Trixie listened to the rain as it beat against the windows. “I’m sure the horses are fine, Jim,” she said, with more conviction than she felt.
“In any case,” Honey put in, “there’s not much we can do about it, anyway.” She sighed. “Could someone decide how we’re going to catch the Midnight Marauder if he comes?”
The three put their heads together and made plans. For the sake of the servants, Jim suggested that they should pretend to go to bed. They would stay in their rooms until the house was quiet and then creep downstairs again and meet in the cozy, book-lined library. From there, all three Bob-Whites would keep watch on the house and plan to jump on any intruder if he appeared.
Honey was not at all sure about the jumping part, and she said so as she watched her brother check all the doors and windows in the house before following the girls upstairs.
He paused outside Honey’s room. “Don’t worry about it,” he told his sister. “I’ll do the jumping, and you can do the yelling. We’ll make such a noise that we may scare him away, or else we’ll get the servants to help us tie him up. Just don’t forget and fall asleep. Remember, it’s eleven o’clock now. We’ll meet downstairs in about an hour and then take our places.”
“I won’t fall asleep,” Trixie whispered back indignantly. “This is the chance I’ve been waiting for. I just hope the Midnight Marauder’s going to make it tonight, that’s all.”
The two girls watched as Jim quietly closed his bedroom door behind him.
“You know, Trix,” Honey said, her voice low, “there’s something about all this that really puzzles me.”
“Only one thing?” Trixie asked, leading the way into her friend’s neat room.
Honey sat on the edge of her bed and took off her shoes. “Why would anyone send a warning letter before committing a crime?”
Trixie frowned. “You know,” she replied slowly, “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.” Afterward, Trixie was never quite certain exactly what had happened next.
She knew that one minute she, too, had removed her shoes and was stretched out beside Honey. She even remembered staring up at the ceiling and wondering if Miss Trask and Regan were even now on their way home. But she remembered nothing more until she felt someone shaking her shoulder.
“Trixie!” Honey was whispering urgently. “Oh, Trix, please wake up and listen.”
“Huh? Wh-What?” Trixie sat bolt upright and stared into her friend’s worried face.
“You were asleep, Trix,” Honey said, glancing over her shoulder at the windows behind her.
Trixie gasped when she looked at the clock on the bedside table. Its hands pointed to two o’clock!
“Gleeps!” she exclaimed. “I must have dozed off! How could it have happened? And where’s Jim?”
“I think Jim’s fallen asleep, too,” Honey said quietly. “I’m afraid we all did.”
Quickly, Trixie swung her bare feet to the floor and stood up. “I don’t understand how we could have been so dumb!” she said. “And what is it I’m supposed to listen to? I don’t hear anything.”
“But that’s just the point.” Honey gripped her friend’s arm. “I don’t hear anything, either! There’s no wind. There’s no rain. The storm is over, Trix. And if the Midnight Marauder is going to visit this house, now would be the best time to do it!”
Trixie gasped. “You’re right! And I’ve just thought of something else. Suppose he’s already been here!”
She hurried to the window and pulled aside the crisp, white, ruffled organdy curtains and gazed out at the soaked landscape.
As she did so, the moon suddenly sailed out from behind a dark cloud bank. It turned the dripping trees and wet grass to silver. It shone on Glen Road, which wound like a wet ribbon across the land.
It shone on a dark figure at the bottom of the hill. Whoever it was was moving noiselessly toward the stable and the helpless horses inside it.
At the figure’s heels, there frisked a golden Irish setter whose long plumed tail streamed like a banner behind him.
Reddy!
The Marauder Strikes Again ● 11
IN ANOTHER INSTANT, Trixie had grabbed her jacket and thrust her feet into her shoes and was running across the room. As she wrenched open the door, she almost ran headlong into Jim, who, still fully dressed, had been about to knock.
