The man started to sit down, then stood up again. “I want to say one more thing. If any of you councilmen vote for the rezoning, you can bet I’ll vote against you in the next election.” Again there was a mixture of applause and booing as the man sat down. Three people jumped to their feet, wanting to be recognized. The chairman pointed his gavel at one of them.
The speaker gave his name and address to the secretary and turned to face his fellow citizens.
“It seems to me that a person has to be a duck to get any sympathy around here,” he said sarcastically. “I think it’s high time somebody spoke up for us human beings. I grew up on a farm just outside of Sleepyside. My family and friends all live here. I farmed for my dad until I got married and had a family of my own. Then we discovered that one small farm didn’t make enough money to support two families. For the past two years, I’ve been working in Tarry town. I started out commuting. Then that got too expensive. Now I live in a rooming house there during the week and come home to my family only on weekends.
“I don’t want my kids to miss the small-town life I had growing up in Sleepyside. But I don’t want them to grow up without a father, either. If International Pine expands, I could get a job right here in town. I could raise my kids the way I want to.” The man paused and raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “Aren’t my kids and I as important as ducks?”
There was applause, but no booing, as the man sat down. Trixie could understand why even the most strongly opposed to the expansion would not want to boo him. Most of them had families, too.
The debate went on and on. Just as both sides had managed to use John Score’s actions at the debate in their favor, now both sides used the discovery of botulism on the preserve. Half of the speakers said the botulism proved that the preserve wasn’t safe for wildlife, so it might as well be used for industry. The other half said the poisoning of the ducks had happened because the swamp where they’d fed safely had been destroyed by the original International Pine factory. Further expansion meant risking more epidemics—epidemics that could be harmful to humans, too.
At the end of the hour, the chairman banged his gavel again and ordered the spectators to clear the room. The council needed a recess to review what the townspeople said before they voted.
Trixie, Honey, Mart, and Brian left the stuffy, crowded chamber and walked out onto the marble steps of the town hall. It was a crisp but sunny September afternoon, and the cool breeze felt wonderful against their damp foreheads.
“How do you think they’ll vote?” Trixie asked her brothers.
Brian shrugged. “It’s impossible to tell. The speeches in there seemed pretty evenly split, for and against.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to be in those councilmen’s place right now,” Honey said. “That man who spoke right after Daddy actually threatened them with the loss of his vote if they didn’t vote against the expansion. I’m sure he’s not the only one who will vote for someone else if this meeting doesn’t go his way.”
“Here you are,” Jim said, coming up alongside them. “I looked for you in the crowd as soon as the chairman called the recess, but I couldn’t see you. I thought you might have left rather than listen to all those speeches that said the same thing—or rather, the same two things.”
“We were the last ones into the meeting, so we were the first ones out for the recess,” Trixie said with a giggle.
“We were just trying to guess how the council is going to vote,” Brian told him. “What’s your opinion?”
Jim shrugged. “At this point, I don’t know how they’re going to vote, and I’m not even sure how I want them to vote. The botulism has put a new light on things, for me at least. It seems quite possible that it occurred because the ducks had to find new feeding grounds.”
“What does Daddy think about it?” Honey asked.
Jim shrugged. “We haven’t had much chance to talk about it. The lab analysis came in just before we had to leave for this meeting. I do know that Dad just wants what’s best for the community.”
“The crowd’s starting to move back inside,” Trixie said. “Somebody must have passed the word that the vote is about to be taken.”
“Let’s go,” Brian said, leading the way.
Trixie started to follow, then paused. After all the talk, the decision was about to be made. She wished there were some way of knowing what it was going to be.
Even if Trixie had tried, she wouldn’t have been able to guess what finally happened. When the votes were all in, it was a tie—two for, two against, and one abstention.
“Can he do that?” Trixie asked angrily when the fifth council member announced that he was abstaining.
“He can,” Brian said. His jaw muscle was clenched. “Especially if he’s more concerned about winning the next election than about what’s best for Sleepyside.”
