were shaping up just fine.
All three of the boys drifted over to talk to Regan after dinner. And, for once, Trixie didn’t mind not having them help with the dishes. She was tired, and she didn’t think she could stand any of Mart’s teasing tonight.
Honey had trotted Bobby up to bed as soon as the boys had left and was probably, Trixie thought wearily, in the middle of the second of those all-too-familiar stories by this time. Honey was a real friend, and Trixie decided she wouldn’t know how
to get along without her now.
The hallway door swung open with a bang, and Honey, her big hazel eyes wide with alarm, rushed in. “Trixie!”
Trixie almost dropped the dish she was washing. “What’s happened? Bobby?”
“No.” Honey sank onto the nearest chair and pushed up her left sweater sleeve to show her bare wrist. “My watch! It’s gone!”
More Suspicions • 11
OH,IS THAT ALL?” Trixie was weak with relief that there was nothing the matter with Bobby. “You probably forgot to put it on this morning.”
Honey shook her head, big tears starting to fill her eyes. “No. I remember, this morning when I was dressing I took it out of my leather jewel box to look at it-”
Trixie interrupted. “I didn’t know you kept it there. I thought you hung it on that ceramic jewelry tree where I put mine every night when I take it off.”
Honey nodded. “I do. That watch, my everyday one. This was the one Mom gave me that her mother gave her when she finished school. My very best dress-up watch.”
“You wore that one to go riding?” Trixie was frankly shocked. “What on earth for?”
“I don’t know. I just thought, ‘It’s so pretty. I’ll wear it today and enjoy it!’ ” She burst into sobs. “What am I going to do?”
“Stop crying first,” Trixie advised, patting her shoulder, “and maybe we can think of something. I’m sure it can’t be very far away. Let’s start thinking of a way to find it.”
They had been many places and done many things that day. The stables, the clubhouse—it was going to be hard to decide where to begin looking.
“Let’s see, now. Where could you have loosened it accidentally and not noticed?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” Honey had almost dried her tears, but they started to flow again. “It had such a good, strong catch on it. It was hard to open. I always had to pull a lot on it before I could get it unfastened. Mom said that the catch was made like that because the watch was so valuable!”
“Mmmm.” Trixie was thinking. “Let’s see, now. If something pulled on your wrist—hey, wait a sec! Remember how you kept hold of the reins when you dismounted to look at those cat tracks? Which hand did you use?”
“Why, I looped the reins over my wrist”—Honey touched her bare left wrist—“this one, naturally.”
“Don’t you see?” Trixie was excited. “Starlight tried to pull loose, and the reins must have sprung open the catch on your watchband!”
“Trixie! My watch is probably lying out there in the woods right now!”
“Well, it could be,” Trixie admitted with a grin. “So let’s start looking there tomorrow morning.”
“Wonderful!” Honey beamed. Then, just as suddenly, she looked worried. “Only—Brian said we shouldn’t ride.”
“That’s mostly because he thinks we’re afraid of the cat! But the thing’s probably miles and miles away by now, or it will be by morning.”
“Or else Mr. Maypenny may have shot it,” Honey suggested eagerly.
“We’ll have to get the horses out before the boys are stirring. Are you game?” Trixie asked. “Of course, if we run into Regan, he may forbid us to go.”
“We don’t have to tell him which way we are riding, do we?” Honey’s eyes sparkled.
“Of course not! We can start off as if we were merely going to the crossroads to see Mr. Lytell at his store, and then cut across to the road to the preserve.”
And that’s just what they did early the next morning before anyone was up.
They tiptoed down to the kitchen in the early dawn of the winter day, snatched a glass of milk and a cold biscuit apiece to sustain them till breakfast, and then stole out by way of the kitchen door.
Mrs. Belden, going quietly into Bobby’s room to see if he was covered, saw them going down the path to the gate, still unconsciously tiptoeing. “Now what are those two up
to?” She smiled to herself. “Probably hurrying over to the clubhouse to light the stove so it will be comfortable to paint there today.”
The sun was just coming up as the girls walked their horses out of the Wheeler stables and down the driveway. The frosty air nipped their ears and reddened the tips of their noses, but they took long, deep breaths as they trudged along leading their favorites, Starlight and Susie.