“A fine watchdog I turned out to be!” he exclaimed bitterly, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. “I only meant to rest on my bed for a second—”
“But we’re not too late yet, Jim,” Trixie whispered urgently. “The Midnight Marauder’s at the stable right now!” She clutched his arm. “I don’t know how it happened, but he’s got Reddy with him! Who knows what he’ll do!”
“What?” Jim shot her one startled look and bolted for the head of the stairs.
A second later, Trixie and Honey were right at his heels.
Soon they were racing across the verandah and down the hill. They were still some distance away when they saw the dark figure wrestle open the stable doors. As they watched, he slipped inside. And Reddy, his tail wagging jubilantly, padded after him.
“Ooh, that dog!” Trixie gasped breathlessly. “Doesn’t he know he’s supposed to keep intruders out? Wait till I get my hands on him!”
Jim stopped their headlong rush by holding up his hand. “Listen,” he whispered, “we know now that we’ve got the Midnight Marauder trapped. He’s inside, and there’s no way he can escape. If we’re careful, we can surprise him easily.“
“How?” Trixie asked.
“There’s a coil of rope hanging just inside the door,” Jim said. “As soon as we get inside, Trix, you hit the light switch. I’ll grab the rope and jump on the Marauder and tie him up.”
“I was hoping,” Honey remarked, sounding scared, “that you’d forgotten that bit.”
“It just might work,” Trixie said, frowning. “And me?” Honey asked in a small voice.
“What do you want me to do?”
“You can yell your head off if you like,” Trixie answered, only half joking. “It might startle the Midnight Marauder so much that he’ll give up without a fight.”
“On the other hand,” Jim said, “maybe the noise will arouse someone—perhaps even Brian and Mart. It seems to me we’ll need all the help we can get.”
“For now, though,” Trixie whispered, “let’s be quiet.”
She could feel her heart pounding with excitement as they crept silently closer and closer to the half-opened door.
Inside, she could hear the horses moving restlessly in their stalls. She could also hear the soft, stealthy sounds of the intruder as he moved toward them.
“Are you ready?” Jim whispered, getting ready to spring forward.
“Ready!” Trixie answered.
It was the wrong thing to say.
The word was no sooner out of her mouth when something launched itself through the open doorway and hurled itself against her.
It was Reddy, who thought she had called him!
Uttering loud yelps of welcome, he tried to fling himself into Trixie’s astonished arms.
Trixie, caught off balance, tried desperately to save herself from falling. She grabbed wildly for the front of Jim’s jacket.
Jim, feeling his legs shoot out from under him, reached for Honey.
Honey, with no one to reach for, had no choice in the matter. She fell, and her friends fell with her, while Reddy, ignoring the sea of mud and thrashing legs, bent his head and bestowed wet, slobbery kisses on three outraged faces.
Suddenly, from inside the stable, someone pressed a switch. A golden path of light streamed across the yard. A second later, a dark figure stood in the doorway. His long shadow was motionless as he stared down at the three struggling Bob-Whites on the ground.
Reddy, satisfied at last with a job well done, promptly sat back on his haunches and nonchalantly scratched his ear with his hind foot.
“For pete’s sake,” a familiar voice sai
d, “what’s going on? I know that some people say mud is good for the complexion, but this is ridiculous!”
Trixie looked up at the dark figure, which had moved now to grin down at her.
“M-Mart?” she gasped. “Is that you? What are you doing here? And where’s the Midnight Marauder? Did you catch him? Is he tied up?”
Mart reached out a hand and helped his friends to their feet. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Trix,” he said, leading the way back inside. “When the storm stopped, Brian and I were concerned for the horses. We came to check on them, that’s all. Brian’s gone around back to see that everything’s okay there. What’s all this about the Midnight Marauder?”
He listened while his sister explained all that had happened, while Jim ran for rags to help clean off the worst of the mud from the three of them.
When Trixie had finished her story, Mart shook his head. “The Marauder hasn’t been here,” he said. “Take my word for it. And the horses are fine, Jim.”