As soon as the chairman announced that the rezoning would be brought up again at the regular meeting the following Tuesday, Brian said, “Let’s go,” and led the Bob-Whites back outside.
“Is this ever going to get settled?” Trixie wailed.
“It doesn’t seem like it,” Honey said in a mournful tone.
Trixie suddenly felt ashamed of her own impatience. Honey’s situation was much worse than her own, since her father was so directly involved in the issue.
“Somebody should tell Dan and Mr. Maypen-ny,” Trixie said. “Let’s hurry home, saddle the horses, and ride to his place to tell him.”
“The distaff contingent may have such liberty,” Mart said. “We have chores to do.”
So it was again Trixie and Honey who rode alone to Mr. Maypenny’s. They took the long route through the preserve, reveling in the fresh air after the long afternoon in the steamy council room.
Each of the girls was lost in her own thoughts. They rode in silence until they had passed a shallow ravine. Then Trixie suddenly reined in her horse.
“What is it, Trixie?” Honey asked. “Is something wrong with Susie?”
Trixie shook her head as if trying to clear cobwebs. “It didn’t register until we’d gone past,” she said. “I saw a flash of something shiny in that little ravine back there.”
“Maybe it was a crow’s nest,” suggested
Honey. “You know how they like to steal shiny things.”
Trixie giggled, remembering plump, cheerful Mary Smith and her missing locket. When Jim had run away, Miss Trask had taken Trixie and Honey to upstate New York to look for him. There they’d met Mrs. Smith, and they had found her locket in the nest of her pet crow. When the girls had returned the locket to its grateful owner, they’d enjoyed spiced grape juice and chocolate cake in the farmhouse kitchen while Jim was picking beans for the Smiths in a field just half an acre away!
Trixie’s face grew serious again. “This was something lower to the ground than a bird’s nest. It must have been something pretty good-sized, too, to shine through the dense underbrush.” She tugged on the reins and turned her horse. “I’m going back to see what it was.”
Honey turned her horse, too, and followed her sandy-haired friend.
At the ravine, Trixie dismounted and tied Susie’s reins to a bush. “You stay here, she said, patting the horse’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” Trixie and Honey both walked carefully through the underbrush toward the ravine.
“I see it now, too,” Honey said. “It isn’t something in a bird’s nest. I’m sure of that.”
Parting a final layer of brush, the girls gasped and looked at one another.
The shiny object Trixie had seen was a door handle and the door handle was attached to Jonn Score s battered green car!
The Car in the Woods • 10
HONEY’S HAZEL EYES were wide open in surprise. Trixie’s blue ones were narrowed in a squint as she tried to figure out how—and why—the young environmentalist’s car had been hidden in this out-of-the-way spot.
“Wh-What should we do, Trixie?” Honey asked. Trixie looked at Honey solemnly.
“The first thing we should do is look inside the car, to make sure John Score’s body isn’t in it.”
Honey’s face paled, and she swallowed hard. She was no longer the timid girl she had been when she’d first moved to Sleepyside. Still, she was not quite as adventuresome as her friend. The idea of finding a body did not appeal to her.
Trixie, understanding Honey’s fear, put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “If you want to wait here, that’s all right,” she said.
Honey shook her head. “I’ll come along,” she said.
In spite of her show of courage, Trixie was relieved to know she wouldn’t have to search the car alone!
Together the two girls climbed down the short bank. They walked up to the car and, being careful not to touch it and leave fingerprints, they peered inside.
Trixie breathed a sigh of relief that left a little circle of steam on the window. The car was empty except for a mess of candy wrappers, used tissues, and an unfolded road map.
Feeling braver, Trixie got down on her hands and knees and looked under the car. Finding nothing there either, she circled the car twice looking for clues.
“There’s such a thick layer of leaves down here that ordinary footprints wouldn’t show,” she told Honey. “Still, I’m sure that if someone had tried to wrestle John Score out of the car, they would have dug up some leaves. So it doesn’t look as though there’s been a scuffle.”
