While Miss Lawler described one of the coins and told about the people who had used it, Miss Craven busied herself taking attendance and looking over her own notes.
“Thank you, Miss Lawler. Now, class....” Miss Craven folded her hands and leaned forward. “Today we’ll discuss an ancient Roman city.”
The remainder of the period was spent learning the fascinating story of the excavation of the famous city of Pompeii.
Trixie didn’t even hear the bell sounding to end the period. She was strolling through the gardens of Pompeii, admiring the houses, the public baths, and the great halls and theaters.
Honey giggled and nudged Trixie. “Class is over,” she informed her.
“Oh!” Blinking her eyes, Trixie looked around at the other students leaving the room. “Jeepers, that was really interesting,” she said.
“Let’s ask Miss Lawler about sketching the coins,” Honey urged. “She’s still at her desk, reading a letter, but she’ll probably be leaving as soon as she’s finished.”
Picking up her books, Trixie hurried up the aisle to the front of the room. “Miss Lawler,” she said, “we were wondering if...
The teacher’s aide looked up quickly, and her eyes were shining with a smile. “Oh, Trixie and Honey. I thought everyone had gone.” She slipped the note she had been reading back inside the envelope. “Did you want something?”
Trixie explained what they had in mind. “We wondered if we could stay after class someday when you’ll be here,” she finished.
“That’s a very good idea,” Miss Lawler said. “How about tomorrow afternoon? We won’t be able to open the case, but you can get a good dose look at the coins and the little cards that tell about them.”
“That would be terrific,” Trixie said gratefully.
“I’ll have Jim drive in and pick us up at Wimpy’s tomorrow after were through,” Honey suggested to Trixie.
Outside, the bus driver gave two beeps of the horn, signaling that he was ready to leave.
“We have to run,” Trixie said. “See you tomorrow, and thanks a lot.”
The following afternoon, Trixie and Honey remained in their seats as the other students filed out of the social studies classroom. Miss Craven gathered up her papers, nodded to the girls, and left.
Miss Lawler, seated at her desk, looked up from the papers she was grading. “Take as long as you like,” she said. “The cards beside the coins tell quite a bit about them, but if you need some help, just ask.”
Trixie and Honey pulled chairs up close to the display case and opened their social studies notebooks in their laps.
Trixie studied the coins spread out on the velvet-covered shelves for a few minutes, chewing on her pencil while she read the information on the cards beside them.
Honey was drawing one of the coins. Beside the drawing, she wrote, This Roman coin was found in India, showing that there was trade going on between the Roman Empire and India.
Trixie’s pencil flew over the page as she drew a fish, a knife, and a small jacket. The first Chinese coins were made in shapes of things used for barter, she wrote beside the drawings.
Looking in the case again, Trixie saw a small triangular coin with a little bell-like thing dangling in the middle.
“Isn’t that coin pretty?” Trixie asked, pointing it out to Honey. “It’s called—” she leaned closer to read the card— “tingle-tangle, or sometimes, tingle-dangle.”
Miss Lawler looked up from her papers. “That’s one of my favorites,” she said. “In addition to using them for money, the Chinese people also used them as musical instruments. They may also have hung them up as musical mobiles, tingle-tangling in the wind.”
’Tingle-tangle,” Trixie said softly. “It does sound like music, doesn’t it? My little brother Bobby would sure like to see—”
Suddenly Miss Lawler seemed to tremble slightly. Her face turned as white as chalk as she picked up her pencil.
“Are—are you all right, Miss Lawler?” Honey asked quickly.
The teacher’s aide pressed her fingers against her forehead. “It’s nothing,” she said. “I’m... rather tired. It’s been a long day.”
Trixie looked at her watch. “Gosh,” she exclaimed, “we’ve kept you for almost an hour. I’m finished. How about you, Honey?”
Honey nodded. “Just done.”
The color was returning to Miss Lawler’s face, and she smiled weakly. “I was... uh, ill a while ago,” she said, “and I—I tire easily. But please, don’t tell anyone what I’ve told you.”
