The Gatehouse Mystery

it before the experts take over."
    "How about you, Brian?" Trixie asked her older brother.
    "We-ell," he said thoughtfully. "When I know more about it, I might feel the way Mart does. We were going to have a swim before breakfast, but I guess that can wait." He stretched out in the long grass by the chicken coop. "Let's hear it, Trixie. And don't exaggerate any more than you have to."

A Black Eye • 7

    TRIXIE PERCHED on a big rock, and the others sprawled in the grass around it. She told the story from beginning to end.
    "Oh, Trixie," Honey gasped. "Then Nailor did try to sneak into my room last night?"
    "Nailor or Dick," Trixie said. "I frankly suspect Dick. Bobby told him which windows were yours."
    "Are you sure you heard someone last night?" Jim asked. "Sure you weren't dreaming?"
    "I'm positive," Trixie said. "When a door handle is turned, it makes a special sort of grating sound. And when I dashed out into the hall, I saw enough to be sure that someone had just disappeared around the corner where the back stairs are."
    "What did you see?" Mart asked.
    "I don't know how to explain it," Trixie admitted. "But there was something there, and half a second later, it wasn't. It might have been part of a man's jacket or bathrobe. But it was something, all right."
    "Too bad you and Jim didn't check to see if the back door was unlatched when you were in the kitchen last night," Brian said. "Now it's too late, I guess. Too many people have already gone in and out of the house by now."
    "That's right," Jim said. "It would be hard to find out who first opened the back door this morning, and even if we did, he probably wouldn't remember whether the latch was hooked or not." He tinned to Trixie. "I'll go along with you, although I don't suspect either Dick or Nailor. Let's try to catch the prowler ourselves."
    "Oh, wonderful," Trixie cried. "He should walk into our trap tonight. If only I'd stayed awake last night, we'd know now who he is."
    "The first step," Jim said, "is for Honey to switch rooms with me. You can be sure I won't yell if anyone sneaks in. I'll keep a flashlight handy and catch him red-handed."
    "But suppose he has a gun." Honey protested. "Oh, 'I'm not worried about that," Jim said. "If he had a gun, he would have used it last night. What excuse can we give Miss Trask for wanting to swap rooms?"
    I know," Trixie cried. "One of Honey's windows faces east, and the sun wakes her up at the crack of dawn. That's why she wants to swap."
    "Pretty flimsy; pretty flimsy," Brian said, "but if Miss Trask is the good sport you all say she is, you'll probably get by with it."
    Honey nodded. "She's like Regan. Neither of them asks a lot of bothersome questions."
    "They're both too busy minding their own business," Jim added.
    "Dick," Trixie put in thoughtfully, "is supposed to be busy, too, but he spends a lot of time making friends with Bobby and the dogs. That's suspicious, if you ask me."
    Jim frowned. "I'd agree with you if I hadn't seen the letter of recommendation from Mr. Whitney, who is one of Dad's best friends."
    "And he's so very good-looking," Honey said. "Dick, I mean. People who steal diamonds and lurk around in thickets, eavesdropping, don't look like that."
    Trixie sniffed. "How do you know they don't? Besides, Dick isn't nice-looking. He's mean. His lips are too thin, and his eyes are too close together."
    Mart laughed. "You girls are wacky. Didn't you ever hear the old saying about not judging a book by its cover? Whether he's handsome or looks like Dracula has nothing to do with the case."
    "Trixie's right about one thing," Jim said. "I guess I should say Bobby is right. Dick is afraid of horses. When I came back from a ride on Jupe yesterday afternoon, Miss Trask called me in to the phone. I asked Dick to hold Jupe while I answered it, and he flatly refused. He said, 'You couldn't pay me to go near that rearing, prancing brute.' "
    "He might have said that just because he doesn't do favors for anyone except Bobby," Trixie said. "Honestly, I was furious when he stood there grinning yesterday while I picked up the broken glass."
    "That was horrid of him," Honey cried impulsively. "When Daddy hears about it, Dick will be fired."
    "Don't be a tattletale on account of me," Trixie said. "Anyway, I don't think he'll be here when your father comes back."
    "Why not?" Brian demanded.
    "Because," Trixie said with a superior smile, "I'm sure he's our prowler. Jim will catch him tonight." Brian shook his head.