The Mysterious Visitor

shivering with cold," he said, "and haven’t sense enough to know it." As he helped her slip it on, he added, "About five miles from here, this road merges with Main Street at the intersection to the highway. Unless it’s his night off, Spider Webster will be on duty. If the light is red, Monty will have to stop, and we can yell out of the window. If it’s green, we’ve somehow got to attract Spider’s attention as we pass him." Trixie nodded. "But how?"
    "That I don’t know," Mart admitted. "I just keep hoping the light will be red, and at that point my mind goes blank."
    "I know what we can do," Trixie cried. "There are lots of pots and pans in the kitchenette. We can throw them at Spider. That’ll make him so mad he’ll surely jump on his motorcycle and go after the driver of the tow car. If, as you say, he’s on duty."
    "Any cop will do," Mart said. "You’ve got a brain, Sis. And boy, will it ever be fun to throw things and not get arrested for it."
    Trixie grinned. "I just hope whatever I throw lands near enough to Spider to attract Iris attention." She stopped suddenly. "Mart! Suppose nobody’s on duty at the intersection."
    "There’s just got to be," Mart said grimly. "There always is."
    "Yes," Trixie said, "but suppose he’s gone off after a car that was traveling too fast or a car that ignored the traffic light."
    "That can’t happen to us," Mart said. "And if it does, when we get on the highway, we can attract the attention of a passing car."
    "I doubt that," Trixie said. "They whiz by in both directions. And it’s night. If it were daytime we could yell and wave something out of the back window." Then, as she was struck by a horrible thought, Trixie grabbed the flashlight from Mart and turned it off.
    "What’s the matter with you—" he began. "The front window," she gasped. "Suppose Monty should look back and see a light in here." They almost knocked each other down in their haste to close that window and draw the blind. Trixie turned on the flashlight, and Mart collapsed on a bunk, mopping his brow.
    "Gleeps," he moaned, catching his breath. "Why didn’t I think of that?"
    Then, to their horror, they realized that they were hardly moving at all. Monty must have seen the light, after all, and was slowly easing the car and trailer to a stop on one side of the road!
    "Quick!" Trixie whispered, handing Mart the rope with which Monty had tied her hands. "I’ll gag myself. You tie my hands together—and get back into the shower compartment!"
    Mart obeyed orders just in time. Monty, with both gun and flashlight, appeared a split second after the shower door closed. He directed the beam at Trixie, and she was sure he must be able to see and hear the wild beating of her heart. Suppose he decided to look in the shower compartment. What would he do if he discovered Mart? He could so easily bind and gag him, too. He could drag them both off into the woods and leave them there to die slowly from starvation and exposure.
    Trixie stared at him, hoping that her eyes looked defiant. He leered. "Thought I saw a light in here. Guess it was the reflection of my own headlights." He backed down the step, closed the door, and locked it. In a minute the trailer was speeding along the road again, and Mart came out of the shower compartment.
    As he released Trixie he said, "I died a thousand deaths in there. Do you realize the windows, except for the front one, are open now? When
    Monty was in here before, they were closed! And, Trix, you’re wearing my sweater! If he remembers you weren’t wearing one before, we’re sunk!" Trixie let out her pent-up breath in a long sigh. "He aimed the flashlight he was carrying at me and at nothing else. I never thought about the windows, and he must not have noticed the sweater. All I could think about was that this is a deserted road and lie had a gun in his hand.
    Mart peered out of a window. "It won’t be long now," he said. "We’d better get armed."
    "And man the portholes," Trixie said with a nervous giggle as she followed him into the kitchenette. "Let’s see. When we reach the intersection, the cop on duty will be on our left. So we’d better man the windows on the left side, huh?"
    Mart nodded. "Hold the flashlight while I get our ammunition in place." He stacked pots, pans, and their lids on the bunks underneath two of the windows. Then they sat down to wait.

"A Likely Tale!" • 18

    IT SEEMED like hours to Trixie as she and Mart crouched on the bunks,