The Gatehouse Mystery

table. "He axed Miss Trask, and she said he could. But he's gotta come back tonight."
    "How do you like that?" Mart asked Brian. "If Dick gets half a day off every other day, he'll soon be owing Mr. Wheeler money. Chauffeurs, I gather from Jim, get paid in advance, unlike junior counselors."
    Mrs. Belden laughed and handed him a plate heaped high with macaroni and cheese. "From the way you talk, Mart, one would think you'd been worked to death this summer," she said. "I happen to know better."
    Mart chuckled. "Can't a man get any sympathy from his own mother?"
    "Not in this case," Mrs. Belden said firmly.
    "If anyone deserves sympathy," Trixie put in, "it's me; I mean, I. Work, work, work, that's all I've done the whole livelong summer."
    Brian howled with laughter. "How about that trailer trip, honey chile? And when did you find time to learn to ride and improve your crawl stroke?"
    They all laughed then, and after lunch the boys insisted upon washing and drying the dishes. "We're more efficient than you," Mart told Trixie, "so we'll get through sooner." He added in a whisper, "Scram.
    Honey is dying to tell you the latest dope."
    Trixie needed no further urging. She dashed out of the kitchen, hopped over the terrace wall, and tore across the fields to the path. At the top of the hill, she met Honey on her way down.
    "Did you get a chance to talk with Brian and Mart?" Honey asked immediately.
    Trixie shook her head. "Moms was around all the time. What's the news? Did you show them our clues?"
    "I tried to," Honey said, "but there weren't any left. Someone had walked all over the heel marks in the cottage, and another car had driven over the clues down by the road."
    "How about the footprints in the thicket?" Trixie asked wonderingly.
    "They were crisscrossed with other footprints," Honey said forlornly. "And all of them were so messy you couldn't really tell a tiling, even though we examined them carefully with flashlights." She sighed. "I suppose Nailor messed up the clues on the cottage floor. He was mowing down near the cottage this morning, and, after all, we left the door wide open; so I imagine he got curious and went inside."
    "I guess so," Trixie said in a depressed tone of voice. "And somebody driving north along the road must have pulled off to the side to change a tire or something. Just our luck that he had to park on top of our clues."
    "Well, anyway." Honey said, trying to be cheerful, "Miss Trask wasn't at all suspicious when ]im and I asked her if we could change rooms. She said changes of one's environment were always very good for one."
    "I've heard that word mentioned," Trixie said, "but I really don't know what it means, exactly. Is it your surroundings?"
    "That's right," Honey said. "What did you think of Dick's black eye?"
    "On him," Trixie said with a sniff, "it looked swell. And I liked his battered mouth, too. Did he try to tell you that Jupe kicked him?"
    "He didn't say anything to me about it at all," Honey said. "And I don't know what excuse he gave Miss Trask. Anyway, she gave him the afternoon off, so he could go see his doctor in New York. He just drove off in his own car."
    "What time is he coming back?" Trixie asked. "In time to walk into our trap, I hope."
    "He said he'd be back late this afternoon or early this evening," Honey said. "But, of course, that depends on what his doctor says. If his eye closes completely, he really shouldn't drive a car. I hope he isn't laid up for long. He's going to give Jim driving lessons right away, you know."
    "I didn't know," Trixie said. "Did he suggest the idea himself, or did Miss Trask order him to do it?"
    "Oh, it was Dick's idea," Honey said. "He's really very nice and polite to me and Jim. Just before he left, he asked Jim if he knew how to drive; and when Jim said he didn't, he offered to teach him."
    "Well, well, well," Trixie said. "I guess I'm the only one on his hate list. And I couldn't care less." She disconsolately kicked a pebble on the driveway. "I wish we dared go search his room for clues."
    "Oh, we couldn't possibly do that," Honey cried.
    "I know; I know," Trixie moaned; "but I can dream, can't I?" Suddenly, she grabbed Honey's arm. "We can search the grounds for clues, can't we? I mean, suppose we found footprints with rubber heels to match the other ones?"
    "What a wonderful idea," Honey said. "Where'll we start?"
    "Wherever Dick may have been walking," Trixie replied promptly.
    Honey sighed. "As far as I know, he's only