The Happy Valley Mystery

yellow station wagon with HAPPY VAULEY FARM lettered on its side.
    Talking all the while, Mr. Gorman guided the car around the circle, out of the airport grounds, onto the highway, and then along Army Post Road, which led to the farm.
    Neat clapboard and brick farmhouses, fenced with newly painted white pickets, lined the road. Huge barns flanked the small homes. Long, low chicken houses extended far to the rear. Trees enclosed the shrubbery-circled lawns, and white chickens swarmed everywhere around the trim farmyards.
    “It’s almost like being at home,” Brian said.
    “Except for mountains,” Trixie agreed. “Whoops I That hill was just like a roller coaster, up and down in a hurry! The trees are beautiful, and here’s a river! Jim, isn’t it almost like home?”
    “It’s super!” Jim answered.
    For a while they had skirted a heavily wooded area as dense as the game preserve around the Manor House. “Walnut Woods,” Mr. Gorman explained. “A good place for you to stay out of. Many a person has been lost there. The other boundary of the woods is the Raccoon River,” he went on, “a little high right now and liable to go a lot higher. Then we’ll have to watch the sheep... not that we don’t have to watch them pretty close right now.” His face was strained.
    “Uncle Andrew told us about the disappearing sheep,” Trixie said. “Don’t you have any idea at all about what could be happening to them?”
    “Not a one. It sure gets me down,” Mr. Gorman said. “But don’t let it bother you young ones. What’s that on the back of your jackets?” He looked at the B.W.G. embroidered on each. “I’ve heard of New York gangs.” He nudged Mart. “You don’t belong to any of those, do you?”
    The Bob-Whites howled with laughter. Then, sobering, Trixie explained that their red jackets identified them as members of their club. She told him of how they tried to do worthwhile things for other people. “I hope we can help with your work now that the hired man is away,” she said.
    “I reckon my wife will find plenty for you girls to do in any spare time you have,” Mr. Gorman said. “Right down there is Happy Valley Farm. We turn in at the next road.”
    With a sweep of his hand, Mr. Gorman framed a panorama of beauty. An old orchard ambled down a slope behind the white rail fence that lined the road. In the valley, Happy Valley, Uncle Andrew’s pleasant ranch home nestled, a long, low, white-shingled house with green shutters. It extended comfortably across a large yard sprinkled with white chickens and busy geese.
    Two brown and white collies ran out, barking a welcome, followed by a huge black cat with fur nervously ruffled.
    When the station wagon stopped, Mrs. Gorman came through the back door, quickly drying her hands on a large checked apron, a cordial smile on her tanned, motherly face.
    “There you are, all of you,” she said, “safe and sound and back on solid ground.” She took the girls into her welcoming arms and patted the boys on their backs. “I’ve been in a tizzy,” she said, her eyes twinkling, “till you really got here. I can’t get used to airplanes. I want to feel the earth under me, instead of a mile of air. Welcome, all of you, every one, to Happy Valley Farm. I’ve a bite of lunch waiting.”
    “It’ll be more than a bite, I’ll wager, Mary,” Mr. Gorman said, “judging from the dust of flour on your face. You’ve been baking.”
    “And glad I am to have young ones to bake for once again,” Mrs. Gorman said, brushing the flour from her cheek. “Come right in and make the farm your very own home!”
     

Black Beard • 2
     
    IT’S A WONDER we could even move after a lunch like that,” Trixie said as she came down the stairs. “Banana cream pie. Imagine! Mrs. Gorman, our rooms are dreamy! I have exactly the same flowered pattern in the curtains in my bedroom at home. I love Happy Valley Farm. See, were all in jeans and ready to work.”
    “Indeed, you’ll not work the minute you’ve arrived. There’s a lot more to a farm than work. Wouldn’t you all like to go out and get acquainted with the horses? Your Uncle Andrew is always talking about the way his niece and nephews ride.”
    “We’d love it!” Brian, Diana, and Mart chorused. “Honey? Trixie? Jim? Coming along?” Mart called back.
    “I want to stay in the house and work with Mrs. Gorman if she’ll let me,” Honey said.
    “Not a thing to do, soon as I get through with these