The Mystery at Maypenny's

several moments after Mr. Maypenny stopped talking. The game preserve was Mr. Wheeler’s pride and joy, they knew. None of them could imagine that he would even consider selling part of it—especially not to a company that planned to build a factory on the land, driving the animals out of their homes.
    Jim finally broke the silence. “I don’t believe it!” he said angrily.
    “What Jim means is, there must be some logical explanation for what Daddy did,” Honey said. The expression on her face was a deeply troubled one, but, as always, her first concern was preventing an argument.
    Mr. Maypenny, however, was not afraid of an argument. “There’s an explanation, all right,” he said firmly. “That International Pine fellow offered your dad a pile of money for that land, that’s all. I can understand your wanting to stick up for him. There’s no doubt but what Matt
    Wheeler is a good father. But he was a shrewd businessman first—and last, and always. He’s not going to pass up a chance to make good money when it’s handed to him on a platter.”
    “You’re wrong!” Jim rose to his feet, his voice just barely below a shout. “Dad has plenty of money, and plenty of ways to make more without destroying wildlife. He wouldn’t sell the preserve or any piece of it to a company like International Pine. There’s some explanation for what happened here the other day, and I’m going to find out what it is.” Without another word, Jim walked out the front door.
    Once again, a shocked silence reigned in the cottage. Honey’s hazel eyes were brimming with tears, and she lowered her head so that her honey-colored hair hid her face.
    After a moment, Mr. Maypenny’s angry mood gave way to an apologetic one, and he walked around the table to put a gnarled hand on Honey’s shoulder. “Don’t fret because of what I said,” he told the girl. “I don’t think your dad is right about wanting to sell to International Pine, but that doesn’t mean I think he’s a bad person. Maybe there is some other explanation. If there is, your brother will soon find out about it. When Matt Wheeler adopted Jim Frayne, he got more than a head of red hair to match his own. He got a temper just as fiery and a stubborn streak just as wide.”
    Honey raised her head, revealing the beginnings of a smile on her tear-stained face. “You’re right, Mr. Maypenny,” she said. “Jim will get Daddy to tell him what the problem is. And I’ll bet it will be a reason even you would have accepted if you’d let him tell you about it the other day.”
    Mr. Maypenny threw back his head and laughed. “What you’re saying, Honey Wheeler, is that your dad and brother aren’t the only stubborn ones around these parts. And you’re right. I should have listened to your father’s explanation. It might have saved me some embarrassment— and a whole batch of hunter’s stew!”
    The Bob-Whites laughed, feeling relieved that the tension had been broken—and a little self-conscious as they realized that the enormous pot of stew Mr. Maypenny had set before them was now almost empty.
    Suddenly Dan Mangan snapped his fingers and jumped to his feet. “You’re not the only forgetful person around these parts, either, Mr. Maypenny,” he said. “I picked up a letter for you down at the mailbox, and I completely forgot to give it to you.” He left the room for a moment to retrieve the letter from his jacket and came back holding out a long white envelope.
    Mr. Maypenny regarded the envelope curiously for a moment before he took it from Dan’s hand. The old man had lived his entire life on this small piece of land. Letters from the outside world were a rarity. He seldom even thought to check his mailbox, which was almost a quarter of a mile away, on the road to town.
    Finally he took the envelope and held it in his gnarled hands. He looked at the return address and postmark for a clue as to the sender. Finding none, he took out the letter and began to read.
    The room was uncomfortably quiet again as the Bob-Whites tried not to break his concentration by either staring at him or talking among themselves.
    Mr. Maypenny suddenly folded the letter and rose abruptly from his chair, clearing his throat. “Excuse me,” he said. “I’ll be right back. I—” He broke off, turned, and left the room—but not before Trixie saw the glint of tears in the old man’s eyes.

A Clash of Viewpoints ● 2

    TRIXIE AND THE OTHERS stared after him in