“Did Dad and Moms make it home, after all?” Trixie asked.
Mart shook his head again. “I don’t think anyone could’ve got through tonight, Trix. We couldn’t phone Sergeant Molinson, either. The phones are out.”
Honey sighed with relief. “Then we were worrying for nothing. I’d suggest our best plan is to turn in, and right now. I’m tired.”
“I’m sorry, Honey,” Brian’s voice said suddenly from the doorway, “but there’s something you’ve got to come and see first.”
Trixie turned sharply and she caught sight of the expression on his pale face. “What is it, Brian?” she cried. “What’s happened now?”
“The Midnight Marauder has struck again,” he said, gazing with wide eyes at his friends. “He’s broken into the Delanoys’ trailer!”
Five minutes later, the five Bob-Whites stood in the clearing and stared in horror at the Robin.
The intruder had wasted no time in trying to open the red trailer’s little front door. He had merely taken a rock and smashed a window.
Large jagged pieces of glass lay on the wet ground. Along the Robin’s once-neat side, black capital letters spelled out the words:
THE MIDNIGHT MARAUDER WAS HERE!
Even as Trixie watched, the letters were blurring and running into each other.
“It looks as though this message was painted only a short time ago,” she exclaimed. “Look!” She reached out a hand and explored the paint with one finger. It was still wet!
Reddy, who had followed them, was exploring on his own. Trixie saw him suddenly stiffen. Then he growled deep in his throat and stared across the clearing at a distant stand of trees.
Trixie clutched at Mart’s arm. “Listen!” she whispered urgently. “I think someone’s there!”
“Who—” Honey began, but a warning pressure from her brother’s fingers on her arm silenced her.
The Bob-Whites stood as if frozen, listening, and kept their eyes on Reddy, whose hair around his neck was bristling.
Reddy growled again. His gaze fixed on that same distant spot, he began to move softly, slowly, toward it.
There was a moment’s silence. Then someone burst out of hiding and began running desperately through the trees and past the stable.
“Quick!” Trixie shouted. “After him, everyone! Reddy! Fetch!”
Surprisingly, Reddy seemed to understand exactly what was expected of him this time. In another minute, he, too, was racing across the clearing with the Bob-Whites close behind him.
Trixie had never seen anyone run so fast as the slim figure that seemed to remain so infuriatingly far ahead of them.
Trixie’s legs were pumping at full speed, but still she could see that she wasn’t going nearly fast enough to catch their mysterious visitor.
He had, in fact, almost reached Glen Road and the bicycle that was parked there, when Reddy, mindful of his duty at last, circled around in front of him and stood, legs spread, growling.
The running figure skidded to a halt and stared in terror at the dog’s bared teeth.
“Call him off!” he yelled to the Bob-Whites as they raced to capture their prisoner. “Don’t let him bite me! I didn’t do anything, honest!”
Trixie stared at the frightened figure who faced them. “I should have known,” she said slowly. “So you were the Midnight Marauder all along. Look, everyone! It’s Lester Mundy!”
Reddy’s Prisoner ● 12
LESTER DIDN’T TAKE his eyes off Reddy for a second. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he shouted, taking a step toward Trixie.
He stopped abruptly when Reddy barked in warning. Hastily, Lester stepped back to his original position and stood as if frozen to the spot.
“You’d better tell us everything,” Mart snapped, thrusting his face close to that of their prisoner. “We know you’re the Midnight Marauder. You were the one who vandalized the school—and Wimpy’s—and the Robin.”
“First, call off your dog,” Lester said.
“Talk first,” Brian replied sternly, “and then we’ll see if we can call him off.”
Trixie hid a smile. Reddy looked as if he were about to tear Lester limb from limb.
The Bob-Whites knew well that the mischievous Irish setter wouldn’t hurt anyone—but Lester didn’t.
