The Mystery at Mead's Mountain

healthy. I’ll go across very slowly. If it holds my weight, it will hold us all.”
    “Jim, please,” Honey wailed.
    Jim took off his skis. “Brian, will you hold my hand as I start out? Don’t worry, Honey.”
    Gingerly he tested each step with his ski pole before advancing. Trixie could see that he was being very cautious, but she held her breath just the same till he reached the other side.
    “Solid as can be,” he called encouragingly.
    One by one, the others followed him. Di and Honey hung back uncertainly until Trixie, acting braver than she felt, took her skis off and walked directly across the large log.
    “Just take a deep breath and go, but don’t look down,” she advised the others.
    Mart poked her with his ski pole. “ ’Tis useless to advertise your heroism—excuse me, heroine-ism—in my hearing, sis. I saw you go green around the gills when you looked down.”
    Unable to think of a retort, Trixie contented herself for the time being with poking him right back.
    On this side of the stream, the terrain was more rugged, which suited Trixie just fine. Ready for a faster pace, she seized her first opportunity for it when they reached a long, steep, curving downhill grade. She let those in front of her get far ahead. She didn’t want any slowpokes in her way when she took this hill by storm. Just to be on the safe side, she hollered the skier’s warning of “Track!” as she began gaining speed do\vn the hill. This was fun—almost like flying without a plane!
    At about the same time she remembered Eric’s caution about avoiding obstacles long before coming to them, Trixie began to suspect that she was losing control. She could see a curve up ahead, and she crouched farther down on her skis, putting her weight on her right foot. One ski made the turn, but the other insisted on going straight ahead. The next thing she knew, Trixie found herself wound around a clump of bushes, half on the path, half in the brush.
    Her glorious flight had ended with a crash landing. She didn’t seem to be hurt, only stunned. But she was definitely caught in the bushes.
    I’ve got to get up, she thought. Brian's still behind me, and I’m blocking the path. After one last desperate attempt to pull herself off the path, she covered her head with her arms.
    She should have known that Brian, sensible as ever, would be taking the hill slower than she’d tried to take it. “Trixie!” she heard him yell. Peeking upward, she saw him coming straight at her. He managed to avoid her, but he couldn’t stop in time to avoid toppling into the snowdrift on the other side of the path.
    Instantly he scrambled to his feet and rushed to her side. “Trix, you okay?”
    “Brian, I feel fine, but I just can’t move.”
    Brian forgot his doctor-to-be manners and burst out laughing. “That’s because you’re a human pretzel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so wound up!” Trixie glared at him. “Don’t just laugh—unwind me.” By the time Trixie and Brian caught up, the others were out of the woods, waiting impatiently at the edge of a large snowfield.
    “Hey, where have you two been?” scolded Honey. “You’re holding us up from crossing no-man’s-land.”
    “Obstacle on the trail,” said Brian, pointing to Trixie. “Has our sister been schussbooming again?” Mart inquired.
    “I don’t know what that is,” Trixie said stormily. “I was merely knocked over by some bushes.”
    “You’re a schussboomer, ipso facto,” Mart teased. “Case dismissed.”
    Trixie sighed noisily. Mart was beginning to get on her nerves.
    Acting as peacemaker, Di spoke up. “We dubbed this no-man’s-land because it looks as though no one has ever crossed the field before.”
    Trixie saw what Di meant. There was an overhanging cliff at one end of the smooth, glassy snowfield, and a winding river marked the boundary on the opposite side. On the other two sides were woods.
    “Hey, look!” Trixie exclaimed. “There’s another skier!” She pointed to the other side of the snowfield. Someone had just come out of the woods and was starting across the broad expanse toward them.
    “Hello!” Honey called, waving her arms over her head. The skier stopped, seemed to look at them, and quickly disappeared back into the woods.
    “Well, he certainly isn’t very friendly,” said Honey. “And everyone else at Mead’s Mountain has been so nice.”
    “Except our ghost,” Di reminded her.
    “He’s probably just another