The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

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The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder Page 1

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

  21 The Mystery of the Castaway Children

  22 Mystery at Mead’s Mountain

  23 The Mystery of the Queen’s Necklace

  24 Mystery at Saratoga

  25 The Sasquatch Mystery

  26 The Mystery of the Headless Horseman

  27 The Mystery of the Ghostly Galleon

  28 The Hudson River Mystery

  29 The Mystery of the Velvet Gown

  30 The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

  31 Mystery at Maypenny’s

  32 The Mystery of the Whispering Witch

  33 The Mystery of the Vanishing Victim

  34 The Mystery of the Missing Millionaire

  Copyright © 1980 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.

  ISBN 0-307-21551-2

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

  Odd Behavior ● 1

  JEEPERS!” Trixie Belden exclaimed breathlessly as she hurried into the kitchen. “I’ve never walked so far in my entire life. It didn’t do any good, either. I couldn’t find Reddy anywhere. Did you two have any luck?”

  She flung herself into the nearest chair and gazed at her older brothers inquiringly.

  Brian looked up from his breakfast. “Hey, slow down, Trix,” he said. “What’s all this about Reddy? Isn’t he outside? Did you call him?”

  Trixie stared. “No, Reddy isn’t outside—at least, not where he’s supposed to be. And of course I called him. I’ve been calling him for the last half hour—and searching, too.” She frowned. “So where were you?”

  Mart, who had been pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate with his fork, flushed guiltily. “Sorry, Trix,” he mumbled. “I guess I forgot to give Brian your message.”

  Trixie gasped. “You forgot about Reddy?”

  Mart avoided her eye. “I did say I was sorry. Anyway, this isn’t the first time that dog’s been gone all night. Reddy’s probably chasing a rabbit through the woods or something.”

  Brian grinned with relief and relaxed against the back of his chair. “Sure,” he agreed, “I’ll bet that’s what he’s doing. If not, I expect he’s over at Manor House with Honey. Did you think of looking there?”

  Trixie bit back the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. She was a sturdy fourteen-year-old whose temper sometimes had a short fuse, though her blond curly hair and big blue eyes belied the fact.

  Right now she was struggling to hold on to that temper. After all, she thought, the boys couldn't be expected to know that I've just got back from Manor House.

  After searching the grounds of Crabapple Farm, which nestled in a green hollow not far from the Hudson River, it was only natural that Trixie should have thought next of the Wheelers’ mansion. It stood high on the neighboring hill, just west of the Beldens’ cozy farmhouse, where Trixie lived with her parents and three brothers— and Reddy.

  Trixie knew that the lovable Irish setter enjoyed the Wheelers’ huge estate as much as she did. He liked their stable full of horses and the private lake for swimming. He liked the game preserve and the woods, which were deep, dark, and mysterious, with trails that crossed and recrossed each other.

  And he particularly liked Honey Wheeler, who was the same age as Trixie, and who had been Trixie’s best friend from the day the Wheeler family had moved into Manor House.

  Trixie didn’t know what Reddy thought about all the mysteries she and Honey had solved since then. It was likely he didn’t know that the two girls had been so successful that they planned to open an office when they left school and call it the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.

  One of the girls’ first cases had been to find Jim Frayne, who had run away to upstate New York to escape from his cruel stepfather. Soon afterward, Honey’s parents had adopted Jim.

  Jim, Trixie, and Honey, together with Brian and Mart, had formed a club called the Bob-Whites of the Glen, or B.W.G.’s for short. Another neighbor, Di Lynch, and Dan Mangan, the nephew of Bill

  Regan, the Wheelers’ groom, had later become Bob-Whites, too.

  The Bob-Whites devoted themselves to helping others, as well as to solving the mysteries in which Trixie was constantly getting them involved.

  Except this time, Trixie thought crossly, I’m not having much luck getting Brian and Mart involved in finding out what’s happened to Reddy!

  “I’ve already been to Manor House,” Trixie said, trying to speak quietly and reasonably. “I couldn’t find Honey and Jim, but I asked Regan, and he hasn’t seen Reddy at all.”

  Mart, eleven months older than Trixie—almost her twin—stared at her thoughtfully. “I still think you’re worrying over nothing,” he said flatly. “Reddy can take care of himself. He’s always done it before.”

  Trixie leaned across the table toward him. “But this time it’s different,” she insisted. “This time I think something’s happened to him.”

  “What sort of something?” Brian demanded. His dark eyes watched her steadily.

  For a long moment, Trixie didn’t answer. Now that she was sure they were willing to listen, she wanted to be certain she remembered everything exactly the way it had happened.

  Around them, the old farmhouse, where three generations of Beldens had lived, was unusually quiet. This was because Trixie’s parents, almost before the sun was up, had taken her youngest brother, six-year-old Bobby, and had gone to Albany for the day, to visit friends. They would not be back until late this evening.

