The Happy Valley Mystery

to upset Trixie,” Honey insisted. “He thinks she’s perfect.”
    “Except when she’s a ‘Schoolgirl Shamus,’ as he calls her,” Diana said. “What is it, Trixie?”
    Trixie still insisted there was nothing wrong. But when Diana went to her room for something, Honey whispered, “You can tell me, Trixie. Is it something about the lost sheep?”
    “I’m not sure,” Trixie said. “I never want to say anything about sleuthing to anyone but you. You’re my partner, and we’re going to be detectives together. The others just make fun of me.”
    “What is it, then?” Honey wanted to know.
    “I saw a very queer-looking man on the other side of the creek when we were out hunting for the calf,” Trixie said. “Honey, he looked like a sheep thief to me.” Honey put her hand to her face to conceal a smile. “Where did you learn what a sheep thief looks like?” she asked.
    “All right, if you’re going to make fun of me, too,
    I won t say anything to anyone ,” Trixie said.
    Nothing Honey could say would get another word out of her.
    While the roast chicken, mashed potatoes, brown gravy, green peas, apple and celery salad, and an assortment of homemade pickles and relishes were disappearing into hungry mouths, a loud, raucous noise could be heard in the sky overhead.
    “It’s geese and ducks flying back to Saskatchewan,” Mr. Gorman explained.
    “There must be a million of them,” Brian observed.
    “Not that many, but hundreds,” Mr. Gorman said.
    “Were right on the direct line of the Mississippi flyway,” his wife explained.
    Their faces were so blank that she laughed. “Tell them about it,” she suggested to her husband.
    “The noise you hear now is probably blue geese and big Canada geese,” he said. “They’re migrating. One time four snow geese landed in the field near here to feed. The flyway that crosses this area is the biggest one on the northern continent. Each day at this time of year, we have strange visitors on the ponds, even cormorants and loons. They may stop overnight in the fields, unless the dogs around here start barking and frighten them away.”
    “I’ve noticed lots of fat robins,” Trixie said. “They’re so tame, too. And I saw a cardinal near the spring today.”
    “The robins are just starting to come back,” Mr. Gorman said, “but the cardinals stay all winter. Almost every bird you can name pays us a visit sometime during the spring migration. On a clear day we can hear golden plovers, flying high on their way from the Argentine pampas to the Arctic Circle.”
    “Do people do much hunting around here?” Jim asked.
    “Not in the spring,” Mr. Gorman said. “There’s a law about that. I don’t think many of my neighbors ever hunt. They don’t get much fun out of killing... not when so much of their time is spent trying to save the lives of animals. In the fall the birds fly a lot higher, though, on their way south. They seem to sense then that it’s open season, with every marsh and pond and stream lined with visiting hunters with lethal weapons. I hate it!”
    “Hunting has led to the extermination of some kinds of birds, hasn’t it?” Mart asked. “The passenger pigeon is one of them, isn’t it?”
    “It played a great part in its disappearance,” Mr. Gorman agreed. “It’s a pity, too,” he added. “Everybody finished? Then, let’s go into the living room.”
    “You and Mrs. Gorman go into the living room,” insisted the Bob-Whites. “We’ll get some wood for the fireplace; then we’ll all do the dishes.”
    In spite of Mrs. Gorman’s vigorous objection, they had their way. Soon a fire was blazing away and chairs were drawn around the hearth. Outside, the dogs were restless, starting up nervously at the call of a hound.
    “Call them in, will you please, boys?” Mr. Gorman asked. “They’ll startle the feeding birds outside. Anyway, my wife always feels better when Tip and Tag are part of the circle. I’ll let them out later, when we get ready to go to bed. They watch the animals at night—or try to,” he added with a hint of anxiety in his voice.
    Brian went to the door. Tip and Tag came bursting in, stopped at every chair for a pat, then settled down at Mrs. Gorman’s feet.
    It was cozy and warm around the fire. It had been a long and busy day. They had had to get up very early to drive to the airport. Soon some of the Bob-White heads began to nod.
    It wasn’t so with Trixie. She was as wide-awake as she had