The Happy Valley Mystery

turned back to the telephone. “What do their names prove?” he said. “Well, they mean just this: These kids have found some evidence that the men you are holding are the thieves we’ve been after. It’s plain as two and two makes four. Yes... sure, hold on to them. We’ll be in Valley Park in a jiffy. They’re the culprits, all right. Good-bye, Joe!”
     

Trixie Scores Again • 20
     
    TRIXIE, JIM, HONEY, Brian, Diana, and Mart climbed into the big yellow Happy Valley Farm station wagon and headed for the village of Valley Park. Mr. Gorman drove, and Ben went along.
    As they turned and drove to Ned’s house, they honked, and Ned came running. When he found out what had happened, he wanted to go with them. Later, down the road, they picked up the Hubbell twins at their house.
    As they passed Sand Hill, Trixie looked toward the place where the big red barn stood. The water was just beginning to lower. From the middle of the stagnant backwash, though, just a small part of the roof and the cupola still protruded.
    Trixie shivered and moved closer to Jim. He put his arm across the seat back of her. “Don’t even think about it, Trix,” he said. “We’re all safe now, and over there in Valley Park are the thieves you’ve been after.”
    “I know that, Jim, and I’m not thinking exactly about myself. I never should have taken chances with your life and Honey’s,” Trixie said. “I just hope my parents don’t forbid me ever to do any more detective work.”
    “I’m not sure I’d care a lot if they did,” Jim said. “Why, Jim!” Trixie said, shocked. “What if someone should tell you that you shouldn’t have your school for boys that you’ve planned ever since your uncle’s money was left to you? What if someone did that?”
    “It’s not the same at all,” Jim said. “Having a year-round school for boys is not dangerous. I hate to think of my sister and my—well, you, Trixie, getting into such tight places all the time.”
    When they got into town, they discovered that the flood had been the worst in the history of Polk County. A squad of men had been working all day burying dead animals. Townspeople had been out in boats since dawn, bringing in people who were stranded. Fortunately, there were no fatalities, but temporary homes had to be found for families in flooded areas.
    “It’s mostly people who live upriver,” the sheriff told them when they went into the courthouse. “There hasn’t been such high water for years, and I guess some of those people upriver thought it just never would happen again—poor souls.”
    “They’ve found out now,” Ben said. “That Raccoon River is a dangerous one. I know three kids who’ll say ‘amen’ to that.”
    “They never should have gone down to the woods at all,” the sheriff said.
    “Well, now, we’ve gone into all that back at the farm. Maybe they should have stayed out of the woods. But if they had, the men you’re holding never would have been caught.”
    “Eventually they would have been,” the sheriff said. “Maybe,” Mr. Gorman said. “By that time, Andrew Belden wouldn’t have had any sheep left. Bring the ornery hombres out, Joe.”
    Sheriff Joe Brown sent two of his deputies to bring the men into his office. When they came in, they were defiant. “It’s our word against a bunch of kids,” Raney Miller said.
    “Not quite, Raney,” Sheriff Brown said and showed him the battered hat and the knife. “Found them and all the rest of the evidence back there in the corner of the Belden field,” he said. “Here, Hank, sign this warrant for their arrest.” He spread the paper out on his desk, and Mr. Gorman signed it in the name of Andrew Belden.
    When the prisoners saw the hat and the knife, they seemed to give up. When asked how the sheep had been stolen without detection, they said they had watched till the dogs were taken into the house at dinner time. Then, between that time and the time the dogs were let out at bedtime, they got in their work.
    “How did you ever get back there in the woods?” the sheriff asked. “After the road ends, it’s nothing but a jungle.”
    “Did you ever think of following the river edge around the point going in from that side?” Raney Miller snarled. “We cut our way in through the underbrush. There’s a little old log house back there... an old still, too. If you’d let us alone, we’d have had it going, too.”
    “There’s more goes on back there in the woods than