The Mysterious Code

“You’re just dressed for riding. Do you have
your flashlights? Remember, Trixie, this is no adventure. You’re going to find
Reddy, and when you find him, you come right straight back home!”
    “Brian and I will
try to curb her curiosity,” Jim said and winked at Trixie as the three of them
left.
    The thing Jim liked
best about Trixie was her spirit of adventure, her readiness to go anywhere any
time and not hold back, afraid, as so many girls did.
    Lately Jim had been
noticing, too, that Trixie was a pretty girl. Just now his eyes brightened in
approval at the picture she made in her great red coat and scarlet scarf. Her
eyes were as clear blue as a summer sky, and her cheeks flushed pink with
excitement.
    Trixie looped a
leash over her arm. It was an indignity Reddy seldom suffered. He hated a
leash, but he must be taught that he could not rim away.
    They set off briskly
through the woods. From time to time they stopped to call the setter. “Reddy!
Here, Reddy! Come, boy!”
    There was no
response.
    “Maybe someone
picked him up,” Jim said. “Someone in a car over on Glen Road.”
    “It would take a
squad of mounted police to get Reddy into a strange car,” Trixie said. “I’m
worried.”
    “Now don’t go
feminine on us,” Brian warned. “Brian Belden, you’re worried yourself!” Trixie
said.
    “Both of you had better be a little worried,” Jim said, pushing his way through the path. “Do you see
how the wind has changed? Where is the sun?”
    “It’s getting late
in the day,” Trixie said. “It must be past four o’clock. No, Jim, you’re right!
Listen to that wind!”
    “It’s about ten
degrees colder, too,” Brian said, beating his chest to keep the blood
circulating. “Where is that dog? Here, Reddy! Here, Reddy!”
    “How do you know he
even came down this path, Trixie?” Jim asked.
    “He always has
followed this path, or gone into the woods on this part of the preserve,”
Trixie answered. “He’s here in the forest somewhere.”
    “But where?” Brian
asked. “I don’t like the way that wind is acting.”
    “Now who’s scared?”
Trixie asked.
    “Maybe you should go
back home, Trixie,” Jim suggested.
    “I’ll never do
that,” Trixie answered. “I’ll go back when both of you go back, and not before.
I don’t think I’d go back even then. Just think of listening to Bobby cry all
night long if we don’t find Reddy. No, I’m going right on.”
    “You’ll have to do
the explaining to Moms,” Brian said, “if we get lost. I hope you know
where we are. I don’t. Do you, Jim?”
    ”I... don’t...
think... so,” Jim said slowly. “Trixie, let’s make one last attempt to call
Reddy. Then we must turn back. Okay?”
    ”Yes, Jim,” Trixie
said meekly. “But I don’t want to give up.”
    Brian and Jim beat
back the snow-covered bushes on each side of the path and called, “Here,
Reddy!”
    There was no
answering bark—only silence. “Here, Reddy!” Trixie called softly, coaxingly.
“Here, Reddy boy! Come, Reddy!”
    A half-moan,
half-bark answered her.
    “He’s near here!”
she called to the boys. “Right around here someplace. Where are you, Reddy? I’m
coming!”
    The whimper and bark
grew a little louder. They turned in its direction. The snow was coming down in
a thick, heavy cloud. Even beneath the trees the fall was so dense they could
see only a little way ahead of them in the fast-gathering dusk.
    “Reddy?” Trixie kept
calling. “Reddy?” The answering whine was so near she almost stumbled over the
big red dog lying on the ground.
    “What is it, Reddy?”
Trixie asked, down on her knees at his side. “Good Reddy, good dog, are you
hurt?” Reddy licked her hand in welcome.
    “He’s caught in a
trap,” Brian said, kneeling at the dog’s other side. “It must be his leg—yes,
there it is. Quiet, fella, I’ll try not to hurt you. His foot is caught—just
the tip. Thank goodness, it isn’t any worse.” Brian released the trap.
    “Good Reddy!” Trixie
said, hugging their pet. “Is his foot broken, Brian?”
    “No, but it must
hurt pretty bad. There, there, Reddy boy!” Brian lifted the big dog into his
arms.
    “Who’d be so cruel
as to set a trap around here?” Trixie asked. “I hope you’ll ask your father to
have Mr. Maypenny look into it right away, Jim.”
    “It’s an old rusted
fox trap,” Jim announced. “There’s a bounty on fox pelts now. Someone must have
found this old trap someplace and set it