The Gatehouse Mystery

and hurried along the lawn, tensely listening. Would Patch bark, or would he fawn on the person who was now entering the house?

A Dim Light • 18

    PATCH DID NOT bark; and by the time Trixie groped her way up the front steps of the veranda, there was no sign of the man with the dim flashlight. It was pitch-black on the porch; and Trixie jumped when Patch's cold, moist nose touched her hand.
    She hesitated. Suppose the person with the flashlight was Jim, getting ready to catch someone in their trap? If she made any noise, she would frighten away the prowler.
    Honey's explanation of why Jim hadn't gone to the movies might be the right one. Jim might have walked back, after Dick left him in the village. He might have been hiding in the shrubbery, watching the garage ever since then. He might even now be trailing Dick to Honey's old room, so he could catch him red-handed.
    "I've got to see," Trixie said to herself as she tiptoed across the porch and into the hall. A dim light was burning at the far end of it, and as soon as her eyes grew accustomed to the semidarkness, she groped her way up the carpeted stairs.
    The second-floor hall was dimly lighted by forty-watt bulbs in the ceiling at both ends of it, and Trixie saw at once that the door to Honey's former room was closed.
    She moved swiftly down toward it, and as silently as possible, turned the knob. It made the same faint grating sound which had awakened her on Thursday night; and when she had opened it a crack, Trixie stopped, holding her breath.
    Then she peered inside. Someone, who had taped his flashlight so that it gave off only a tiny pencil of light, was examining Honey's jewelry box. Someone with blond, not red, hair; someone who, from the back, looked like Dick.
    Trixie stared, not quite knowing what to do. The trap was sprung. They had caught the prowler, and probably the man who had stolen the diamond—but how could she hope to keep him a prisoner?
    If she screamed at the top of her lungs, Regan could not possibly hear her above the noisy roar of the wrestling matches, and even if Celia, on the floor above, did hear her, what could the maid and the cook do?
    With the telephone out of order, she couldn't call for help from the police. She couldn't do a thing but stand there, worrying about what might have happened to Jim and wondering if there wasn't some way— Then, although she was not touching it, the door opened wider and something brushed against Trixie's bare leg. She stifled a scream as Patch bounded across the room to leap up with joyous little whines on the man by the dressing table. He tinned, pointing the pencil of light toward the entrance, and recognized her at the same moment that she recognized him.
    "So," he snarled, "the nosy little girl next door. What brought you home from the movies so soon?"
    "You," Trixie said, hoping her voice didn't sound as scared as she felt. "You, Dick. I thought you might pick this time to sneak into the house and try to get the diamond back. Stole it, didn't you?"
    He crossed the room in swift strides and grabbed her wrist, dragging her across the threshold and closing the door.
    "Bite him, Patch," Trixie said without much hope. "Bite his hand right off."
    The black and white puppy looked up at them both adoringly, thumping his tail on the floor.
    Dick laughed. "He won't bite me. I had sense enough to make friends with him and your stupid setter from the very beginning."
    "Reddy is not stupid," Trixie said staunchly. "Where is Jim?"
    He laughed again. "During our little ride this afternoon, I was forced to knock him out and tie him up and gag him. If you must know, he's lying in the woods far enough from that deserted lane so that no one will see him."
    Trixie gasped. "You—you horrible little weasel," she said hotly. "How did you ever dare to do such a thing? Just wait and see what will happen to you."
    "Nothing's going to happen to me," he said with an evil chuckle. "After you've given me the diamond, I'm going to tie you up, too. By the time your friends and that bossy governess get back, I'll be miles away." He pointed the pencil of light toward the jewelry box. "Get going, little girl. I haven't much time. Get the rock out of the secret compartment."
    It was Trixie's turn to laugh. "It isn't there. It's someplace where you'll never find it."
    He gripped her wrist so tightly that Trixie had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out. Lightning forked the sky then, and she could see his face clearly