Once they were past the clubhouse and out of range of the driveway and the garage at the head of it, they mounted and trotted the two mares along the road toward the turnoff that led up into the game preserve.
It was very quiet along Glen Road. Sleepyside traffic started late on Sundays. The woods were even more quiet, and cold. The girls both were a little sorry that they had come out alone so early in the morning. It would have been lots more cheerful to have the boys with them.
“How much farther is it to where we stopped?” Trixie asked. “Things look different when the shadows point the other way.”
“It can’t be more than half a mile; remember?” Honey was trying to be cheerful. “We’ll snatch up the watch and turn around and head for home.”
“You bet!” Trixie agreed fervently.
A moment later Susie stumbled on a loose rock and struggled to regain her footing. And when she went on, she limped a little on her left front hoof.
The moment Trixie noticed the limp, she stopped the little mare and dismounted. “I’d better see if she’s picked up a pebble,” she told Honey. “Won’t take a minute.”
“Were almost there, anyhow,” Honey answered cheerfully. “No rush.” But she looked around her nervously and stared up toward the higher slopes on either side of the trail for signs of last evening’s cat.
Trixie examined Susie’s hoof. “Oops I There it is. A sharp-pointed, nasty little stone. Poor li’l Susie-Ill get it out right now.” She used a small stick to pry out the offending pebble.
Honey suddenly sat erect in the saddle, her eyes wide. “Ssss!” she signaled to Trixie. “Listen!”
They both heard the crashing of brush somewhere beyond the turn of the trail. Somebody or something was coming. At first they both thought it might be the big cat, but the sound of heavy boots striking against rocks told them the newcomer was human.
“It’s probably Mr. Maypenny or Dan Mangan,” Trixie said cheerfully. She spoke in her normal voice, expecting to see one of them turning the corner at any moment. Instead, the sound of the steps stopped. Dead silence followed.
Trixie and Honey looked at each other uneasily. “A poacher!” Honey said softly. “Let’s give him time to get away. Dad says sometimes poachers get mean if they think a person has recognized them. We don’t want to see him if we can help it.”
So they waited a couple of minutes, but it was scary waiting. Not a sound came from up ahead.
“We can’t just sit here,” Trixie whispered tensely. “He’s probably watching us. We’ll have to pretend we don’t care who it was and aren’t suspicious. Let’s just ride on.”
“Okay.” Honey was uneasy. “Come on.”
Trixie mounted hastily and not too gracefully. A moment later she was riding ahead up the trail toward the game preserve, with Honey close behind her on Starlight. She even pretended a careless whistle, but it wasn’t very strong and was quite off-key.
They were almost to the cross trail where they had heard the cat’s yowl, before they felt secure. Honey had looked back along the trail several times but had seen no one. With distance between themselves and the brush-crasher, they began to feel more relaxed.
“It was probably Dan Mangan, and he was still sulking at us,” Honey said. “But he certainly didn’t have to hide.”
“I don’t think it was Dan.” Trixie looked solemn.
“I just have a feeling it was a poacher.”
“Well, here we are,” Honey said as they came in sight of the cross trail. “We’ll find my watch and then ride back home as fast as we can. If we meet anyone and he tries to stop us, we’ll ride right past in a hurry. He’ll have to move out of the way if we don’t hesitate!”
They dismounted hurriedly and tied the horses to a pair of birch saplings beside the trail.
“Here’s where Starlight was cutting up,” Honey said. “It’s probably among these rocks. Oh, I hope it didn’t get smashed!” She got down on her knees and started to search closely through the dried underbrush, hoping for a glimpse of the watch.
But Trixie, coming to help her, said suddenly, “Somebody else has been here. Look! Footprints all around on the snow patches!”
Honey stared at them a moment. “Not the boys’. None of them wears pointed cowboy boots with high heels.”
“Dan Mangan!” Trixie exclaimed. “He’s been here and probably found your watch. That’s a break!”
“I hope he found it before the wet snow got into it! Let’s go get it, and tomorrow I’ll take it to the watch repairman in Sleepyside to be checked over. What luck!” Honey was radiant with relief. “What if some stranger had found it!”
“Or if it had fallen deep in the snow and hadn’t been found till the snow melted!” Trixie added. “It might have rusted so badly it could never be fixed!” They mounted again as quickly as possible and rode on cheerfully toward the Maypenny cabin.