Trixie saw a strange look in Miss Lawler’s eyes. Was it fear? Loneliness? Trixie wondered.
Honey picked up her notebook. “We won’t mention it to anyone—anyone at all,” she assured the teacher’s aide.
“That’s a promise,” Trixie said.
“Thank you,” Miss Lawler murmured. “Good night, now.”
Still puzzling over the scene in the classroom, Trixie and Honey walked across the lawn to the sidewalk and headed toward downtown to meet Jim at Wimpy’s.
“I guess Miss Lawler is afraid,” Trixie said after a moment. “She’s afraid of being sick again.”
“I know how she feels,” Honey said softly. “I used to feel that way, too, until we moved to Sleepyside and I met you and all the other Bob-Whites.”
“I wish we could help her,” Trixie sighed.
“How about helping me?” someone asked.
Startled, both girls looked up to see a young man, leaning against a battered old yellow pickup truck, grinning at them. He seemed to be about Brian’s age, tall and slender, with curly black hair and a friendly, likable smile.
“Im looking for Miss Lawler,” he said. “She’s supposed to be at the Sleepyside High School. Am I in the right place?”
“You sure are!” Trixie and Honey answered in one voice.
“We were just with her,” Honey said.
“She’s still in her classroom,” Trixie added. “We’ll show you the way.”
“Thanks!” The young man followed them into the school building, walking with a loose, easy stride.
Moments later, they were standing at the classroom door. “Someone to see you, Miss Lawler,” Trixie called.
Miss Lawler was covering the display case. “Just a moment,” she said. Turning, she saw the young man. “Why, Sammy!” she cried. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
Grinning, the young man crossed the room. “Hi, Cis,” he said.
Miss Lawler was obviously delighted. “I got your letter,” she said in a rush, “but—”
Honey nudged Trixie and whispered, “Come on.” Quietly, she and Trixie stepped down the hallway toward the exit.
Outside, Trixie laughed and said, “How about that? Miss Lawler really looked happy!”
“His name is Sammy,” Honey mused. She was as excited as Trixie.
“Sam, Sam, the Medicine Man,” Trixie chanted. “Gleeps! He’s just what the doctor ordered!”
The Mysterious Car • 4
JIM AND THE OTHER BOB-WHITES had driven into town to pick up Trixie and Honey. Now they were all seated in their favorite booth at Wimpy’s, sipping colas and listening to Trixie describe the happy scene she and Honey had just witnessed. Her excitement was contagious.
“It sounds wonderful,” Di said with a sigh.
“Sure, it’s great,” Mart agreed. “And for once, Trixie has met somebody new and not said—”
“There’s something strange about him!” the others chimed in, laughing.
“Who is this Sammy, anyway?” Brian asked. “Well,” Trixie said matter-of-factly, “he called Miss Lawler Sis, so he must be her brother.”
Di, who sat facing the door, leaned forward and whispered, “Shhh! They just came in here. They’re coming over this way.”
Honey turned her head and smiled. “Hi, Miss Lawler,” she called.
Trixie moved over on the bench, making space beside her. “Come sit with us,” she invited. “There’s room for two more
.” >
The teacher’s aide was pleased. “Why, thank you,” she said, stopping by the crowded booth, “but—”
“Sure,” Sammy said. “Sit down, Cis.” Sammy slid into the booth beside Trixie. “Hi,” he said, nodding to the other Bob-Whites. “My name’s Sammy.”
“I’m Trixie Belden, and this is Honey Wheeler. We sort of met you in front of school,” Trixie said. She introduced each of the others at the table. “We’re the Bob-Whites,” she told him.
“That’s the name of their club, Sammy,” Miss Lawler explained. “They’re all good friends of mine.” Sammy shrugged. “Then they’re all good friends of mine, too,” he said.
Sammy seemed to be an easy person to know. He had a great sense of humor and a droll way of telling stories—most of them about his own misadventures. In a few minutes, he had everyone at the table howling with laughter.
“Sammy, if you’re going to be staying in Sleepyside, you’ll have to join the Drama Club at school,” Trixie said, weak from laughing.