“What if he was—you know—beyond fighting when they took him out of the car?” Honey asked.
Trixie’s mouth fell open in surprise. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “If they’d hit him over the head, tossed him in the car, and driven out here—” She broke off in mid sentence. “Honey, this is silly. We’re coming up with all these fancy explanations for how ‘they’ got him here, and we don’t even know who ‘they’ are—if ‘they’ exist at all.”
Honey giggled wildly with relief. “You’re right. This whole scene—the deserted car in a ravine, looking inside it for a body—had me so scared I immediately started thinking the worst. I’m getting to be just like you—seeing a mystery where none exists.”
Trixie shook her head. “You can’t say that there’s no mystery here, Honey. John Score made himself very unpopular in Sleepyside. Then the judge ordered him out of town. Now we find his car hidden in this ravine. I’d say it’s very mysterious.”
Honey swallowed hard again. She’d almost managed to talk herself out of her nervousness. Now it was back again, full force. “What can we do?” she asked.
Trixie stood silent for a moment, her forehead wrinkled in thought. “I guess the best thing is to ride over to Mr. Maypenny’s,” she said finally.
“This ravine is on his land, and he probably rides past it every day. He might at least be able to remember the last time he saw this ravine without a car in it.”
Honey nodded in agreement and led the way back up the bank of the ravine, as if she were glad for an excuse to get away from the green car.
The girls had only gone a short way down the path when they saw Mr. Maypenny, on Brownie, riding slowly toward them.
Trixie stood up in the stirrups and waved her arm over her head. She sat back down in the saddle and started to urge Susie into a trot. Then she stopped herself. Mr. Maypenny had been through so much in the past few weeks. It would be better for him if she could force herself to be calm when she told him about the green car. She glanced at Honey and saw that Honey had arranged her face in a welcoming smile. Her always diplomatic friend had obviously had the same idea.
When the two girls pulled up alongside Mr. Maypenny, it was Honey who spoke first. “We just came from the council meeting,” she told the gamekeeper. “We rode out to tell you the news. It was a tie vote, so nothing has been settled yet. I’m sorry.”
Mr. Maypenny stared at Honey. “Tie vote?” he asked. “What— Oh, on the rezoning, you mean. Well, they can vote all they want to. Nothing is going to make me sell out to International Pine. It’s nice of you girls to tell me about it, though.” He gave a little nod of his head and clucked to Brownie. “Nice seeing you girls,” he said as he started off down the path again.
“Mr. Maypenny!” Trixie’s voice sounded sharp. She paused and cleared her throat as the gamekeeper stopped and turned around. She hadn’t meant to sound so panicky, but Mr. May-penny’s abrupt departure had startled her. He usually acted as though he had all the time in the world to talk.
Mr. Maypenny looked at Trixie expectantly as she tried to calm herself and think of a way to ask about the green car without upsetting the old man.
Once again, Honey’s natural tact came to her rescue. “We had a little question to ask you before you go on with your work,” she said. “We happened to see an old abandoned car in a ravine back there. We just wanted to make sure you knew it was there.”
Mr. Maypenny sat stock-still in the saddle, blinking rapidly as he looked at Honey. With his gaunt features and long, beaklike nose, he looked to Trixie like a startled bird. “A car, you say?” he asked, sounding confused again. “I don’t know anything about a car.”
“Then you haven’t seen it before?” Trixie demanded eagerly.
Mr. Maypenny turned to look at her. It seemed to Trixie that his ruddy face was redder than usual. “Of course I’ve seen it,” he said. “I patrol these woods every day. I’d see an abandoned car, wouldn’t I?”
Trixie slumped in the saddle. Now it was she who was confused.
“Well, we just wanted to make sure you knew about it,” Honey said soothingly. “You’ll probably want to have it towed away.”
“Towed? No— Why, I mean, yes, of course I will. I might not get to it for a while, though. But I will take care of it. Don’t you worry.” Mr. Maypenny gave another short nod of his head, kicked Brownie’s fat flanks, and went off down the path at as fast a pace as the old horse would allow.