Mr. Maypenny was busy in his little kitchen, and the smell of hot doughnuts frying in deep fat greeted them as he opened the door at their knock.
“Bless your hearts!” He chuckled. “I had no idea my visitors would be back again so soon. Will you sit down and have some fresh milk and hot cinnamon doughnuts?”
“Oh, boy!” Trixie’s grin spread. Mr. Maypenny’s doughnuts were almost as tasty as his venison stew. “I didn’t know how hungry I was! We didn’t have any breakfast.”
Mr. Maypenny shook his head. “That’s not like Mrs. Belden, letting you two ride out on a cold morning without something warm inside you.”
“Moms didn’t know we were up, much less riding,” Trixie confided. “We had a special reason for not mentioning it to anyone.” And she told about the missing watch.
Mr. Maypenny chuckled and shook his head. “Always some excitement around you, Trixie. Did you find the watch?”
“No, but we know who did. Dan’s footprints were all around where we’re sure it fell.” Honey helped herself from the plate of sugar-and-cinnamon-covered doughnuts and started to nibble, while
Trixie poured the milk out of the old stoneware pitcher. “Did he mention it?”
“I haven’t seen the boy all morning. He was up before daylight. Skyhooted out someplace without stopping to wake me. Must be the day when people get up early!” He grinned. “You girls and Dan.”
“Wonder when he’ll be back.” Honey frowned a little. “Should we wait, Trix, or just have Mr. Maypenny tell Dan to bring the watch to school with him tomorrow?”
As she spoke, Dan Mangan came in through the kitchen door and tossed his cap expertly toward the peg on the wall.
“Oh, here you are!” Old Mr. Maypenny dumped another batch of hot doughnuts onto the plate. “The girls have come for Honey’s watch.”
“For what?” Dan’s neck stiffened, and his eyes were hard as he stared at Honey.
Honey flushed and looked uncomfortable. “Why, my watch. The one you picked up this morning at the trail crossing.”
“I haven’t seen your watch. And I haven’t been anywhere near the trail crossing.” Dan spoke angrily and glared at both the girls.
“But we saw your boot tracks all around,” Trixie retorted, stung by his antagonism. “You must have been there.”
Dan’s eyes blazed. “First I’m a liar because you think you saw me someplace yesterday where I wasn’t. Now you’re calling me a thief! You two are just looking for trouble, and if you keep on, you’re going to get it!”
“Daniel!” Mr. Maypenny shouted at him. “That’s enough of that kind of talk. Are you forgetting—” He broke off suddenly, and in a moment went on in a milder tone. “Calm do
wn, boy. It’s a misunderstanding. Honey and Trixie, tell Dan about the watch.”
“I don’t know as I want to hear,” Dan snarled angrily. “It’s nothing to me.”
“I’m sorry, Dan. Nobody meant to accuse you of stealing a thing,” Honey said gently. Then as Dan, calmed by her friendly tone, listened reluctantly, Honey explained about the loss of the watch. “So we were hoping madly you’d found it!” she concluded apologetically.
“Well, I didn’t,” Dan muttered. Then he cast a look at Trixie, who was still regarding him doubtfully. “Even though certain parties would like to say so!”
He grabbed for his cap and stalked out, slamming the door behind him. The two girls looked at each other. Trixie shrugged. So far as she was concerned, those boot marks meant he had been there at the cross trail. But Honey looked worried and unhappy.
A few minutes later, as they cantered along the main trail that led into Glen Road across from Mr. Lytell’s general store, Honey answered shortly and absentmindedly as Trixie rattled off a list of the things she intended to buy there» “And some old-fashioned peppermint sticks for Bobby. Moms asked me last week to puh-leese remember to get them next time we rode that way. She’s going to break up a couple of them into the ice-cream freezer next time she makes ice cream for dessert. Dad loves peppermint ice cream.”
“Mmmm-hmm,” Honey answered politely, but her mind was far off. “Trixie, I get the strangest feeling about Dan Mangan. He’s only as old as Mart, but he looks as if he had lived and lived and been so unhappy.”
“I think he’s just a tough kid who’s working because he needs to make some money, and he thinks it’ll be easy on a farm in winter,” Trixie said firmly. “Or else he’s in some awful kind of trouble, and he’s hiding from the police!”
The Black Jacket Mystery Page 8
