The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

to steal it. Every time I saw him in the woods, I shot my rifle. That scared him off. He’s nothing but a big coward and a bully.”
    “You can say that again!” Mart said.
    Matthew Moore’s voice grew stronger with indignation. “He stole that bait bucket, too, that belonged to the little girl. He tried to sell it to Mr. Glendenning. Mr. Glendenning is a good man. He had no time for Slim. After you young ones left the cabin that night, I took your bucket back to that cave. When you were away yesterday afternoon, I sat up there on the cliff with my rifle trained on the cave, too. I wasn’t going to let Slim steal anything from you again.”
    “That’s the miracle that kept Slim away afterward,” Trixie said. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Moore. And you knew that we were at your cabin that night? Did you fire those shots?”
    Matthew Moore’s face saddened. “Yes. I fired them to scare Slim. He was in that woods. I wanted to keep him away from you. About the one thing that he’s afraid of is a gun.”
    “That makes me ashamed,” Trixie said. “I thought that bundle you had over your shoulder was my bait bucket and fish.”
    “It was my ginseng. I was putting it in my hiding place. It’s still there, Annie. It’ll help Linnie go to that school. I don’t blame you at all, Trixie,” he continued. “Slim tried all the time to throw suspicion on me. I only wish I’d known what he was up to before he set that fire.”
    “That’s another thing that makes me ashamed,” Trixie said. “I even thought at one time that you and Mr. Glendenning might have helped Slim set the fire. I saw someone lurking around the cabin that night, and I heard someone sing Linnie’s song.”
    “I was there, all right. The song tormented me. I couldn’t remember things. When I got back to my cabin, I smelled smoke and saw the glow of the fire. I hurried back with buckets and tried to wet the ground around the pines with water from the spring up there.”
    “Oh, Matthew, I told Trixie it was your spirit singing that song....”
    “Now, Annie,” Matthew Moore said, “I hope we have a lot of years ahead before we turn to spirits. I’d like to go to our own home now, just you and me and Linnie together.”
    Jim, Brian, and Mart helped the injured man to his feet, and, leaning on them, he managed to walk to the cabin. Trixie and Honey followed the family, too excited at the remarkable turn of events to part from the “ghost.”
    When the boys had helped Matthew Moore to the rocking chair in the cabin living room, the Bob-Whites tactfully left the family to themselves. “We’ll get our own dinner,” Trixie told Mrs. Moore. “You just stay home with your husband and Linnie.” Gratefully Mrs. Moore agreed.
    “Gosh, I feel sort of creepy,” Mart said as they returned to the lodge. “It’s as if a dead person had actually come back to life.”
    “That’s practically true,” Trixie answered. “Jeepers, when you think of all the things that have happened here!”
    “And what has to happen yet before we get the reward for finding the fish,” Brian added.
     
    The boys insisted on going down to Ghost River for a last try at fishing. When they came back with a string of bass, Trixie and Honey had the pan ready for them on the big cookstove. Uncle Andrew, lured to the kitchen by the shouting and laughing he heard, offered to mix a salad of crisp wild greens, tender lettuce, and onions from the garden.
    It was a happy group that sat at the table their last night at the lodge. The bass were golden brown. The salad was crisp and the dressing superb. They had young green corn plunged in hot water as soon as it was gathered and husked, and there were tiny pickled beets, mashed potatoes with butter, and, for dessert, a spicy deep-dish apple pie.
    “Mrs. Moore made this pie, and she should have some of it for their dinner,” Trixie said. “I’ll just run over with some.”
    Uncle Andrew shook his head. “I don’t believe I would. Mrs. Moore can make a cordon bleu dinner out of canned squirrel and poke greens. They need to be by themselves this evening. It’s wonderful what’s happened to them. Mrs. Moore has been so courageous all these ten years.”
    “Linnie, too,” Trixie said.
    Uncle Andrew nodded. “Things are going to be much better for the family from now on. You know, I’d gladly have helped send Linnie to the School of the Ozarks, but she’ll be much happier the way it is. She’ll have to work for part of her