  Now, on this March morning, Trixie was wishing with all her heart that they hadn’t gone so soon. Dad and Moms would have helped search for Reddy—and they would have done it without arguing.

  “Come on, Trix,” Mart said impatiently. “What d’you think has happened to that dumb dog of ours?”

  Trixie sighed. “That’s just it—I don’t know,” she confessed. “But it all began last night. It was late, and I was upstairs in my room getting ready for bed....”

  Her story didn’t take long to tell. But while she spoke, remembering what she had seen, her large blue eyes were troubled.

  Some small sound from outside had drawn her to the bedroom window. She’d been just in time to see the dog’s long, graceful body disappearing silently around the corner of the house.

  Something about him had made her heart skip a beat. He’d looked oddly alert and intent. It was almost as if he’d just received an urgent summons, one that he could neither ignore nor resist.

  At first Tri
xie thought the dog had spotted an intruder. She had even strained her ears to listen for Reddy’s warning bark. But there had been nothing, not even the sound of his movements as he made his way to some mysterious canine destination of his own.

  “So I didn’t think any more about it,” she finished. “But don’t you see? Wherever it was he went, he didn’t come back. And I’ve got this funny idea that keeps going around and around in my head—”

  She stopped and shot an apprehensive look at Mart. She realized she had just given him another chance to tease her. Teasing Trixie was one of Mart’s favorite occupations.

  She waited for him to say something typical, like “The peculiar idea circulates through your peculiar cranium because there’s nothing inside to stop it.”

  But Mart, who loved to use big words but could never spell them, said nothing. He merely continued to poke at his scrambled eggs.

  Trixie was so surprised by his silence that she completely forgot what she was going to tell them next.

  It was Brian who prompted her. “What funny idea keeps going around in your head?” he asked.

  Trixie hesitated, then said in a rush, “I keep thinking that maybe Reddy’s hurt. Or maybe he’s shut up somewhere accidentally, and he can’t get out.”

  Puzzled, she stole another look at Mart. She was no longer sure he was even listening.

  Seventeen-year-old Brian rose from the table and took his empty plate to the sink. “I still think you’re worrying about nothing, Trix,” he told her over his shoulder. “Reddy probably spotted a rabbit last night—or maybe it was a squirrel. Dumb dog! He ought to have learned by now that he won’t catch any of ’em. They’re always too quick for him.”

  “But supposing I’m right and you’re wrong, what then?” Trixie retorted.

  Brian had begun washing his dishes, but now he sighed, reached for a kitchen towel, and began wiping his hands. “Okay, Trix,” he said quietly. “What d’you want us to do?”

  “I want you to come and help me look for him.” Trixie tried to keep the note of triumph out of her voice. She had won! Soon, with a little luck, Reddy would be found!

  “I’ve only got one more question,” Brian said. “What are you going to do about the others?”

  “Others?”

  “The other Bob-Whites,” Brian explained patiently. “They’ll be here soon to take us to school.

  We volunteered to work on the grounds this morning as part of the cleanup crew, remember?”

  Trixie clutched her blond curls with both hands. “Gleeps!” she exclaimed. “I forgot!”

  Mart looked up suddenly and grinned. “See, Trix?” he said, the teasing note back in his voice. “I’m not the only one with a bad memory today.“

  “Of course,” Brian added, “most of the Bob-Whites didn’t exactly volunteer their services. One Bob-White volunteered for all of us. She told us everyone at school was going to help.”

  “But that’s right,” Trixie said breathlessly. “The custodian’s sick, you see, and what with the spring dance coming up next week, there’s a lot to do. So when Mr. Stratton asked for volunteers to help clean up the school—”

  Mart grunted. “We know, Trix. You’re the one who volunteered us.”

  Trixie nodded. “Except now, I don’t want to go anywhere till we’ve found Reddy. Oh, jeepers! What am I going to do?”

  Brian had turned back to the sink and was washing his dishes again. “You could answer that,” he suggested as the telephone rang.

  Trixie leaped out of her chair and ran to take the call. When she turned away from the phone a moment later, her eyes were sparkling.

  “It’s okay,” she sang out. “That was Miss Trask, and guess what!” Her happy smile widened as she thought of Honey’s kind former governess, who helped run the Wheelers’ estate.

  “She’s found Reddy?” Brian asked, smiling at his sister’s enthusiasm.

  “Well, Miss Trask didn’t exactly find Reddy,” Trixie answered excitedly, “but she was talking to Mr. Lytell. And he thinks he saw our dog not ten minutes ago.”

  “Aha!” Mart said softly. “So the case is closed.“

  “You were right, Mart,” Trixie said. “He’s in the woods—that is, Reddy’s in the woods—at least, that’s where Mr. Lytell thinks he saw him.“

  “There’s more,” Brian said. “I can feel it in my bones.”

  “So can we go get him in your jalopy, Brian?” Trixie asked. “I know exactly where to look, honestly! It’s about a mile from Mr. Lytell’s general store, and just off Glen Road—though why Reddy went there and what he’s up to, I’ll never know. Okay, Brian?”