The two girls stared after him.
“What was that all about?” Trixie asked finally, speaking as much to herself as to her friend.
“I think I know,” Honey said quietly. “I don’t think Mr. Maypenny had seen that car. I think we embarrassed him, spotting something on his land that he didn’t know about.”
Trixie shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s it,” she said. “In fact, I had a feeling it was just the opposite—that he did know about the car but didn’t want to admit it for some reason.”
“What reason—” Honey began. Then her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Trixie,” she breathed, “you don’t think that he could be ‘they’, do you?”
Trixie looked quizzically at her friend, then realized what Honey was asking. “No, Honey,” she said quickly. “I don’t think Mr. Maypenny did away with John Score. He and John were on the same side, trying to keep International Pine from expanding. No,” she repeated, “it isn’t that. It’s—” She stopped and shrugged. “I don’t know what it is.”
“Maybe Mr. Maypenny was just confused. He’s had an awful lot on his mind lately,” Honey said gently.
Trixie’s face drained of color and she turned to look at Honey. “That’s what it is, Honey. Do you know how often people have said that about Mr. Maypenny in the past few weeks? That’s what he himself said when he had to ask us to find that rotted tree. That’s what we said to his nephew when Mr. Maypenny let the fire go out the night of our cookout. Now you’re saying it.”
“What are you getting at, Trixie?” Honey asked.
Trixie exhaled slowly. “Mr. Maypenny always has had a lot of things on his mind—hunting and fishing and trapping and gardening and making sure he has enough food put away to last him through the winter. He’s always managed to keep track of all those things with no problems at all. Now, suddenly, he seems confused and forgetful all the time.” Trixie paused, chewing her lower lip, fearful of finishing her thought. “I—I just wonder, Honey, if David Maypenny was right. Maybe he was able to see his uncle more clearly than we do, because we’ve known him for so long. Maybe Mr. Maypenny is
getting too old to live in these woods alone.”
Honey’s eyes brimmed with tears of sympathy. “That can’t be it, Trixie,” she said softly. “It just can’t be.”
Trixie shook her head as if to throw the thought out of her mind. “I hope not,” she said.
Strawberry shifted restlessly under Honey. “We can’t just sit here all day,” Honey observed. “What should we do?”
Trixie thought for a moment. “How much money do you have?” she asked, reaching into her own pocket and pulling out a crumpled dollar bill.
Honey searched all her pockets and came up with two quarters and three pennies. She held them in her open palm for Trixie to see.
“It might be enough,” Trixie said. “If it isn’t, maybe he’ll accept charges.”
“Enough for what?” Honey demanded. “Who’ll accept what charges?”
“David Maypenny,” Trixie answered. Seeing her friend’s still confused expression, she started from the beginning. “Even if Mr. Maypenny isn’t—well, failing, he is in trouble. If the town council finally votes not to let International Pine expand in Sleepyside, there might be some hotheads who’ll think it’s Mr. Maypenny’s fault that they lost out on good jobs. If the council votes for the expansion, Mr. Maypenny will have another fight on his hands to keep from selling his land to them.
“David is still his only blood relative, even though they don’t see eye to eye. So I think David has a right to know what’s happening,” Trixie concluded.
“Then the money is for a call to New York,” Honey said. “Why don’t we just go to my house and call? I’m sure Miss Trask would be happy to give us permission.”
Trixie shook her head. “I don’t think we should tell anybody we’re calling.”
“Why not?” Honey demanded. “If you’re sure it’s the right thing to do, why should we keep it a secret?”
“I don’t know why, exactly,” Trixie admitted. “It’s partly because I don’t want to have to tell anyone except David Maypenny what we suspect. I don’t want to have to tell anyone about finding that car. I don’t— I don’t know,” she concluded helplessly. “I’d just rather keep it a secret for a couple of days.”
The Mystery at Maypenny's Page 9