“School?” Sammy asked in a sarcastic tone. “Forget it. That’s almost as bad as being locked up. I’m nineteen, and I’m finished with school, that’s for sure.”
“Sammy’s just taking some time off to travel a bit,” Miss Lawler said quickly. “Next year, he’ll be entering college.”
“Maybe,” Sammy said. Then he smiled. “I’m glad Cis wrote and told me about Sleepyside,” he went on, changing the subject. “Finding little old towns like this is sort of a hobby with me. I like to keep on the move. I just got here today, but I already think Sleepyside is one of the neatest places I’ve hit yet.”
The Bob-Whites nodded proudly. “We think Sleepyside is great,” Trixie said.
“Are you going to be staying here awhile?” Mart queried.
“I hope so,” Miss Lawler answered for Sammy.
“Look,” Sammy said impatiently, “I told you I didn’t come here to sponge off you, Cis.”
Miss Lawler bent her head and took a quick sip of her cola. The others remained uncomfortably silent for a moment.
Sammy smiled again. “We’ll see,” he said. “I’ll stick around for a while, anyway.”
“We’d better not stick around here any longer,” Trixie said. “I promised Moms we’d be on time for dinner for a change.”
Jim buttoned up his red jacket. “Our station wagon is over in the parking lot,” he said. “Can we give you and Sammy a lift, Miss Lawler?”
“No, thank you, Jim,” Miss Lawler answered. “We left Sammy’s truck at the school. We’ll walk back there. But—” she smiled suddenly, remembering something— “we will walk down to the common with you. I want Sammy to meet Hoppy.”
“Sure,” Sammy said agreeably. “I hope Hoppy is as pretty as Di.”
Di blushed, and everyone else laughed.
“Hoppy’s undeniable pulchritude, however, would undoubtedly appeal more to an orthopteran,” Mart said. “He’s a grasshopper weather vane atop the cupola of our Town Hall.”
“Don’t mind Mart,” Trixie said. “He likes to sound like a dictionary. Hoppy is over two hundred years old. He’s a real antique.”
Miss Lawler nodded. “Tell Sammy the part about the good luck, Trixie,” she said.
“Oh,” Trixie said self-consciously. “We—I mean, some of us—think it brings good luck to say hello to Hoppy whenever you pass him.”
Sammy’s grin widened. “Is that right?” he asked. “This I’ve got to see. Lead the way.”
The crisp October air felt almost frosty after the cozy warmth of the diner. Trixie shivered and turned up her jacket collar as they headed toward the town common.
They passed a car at the curb, sitting with the motor running. A thin trail of smoke puffed from the exhaust. The man behind the steering wheel was reading a newspaper.
“I don’t blame him for leaving his heater on,” Trixie muttered. “Jeepers, I’m freezing!” She pushed her hands deep into her pockets, then let out a sudden gasp. “Yipes! I forgot my notebook. I’ll run back to the diner and get it. You guys go on; I’ll catch up.” The notebook was right where Trixie had left it on the bench.
“Forget something, Trixie?” Mike, the counterman, called to her.
“Practically a whole social studies report!” Trixie told him as she went back out the door. “See you later, Mike.”
Trixie could see the others almost at the common. She started to run to catch up, but then slowed down. The car they had passed before was inching along, close to the curb, keeping just behind the group on the sidewalk. I wonder who that is, Trixie thought. She yelled, “Hey, you guys! Wait for me!”
As the others turned around, the car pulled away from the curb and drove off.
Honey waited until Trixie caught up with her. The others were already walking across the grass of the common.
“Did you notice that car that just passed?” Trixie asked Honey.
“What car?” Honey asked. “We were too busy talking to be looking at cars. Why? Who was it?”
Trixie frowned. “I don’t know. But it seemed to be following you.”
“Oh, Trixie!” Honey chided. “It was probably just someone who doesn’t know his way around Sleepyside very well. Come on, the others are waiting for us.”
They joined the group in front of Town Hall and watched as Sammy craned his neck to stare up at the old weather vane. In the late afternoon light, the old grasshopper looked almost alive and ready to hop from his perch.