  Without waiting for his answer, she raced into the living room and grabbed her red Bob-White jacket from the couch, where she had thrown it only minutes before.

  Her heart was singing as she shrugged herself into it, and she smiled, thinking of clever Honey, who had made matching jackets for all seven BobWhites. Neatly cross-stitched across the backs of each one were the letters B. W.G.

  When she ran back into the kitchen, she was glad to see Brian reaching for his Bob-White jacket, too.

  He grinned at her. “I guess I’ll have to take you, Trix,” he said. “I’ll never hear the last of it if I don’t.”

  Trixie laughed happily. “Listen, Mart,” she said, as they turned to leave, “if the others arrive before we get back—”

  Mart chuckled. “Sure, I’ll explain what’s happened. I’ll tell them you’ve gone to solve the mystery of the missing dog.” He rose from the table and hurried away to finish his morning chores.

  Trixie paused and stared down at Mart’s untouched breakfast. “And when we get back, Brian,” she said, “I’ll solve that other mystery, too.”

  “What other mystery?” Brian asked, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for his car keys.

  “The mystery of the ever-starving Belden,” Trixie said slowly, “except Mart doesn’t seem to be starving anymore. You know, Brian, I don’t think Mart’s been eating much for the last few days. D’you think he’s worrying about something?”

  Brian shook his head. “No, I don’t think Mart’s worried about a thing.”

  But as Trixie climbed into the front seat of Brian’s jalopy, she was suddenly sure he was wrong.

  A few minutes later, Trixie had pushed all thoughts of Mart to the back of her mind as Brian drove east along Glen Road. Soon, at Trixie’s insistence, the car was slowed to a snail’s pace.

  “We’re nearly there, Brian,” Trixie warned, her keen eyes trying to watch both sides of the road at once.

  Brian grunted. “We might be there, Trix, but don’t expect Reddy to come running to meet us. He could be miles away by now.”

  “He is there, Brian!” Trixie cried excitedly as she caught sight of a sudden flash of bright color through the trees. She caught at her brother’s arm. “It’s Reddy! I’m sure of it! This is exactly the place Mr. Lytell described to Miss Trask. Oh, stop, Brian, stop!”

  “Hey, watch out, Trix!” Brian exclaimed, pulling to the side of the road. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to grab someone who’s trying to drive? You could have had us both in the ditch!” Trixie wasn’t listening. Already she had jumped out of the car and was running toward the woods.

  “Reddy?” she called. “Reddy, you bad dog! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you—”

  The words died in her throat.

  “Did you find him?” Brian asked, as he raced to join her.

  Trixie pointed.

  Above their heads, tall branches, not yet in bud, raised long, bare arms to the sky. Ahead, the early morning sunshine splashed dappled patterns of light across the fragrant trail that led deeper into the forest.

  But Trixie had eyes only for the low bush directly ahead of her. She saw only the bright spot of color that she, and Mr. Lytell before her, had mistaken for the Beldens’ Irish setter.

  “What is it?” Brian asked.

  Trixie ran forward and plucked the red scrap of ma
terial from its resting place. Now that she had it in her hand, she could tell that this wasn’t anything like the color of Reddy’s golden chestnut coat.

  What she had seen had been an optical illusion—a trick that the golden sunlight had played on her eyes, and on Mr. Lytell’s, too.

  Brian frowned. “You know, Trix, that piece of material looks just as if it came from a man’s red flannel shirt.”

  Wordlessly, Trixie nodded her agreement.

  “But what does it mean?” Brian asked.

  All at once, Trixie had to blink back the hot tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. “It means,” she said, choking back a sob, “that we haven’t found Reddy, after all. Oh, Brian, where can he be?”

  Worries for Trixie ● 2

  TEN MINUTES LATER, even Trixie had to admit that it was useless to search any farther.

  Ahead, the woods stretched dense and still, while the trail they had been following ended suddenly in a dark tangle of underbrush.

  “It’s no good, Brian,” Trixie said hopelessly. “Reddy could be anywhere.”

  Brian, who had come this far only at her insistence, ran his hand through his dark, wavy hair and frowned. “You know, Trix,” he said, “I’ve been thinking. We’re going at this all wrong. What we need is a search party and horses—”

  “—and Bob-Whites!” Trixie exclaimed.

  “Oh, Brian, you’re right! D’you think that the others would come and help?” she added.

  Brian grinned at her. “You know they will. I still think you’re worrying about nothing, but I can see none of us are going to get any peace till we find that dog.”

  He turned and began leading the way back along the trail.

  Trixie hurried to catch up with him. “But what about the work we’re supposed to do at school? Everyone knows the Bob-Whites volunteered—”

  Brian chuckled. “I doubt we’ll get yelled at if we’re late. More likely, no one will notice our absence at all. We’re just going to have to put first things first this morning. So first, we’ll find Reddy. Then, if there’s time, we’ll drive to school to help out.”

 

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