He seemed to be thinking hard. “It was like this,” he began. “I happened to be riding my bike along Glen Road—”
“At this time of night—I mean, morning?” Mart asked, sounding incredulous.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Lester replied, not looking at anyone. “The storm was making too much noise. Then, when the rain stopped, I decided I needed some exercise.”
“Go on,” Mart snapped.
“I rode my bike this far,” Lester continued hastily, “when I noticed someone hanging around the trailer. I left my bike here and went to investigate, but the Midnight Marauder was too fast for me. By the time I reached the clearing, he’d already gone. Then I heard you coming. I thought you might be part of the Marauder’s gang, so I hid. You know the rest.”
“I don’t believe a word of it,” Trixie said slowly. “For one thing, you couldn’t have seen the trailer from Glen Road. Try again, Lester, and this time, tell the truth.”
Lester sighed and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “You’re never going to believe me,” he said at last. “I’ve known that all along.”
“Try us,” kindhearted Honey said gently.
“It really all began last night,” Lester answered. “It was late. I was out jogging. Oh, I know what you’re going to ask me next. What was I doing jogging at that hour, right?” He glanced quickly at Trixie, who nodded. “I—I guess you already know I’m not the most popular kid at school. Somehow I always seem to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.”
Trixie remembered back to that morning when Lester had bluntly broken the news of Mart’s trouble with the police. “You aren’t always very tactful,” she said.
Lester hung his head. “I know. But someone at school told me that in order to have a friend you have to be a friend.”
Mart gasped. “You mean you believed that stuff?”
Lester stared. “What stuff?”
Mart recovered himself quickly. “Oh,” he said airily, “I seem to remember reading something like that in that dumb Lonelyheart’s column in the school paper.”
“I didn’t think it was so dumb,” Lester answered slowly. “I thought it was good advice. But
I don’t know how to be a friend, so yesterday—I mean, Friday—I joined the track team. Coach said I should get in shape, though, so—”
“So that’s why you were jogging,” Trixie finished. Lester nodded. “I thought if I went out late at night, no one would see me and know what I was doing.” As Trixie looked at him questioningly, he explained, “In case I’m no good, you know? I didn’t want people laughing at me.”
“That makes a change,” Brian remarked. “In the past, you’ve been only too happy playing t
he part of the class clown.”
“That’s right,” Jim added. “And what about that fool trick you played at Crimper’s yesterday?”
Lester bit his lip. “It was my last one, honest! I couldn’t resist it. I—I’d already told someone to be on the watch for something happening on Saturday—”
Mart moved suddenly. “Was that you?”
Lester frowned. “Was what me? What’s going on?”
Trixie knew that Mart was thinking of the mysterious letter Miss Lonelyheart had received, which had worried him so much. Now, it seemed Mart’s correspondent was none other than Lester Mundy!
“Go on with your story,” she said quickly.
“What happened when you were out jogging?” Lester began to tell them his story, and the Bob-Whites listened attentively.
Lester had been running along Glen Road, not far from the place where they stood at the moment. Suddenly he heard a small truck coming along behind him—fast.
“I guess the driver didn’t see me until he was almost on top of me,” Lester explained. “He swerved to avoid me, and as he did, something fell off the back of the truck.”
“Did the driver stop?” Trixie asked.
Lester shook his head. “I yelled to him, but he kept on going. And you know what he dropped? It was a big cardboard carton. I opened it to see if I could get a clue to its owner. Inside, I found a big plastic bag. It was filled with—”
“Hamburger patties!” Trixie exclaimed, suddenly guessing the answer.
“You’re right,” Lester said slowly. “I didn’t think it would hurt anyone if I took the meat home. After all, that driver didn’t seem to want it. So I left the carton by the side of the road—”
“That must have been the one I found just before we started out for school yesterday!” Jim exclaimed.
“—and I carried that plastic bag over my shoulder all the way home,” Lester finished. “I must’ve looked like old Santa Claus. Then I put all those hamburger patties in our freezer.”
Trixie stared at him thoughtfully. “What were you going to do with all that meat?”
The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder Page 8