The Marshland Mystery

girl had left them. Now I remember that Miss Rachel Martin was wearing old-fashioned buttoned shoes with pointed toes when she talked to me at the door. So it’s only logical
    that the footprints must have been hers!”
    “Logical, my small sister, but quite irrelevant. What does it prove about Gaye’s whereabouts?” Brian teased.
    Trixie hesitated, and Jim grinned at her. “Got you there, Miss Belden!”
    Trixie frowned at them and tilted her nose. “Well, anyhow, it’s interesting,” she said loftily and lapsed into silence until they had turned the corner and were in sight of the small white cottage.
    Brian stopped the car close to where the bike stood against the tree near the muddy ditch.
    “There!” Trixie said triumphantly, pointing to it.
    “I don’t hear any barking,” Jim said, getting out.
    “Mr. Poo is probably asleep,” Trixie guessed.
    “I hope we don’t interrupt his dear little nap,” Brian chuckled. “That is, if he is here.”
    “Let’s get the bike loaded into the car before we go to the cottage,” Jim suggested.
    It took the two boys only a few minutes to drag the small bicycle out of the mud and load it into the backseat of the car.
    Trixie watched silently, casting uneasy glances toward the cottage. She expected to see Miss Rachel come stalking out at any moment to order them away.
    The sun was now a ball of fire behind the tall evergreens beyond the cottage. In a few minutes, it would dip down and be gone. Then there would be only a short period of spring twilight before dark settled down. They would have to hurry if they had to go on to the swamp to look for Gaye.
    “Well, who faces the lady dragon in yon castle?” Jim asked as he closed the car door. “Let’s pick a victim.”
    “She won’t even open the door if she sees it’s me back again,” Trixie said promptly, “so it’s got to be one of you.”
    “Ungrammatical, but possibly true,” Jim agreed, with a wink at Brian. “So, Dr. Brian, polish up your best bedside manner and try it out on the lady.”
    “Oh, see here, now—” Jim’s kidding had gotten Brian a little flustered.
    “Duty calls.” Jim grinned. “Scoot along, Doc.”
    Brian snorted, “Chicken, hey?” And as Jim pretended to take a swing at him, Brian ducked and laughed.
    “Do hurry,” Trixie said, with a nervous glance at the disappearing sun. And Brian, sobering suddenly, walked rapidly toward the cottage.
    Jim and Trixie watched for a moment as he went in at the gate and hurried to the door. Then Jim glanced toward the barn. “Did you look carefully inside there?” he asked.
    “As well as I could,” Trixie told him, “but it was so dark and cobwebby, I felt sure Gaye would never hide in there.” She shuddered. “At least, I never would!”
    Jim nodded. “I hid in a place like that once, when I was running away from my stepfather. It was scary after dark, with the funny noises and mysterious shadows.”
    “Ugh!” Trixie shivered.
    “Hey! The bedside manner is working!” Jim nodded toward the cottage. Trixie stared. Brian was talking to Miss Rachel, and there was a pleasant smile on the face of the little old lady in her old-fashioned starched cotton dress. She held out her hand to Brian in a friendly greeting, and a moment later they both turned toward Trixie and Jim.
    “Hey, Trix! You and Jim come here. Miss Martin wants to meet you.”
    “Well, what do you know?” Trixie’s jaw dropped.
    “Good old Doc Belden scores again!” Jim laughed, and he took her arm as they hurried over to join Brian at the cottage door. Miss Martin waited for them with a smile.
    “There hasn’t been any little girl here except yourself,” she told Trixie pleasantly. “I’m sorry I was so short with you this noon, child. I didn’t know then that you were Peter Belden’s daughter. You Beldens have lived in Sleepyside almost as long as we Martins have been here. Your father is a fine man.”
    “Why, thanks, Miss Martin.” Trixie beamed.
    “My sister is sure she heard Gaye’s poodle barking somewhere around here earlier,” Brian said with a smile. “You may have seen him. A small white puppy. Gaye took him with her, we think, when she ran away.”
    Miss Rachel shook her head. “I haven’t seen him , either.”
    Trixie glanced past the elderly woman, still hoping to see some evidence that Gaye was there. But the neat, small living room showed nothing except that Miss Rachel was an excellent housekeeper and owned some fine