The Mystery at Maypenny's

stand by his father.” Brian paused and sighed. Then he added, “Still, I don’t think his respect for our positions makes him feel any less lonely right now, or any less worried about whether he’s going to have a place to live when the controversy is over.”
    “I think this whole thing has been harder on Dan than anybody else,” Trixie agreed. “He’s spent so much of his life trying to find a place where he feels that he belongs. He even got involved with that bad bunch in New York City—when he’s not a bad person at all—just because they seemed to take an interest in him.”
    Brian nodded. “When Regan finally brought him to Sleepyside, Dan found a great place to live with Mr. Maypenny. He also found a group of friends, the Bob-Whites, who like him for what he is without trying to force him to be rowdy or get into trouble.”
    “And now his abode is in jeopardy and his companions seem alienated,” Mart concluded.
    “Poor Dan,” Trixie said. “I think we should be extra careful to let him know he’s our friend, until this whole thing is over.”
    “I don’t think we ought to do that, Trix,” Brian said. “Dan is pretty good at noticing things. Being extra nice, for whatever reason, still boils down to treating Dan differently than we have in the past. It might make him even more nervous than he already is.”
    Trixie wrinkled her nose, annoyed at her own stupidity. “You’re right, Brian. We Bob-Whites are always teasing one another and pretending to fight. If all of a sudden we start being nice as pie to Dan, he’ll probably feel like an outsider again. I guess all we can do is try to keep things as much as possible the way they’ve always been. But it’s hard.”
    “Indubitably,” Mart agreed gloomily.
    Trixie helped her mother clear the table and wash the dishes, too busy thinking about Dan and Mr. Maypenny and Brian and Jim to do her usual chattering as she worked.
    When she was finished, she laid the dish towel on the counter absentmindedly and wandered out of the kitchen. From the living room, she could hear the murmur of voices, first her father’s and then Brian’s, as they talked about the debate. Occasionally Mart’s voice would come in briefly, too. Trixie smiled to herself. Nobody loved to argue as much as Mart did. She could imagine him pouncing on anything his father and brother said that sounded weak, tearing it apart the way the opposition would at the debate. This was one time when Brian would be grateful for Mart’s feisty nature.
    Trixie considered joining the others in the living room, but she decided against it. She would hear Brian’s debate at school, since the principal had invited the whole school to attend. Right now, she wanted to get away from International Pine for a while.
    She wandered up to her room and stood in front of her bookshelf. She looked over the rows of books and pulled out Huckleberry Finn. It was an old favorite, one she’d read over and over and had never tired of. She flopped down on the bed, opened the book, and started to read. Soon she was lost in the story. Sleepyside and International Pine were far away. What was real was the Mississippi River, the raft, and Huck and Jim.
    She was laughing at Huck, dressed up in a girl’s clothes complete with bonnet, when a soft knock on her door brought her back to the real world.
    Come in,” she said, a little impatient at having her fun interrupted.
    The door opened, and Bobby wandered into the room. For a moment, Trixie felt startled by the fact that Bobby had knocked. Ordinarily he barged in wherever he wanted to go, with a six-year-old’s confidence that he’d be welcome.
    “I’d like to have a talk, Trixie,” he announced.
    Trixie bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a smile. Now she realized why Bobby had knocked. He wanted to have a “grown-up” talk, so he was doing everything in the most grown-up way he knew how.
    Trixie closed the book and laid it on the night table next to her bed. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, her back propped against the headboard of the bed, and folded her hands in her lap. “What is it you want to talk to me about, Bobby?” she asked seriously.
    Bobby sat down near the foot of the bed, his feet dangling over the edge. He folded his hands in his lap in imitation of Trixie’s and looked at her for a moment, his forehead creased in a frown, before he spoke.
    “I wanna know about the pine company,” Bobby said. “I wanna know how