The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

to explore the cave where we found the fish. Does that mean you wouldn’t consider fish from our cave unless we brought them to you?”
    This time everyone laughed. “I’m afraid I’d have no way of recognizing fish from your cave,” the man said. “In a country as wild as this seems to be, I guess you would just have to be prepared to defend your rights.”
    “That’s exactly what we’re going to do!” Trixie said. Then she said to Linnie and the Bob-Whites, “Just think what Slim may be doing, now that he’s sent us on this wild-goose chase. Let’s go and pick up Uncle Andrew and see what he’s found out.”
    They said good-bye to the editor, then jumped into the wagon and drove over to the sheriff’s office.. Uncle Andrew was sitting inside talking to two men.
    “Slim just wanted to get us out of the way,” Trixie told him. “We didn’t have to register at all.”
    “That’s a shame,” Uncle Andrew said. He left the men he was talking with and joined the Bob-Whites and Linnie. “The sheriff’s out, but they think he’ll be back soon. Here’s a bundle of mail.”
    Trixie distributed the letters, then asked, “Do we have to wait till he comes back, Uncle Andrew?”
    “I want to wait. That’s the main reason I wanted to come to town. What’s the big rush?”
    “It’s just that Slim tricked us so he could hunt around Bob-White Cave without anyone disturbing him. He knows just where we were hunting and just where we found the one ghost fish. We have to get back to the cave right away.”
    Uncle Andrew took out his watch. “When we get home, it’ll be too late for any more cave hunting today. And don’t get any ideas this time about slipping out at night, Trixie. I’ll be prepared for that. Here’s the sheriff now. Hi, Sam.”
    “Hi, Andy!”
    The sheriff greeted Linnie and the Bob-Whites warmly. “Do you need any more pickaxes or ropes?” he asked. “Or a magnifying glass for the detectives? There, there, Trixie, don’t turn up your pretty nose. I think you’re quite a girl. What can I do for you now?”
    “It’s about Slim Sanderson,” Uncle Andrew said and told the story of Slim’s actions and of the suspicion that he had set the disastrous fire.
    Mr. Owens sat awhile, stroking his chin. “That’s a pretty serious charge, Andy,” he said. “Slim’s been up to quite a lot of mischief since his folks moved out, but nothing like setting fire to a widow’s cabin. It’d take a low-down skunk to do that.”
    “We think that’s a pretty good description of Slim,” Uncle Andrew said. “I think the fire was meant to destroy the lodge as revenge on the young people and me for firing Slim as guide. Then the wind changed, and Mrs. Moore’s buildings went up in flames instead.”
    “That’s logical thinking,” Sam Owens said. “But what puzzles me is that Slim was born and raised around here, and he knows what the penalty would be for setting any kind of fire.”
    “He swore he didn’t do it. He said the old man who lives in the ghost cabin did it.”
    “That’s an unlikely story. I met the man in the woods once and talked to him. He seemed to be harmless enough, just sort of bewildered.”
    “Slim said he’s crazy and that there are some gasoline-soaked rags right now in a shed on his place.”
    “I can find out about that pretty quickly,” the sheriff said. “I’ll need to do some talking with both Slim and the man at the cabin.”
    “It’s not a man,” Linnie said positively. “It’s a ghost. He floats through the air. I saw him. These people don’t believe in spirits, Mr. Owens, but you do. The ghost cabin is haunted, and haunts have powers no live person has. You know that.”
    “Yes, Linnie, I do. I’ve also found that what’s been laid to ghosts in the past has been done by a live person. Facts are what I’m after, and facts are what I’ll have for you, Andy. Good day.”
    Even Shem and Japheth seemed dejected on the way back to the lodge. They plodded along stolidly, their eyes on the ground, their huge shoulders straining ahead of the swaying wagon.
    The Bob-Whites were glad when they reached the Hawkinses’ cabin and the children, browned and freckled, ran out. They hadn’t long to visit, for Mrs. Moore turned to wave good-bye to her neighbor and, helped by Jim and Brian, stepped on the axle and into the wagon seat.
    “You were later than I thought,” she said. “It’s a good thing I only have to warm up the dinner. What kept