Sammy shook his head. “Now, that’s one mighty big grasshopper,” he said.
Miss Lawler touched Sammy’s arm. “Don’t forget that it’s good luck to say hello to Hoppy,” she reminded him.
“Right,” Sammy said. With a mock salute, he called, “Hello, Hoppy! You’re the biggest bug I’ve ever seen! And I think you’re going to bring me a lot of good luck!”
Miss Lawler laughed. “He’ll bring you a parking ticket if we don’t get back to your truck,” she said.
Trixie looked at her watch and made a face. “We’ve got to get home!” she said. “It was nice meeting you, Sammy. Good night, Miss Lawler.”
The Bob-Whites headed for their station wagon, and Miss Lawler and Sammy started off up the sidewalk toward the school building.
“Miss Lawler seems like a different person already,” Trixie declared as Jim drove home. “Remember how nervous and shy she used to be?”
“Sammy really changed that,” Honey said. “I wish we could convince him to stay iii Sleepyside. Maybe if we knew of a job for him... but there aren’t any job openings at Manor House now. What about your family, Di?”
Di shook her head. “We need a maid,” she said, “but somehow I don’t think Sammy would be interested in that.”
“Think, everybody,” Trixie ordered. “Let’s make it a club project to find a job for Sammy somewhere in Sleepyside.”
“Okay,” Jim agreed. “We’ll become regular readers of the want ads.”
Mrs. Belden was setting the table when Trixie, Brian, and Mart came into the kitchen.
“Sorry we’re late, Moms,” Trixie said, taking the silverware from her. “Here, I’ll finish that.”
Mart lifted the lid from a pot on the stove and sniffed. “Ahh,” he said, “satisfaction for my olfaction. What is it, Moms?”
“It’s braised beef,” his mother told him, “and you put that lid right back on the pot, Mart Belden.” Trixie looked up and wrinkled her nose. “I smell green apple pie, too,” she said with a grin.
Her mother laughed. “My daughter, the detective,” she said. “And I thought I had that pie well hidden.” Bobby came in from the living room. “Hi, everybody!” he shouted. “What kept you so long, Trixie?”
Trixie went on folding the napkins and putting them in place. “It’s a long story, Bobby,” she said. “We’ll tell you about it while we eat.”
During dinner, Trixie and the boys told their parents what had happened that afternoon. “Oh, Moms,” Trixie said with eyes sparkling, “I
wish you could have seen Miss Lawler. She’s so happy now that her brother is here.”
“Sammy really does seem like a nice guy,” Brian said.
“And he can sure tell a story,” Mart added.
Trixie grew wistful. “I just hope he can find a job in town,” she said. “It would be so good for Miss Lawler to have him stay. We were hoping that the Wheelers or the Lynches might have something for him, but they don’t.”
Peter Belden rubbed his chin. “I know where Sammy might find a job,” he said slowly. “I was talking to Mr. Johnson, the Town Hall custodian, in the bank today. He said the town council has authorized him to hire someone to help him. The outside work is getting to be too much for him. He just finished painting the building, but the roof needs work, too, and the weather vane is loose. Maybe Sammy—”
“Gleeps!” Trixie exclaimed. “Hoppy’s brought Sammy good luck already! I’m sure he’d be just right for the job. We don’t know where Sammy is staying, but I’ll tell Miss Lawler about the job first thing in the morning.”
Brian looked at Mart. “Maybe we should start saying hello to Hoppy,” he said.
“I’d rather say hello to another helping of potatoes, please,” Mart replied.
The Walk-a-thon Plan • 5
TRIXIE BUSHED into the social studies classroom first thing the following morning, tingling with excitement. “Hoppy s brought good luck,” she told Miss Lawler. She explained about Mr. Johnson needing a helper at Town Hall. “I told Dad I was sine that Sammy could do it. Would he like that kind of work?” The teacher’s aide smiled and nodded. “Indeed he would,” she answered. “Sammy is very good at maintenance work—painting, repairing, building. He was always doing something like that at the house. He’s quite skilful.”
The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper Page 3