The Mystery at Maypenny's

ducks, and other animals. He lived in a little cabin on a pie-shaped section of land he owned in the middle of the preserve. Dan had lived there, too, ever since his uncle, Regan, the Wheelers’ groom, had brought Dan to Sleepyside to get him away from the bad crowd he’d been hanging around with in New York City. Dan had been sullen and quiet when he’d first come to Sleepyside. Now he was a loyal and helpful Bob-White, although his work for Mr. Maypenny sometimes kept him away from club activities.
    “What’s the message?” Brian asked.
    “Well,” Dan said slowly, “it’s like this.” He paused and looked first at Honey and then at Trixie, a teasing glint in his eye. “It seems he has a mystery for us to solve.”
    Trixie and Honey both gasped at once, and Mart put both his hands to his head as if to protect himself from an avalanche. “Speak no more,” he said in mock despair. “I can say with certitude that you have already unleashed a tempest in my sleuth sibling and her loyal confederate.”
    “If you mean that Honey and I are excited at being asked to solve a mystery, Mart, you’re absolutely right,” Trixie said. “Usually grown-ups are busy trying to keep us out of mysteries.” She turned her attention from her brother back to Dan Mangan. “What is it?” she asked eagerly. “Poachers? Or did Mr. Maypenny discover a hiding place for stolen property on the preserve? What?”
    Dan shook his head ruefully. “I should have known my little joke would backfire,” he said. “I’ve got you much too worked up. It’s really nothing exciting, I’m afraid. Mr. Maypenny wants us to help him find a tree after school this afternoon. That’s all.”
    Honey’s huge hazel eyes showed her confusion as she looked from Dan to Trixie and back again.
    Trixie, too, looked confused—but only for a moment. Then her temper flared. “There are thousands of trees in those woods, Dan Mangan,” she said. “Why would Mr. Maypenny need our help to find a tree? You’re just teasing us. I bet it is a poacher, after all.”
    But when Trixie presented her theory to Mr. Maypenny that afternoon, the wiry old man shook his head. “I almost wish it were a poacher, Trixie,” he said. “It would be a lot less embarrassing to admit I had a poacher on the place than to admit I forgot where that tree is. But forget I did. You see, I noticed a tree along the edge of the path between here and Lytell’s store.
    It’s badly rotted at the base. If I cut it down now, I can make sure it falls away from the path. Otherwise, this being storm season, a big wind will come along, and, sure as I’m standing here, that tree will fall across the path.” He shrugged his broad, slightly stooped shoulders. “I should have marked it right away, but I thought I’d remember where it was. Well, I didn’t. So I decided to have Dan ask for your help instead of keeping my stupidity to myself.”
    “We’re glad to help, Mr. Maypenny,” Honey said tactfully. “Why don’t you show us the general area where you saw the tree so we can start looking for it?”
    Trixie looked at Honey appreciatively. Her friend was always so considerate of other people’s feelings. Trixie, too, had sensed Mr. Maypenny’s embarrassment at having to admit his mistake, but it was Honey who had rescued him by suggesting they begin the search.
    The tall, gaunt old man led the Bob-Whites down the path and pointed out the general location of the tree. They spread out and began their search.
    Predictably, it was Jim, the best woodsman among the Bob-Whites, who found the tree. The others heard his triumphant whoop and headed toward it.
    “That’s it,” Mr. Maypenny said, after he quickly examined the base of the tree Jim pointed out.
    “Let’s get to work,” Jim said, picking up the ax he’d carried with him. After he’d taken out a V-shaped section of the side away from the path, Dan and Brian stepped in with a saw. Soon the tree toppled harmlessly into the woods.
    Mr. Maypenny smiled and shoved his red cap to the back of his head. “Hunter’s stew today, if you folks are interested,” he said. “I’ve had a batch simmering since this morning, just in case you young ’uns worked up an appetite out here in the woods.”
    “Yummy-yum!” Trixie shouted. “Mr. May-penny’s hunter’s stew is just about my favorite thing in the whole world! Let’s eat!”
    But Brian, the most level-headed of the Bob-Whites, shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mr.