The Mystery at Maypenny's

Trixie,” Honey told her friend breathlessly. “He said he didn’t even have to look very hard. They were just there, lying right by the path. He says there’s no telling how many more there might be off in the woods.”
    Trixie sat down heavily in a chair by the phone. “I feel glad and sad at the same time,” she said. “I’m glad that Jim found the ducks so he can report it to your father without getting Dan involved. But I wish there weren’t any dead ducks in the preserve at all.”
    “I know what you mean,” Honey said. “Jim was wonderful about arranging things so that Dan wouldn’t be suspected, though. It looked like he was just going riding as usual. Then, when he found the ducks, he came home and got a shovel and a burlap bag and went back for them. Otherwise, he thought Regan or somebody might see him ride out and realize later that he knew what he was looking for.”
    “Jim would think of that,” Trixie said proudly. She had had a special feeling for Jim ever since she and Honey had found him hiding out in his uncle’s house, a lonely and frightened runaway. Jim had learned to take care of himself when he was living with his wicked stepfather, Jonesy. He hadn’t forgotten how just because he’d been adopted by the Wheelers and now lived in the luxurious Manor House.
    “What did your father say when Jim showed him the ducks?” Trixie asked, suddenly aware that she’d forgotten about that most important part of Jim’s plan.
    “He hasn’t showed them to him yet. Daddy’s in New York City on business and won’t be home until seven or eight o’clock,” Honey told her.
    “Oh.” Trixie couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice. “Well, please be sure to keep me posted.”
    “I will,” Honey promised.
    Trixie said good-bye and hung up the phone, feeling frustrated. It was hard to believe that it had been only a couple of weeks since she and the other Bob-Whites had gone to Mr. Maypenny’s and he’d told them about the offer from International Pine. Already it seemed as though the controversy had always been part of life in Sleepy-side, never getting settled, always becoming more complicated. When Honey had called, Trixie had been sure that at least this latest part of the problem had been taken care of. But Mr. Wheeler wouldn’t even be notified of the seeming epidemic in his preserve for another couple of hours.
    Trixie was nervous and edgy for the rest of the evening as she waited for the phone to ring. Once she even went to the phone to call Honey, but she hung up the receiver without dialing. It was important that Mr. Wheeler think Jim had found those ducks by accident. If Trixie called to ask Honey about his reaction too soon, Mr. Wheeler might suspect that the Bob-Whites had known about the dead ducks all along.
    When bedtime came, Honey still hadn’t called. Trixie tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before she finally dropped off to sleep.
    Trixie was awakened the next morning by the ringing of the telephone. She lay still in her bed, holding her breath, waiting for someone to call to her. Instead, she heard her mother’s voice continuing to talk. She rolled over with a groan, wondering what was keeping her friend from calling.
    Trixie threw back the covers, crawled out of bed, and dressed hurriedly. She’d have to think of some excuse for calling Honey. She simply couldn’t wait another minute to find out what had happened.
    She was tying the laces of her sneakers when there was a knock at her bedroom door. “Come on in,” she called.
    Mart pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, leaning against the jam. “At last legerity conquers somnolence, I see,” he said archly.
    Trixie cocked her head and looked up at her brother, who seemed to be getting taller every day. “I think that means I’m awake,” she said. “Well, almost. I was awake half the night wondering what happened when Jim told Mr. Wheeler about finding the ducks.”
    Mart nodded, suddenly serious. “There hasn’t been any word this morning. Maybe they don’t have anything to tell us yet. Mr. Wheeler often comes home later than he plans to.”
    Trixie snapped her fingers. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “I hadn’t even thought about that. I wish you’d told me that before I went to bed. I would have ‘conquered somnolence’ a lot sooner.”
    Mart laughed. “Just plain asking is still the best way to get information. I can’t tell what’s worrying you through