The Mystery at Mead's Mountain

rest.”
    “And some warm food,” Mart quickly prescribed for himself.
    “Gleeps, he’s thinking of food already,” said Trixie with relief. “He must be all right!”
    Mart seemed to have gained all his strength back by the time they reached the lodge. When Katie heard about Mart’s misfortune, she arranged for a special dinner featuring his favorite food, hamburgers.
    At dinner, Bert Mitchell and Jack Caridiff stopped by the Bob-Whites’ table to listen to their tales of woe about the avalanche and Honey’s missing watch.
    Jack looked apprehensive. “It’s the ghost of Thomas Mead, I tell you,” he said.
    Everyone, except Mart, stopped chewing their hamburgers. Trixie narrowed her eyes, watching Jack closely to see if he really believed what he was saying. He seemed very sincere.
    “I’m sure you’re pulling our leg,” Honey said politely but skeptically.
    “Jack’s just a mite superstitious,” Bert started to explain.
    Jack shook his head. “Everyone’s taking this whole business of the ghost too lightly,” he insisted. “If this lodge is haunted, not one of us is safe.”
    “Now, Mr. Caridiff,” said Miss Trask in her nononsense way, “I’m sure that the ghost of Thomas Mead is just folklore the people of this area like to keep alive. Just like our Hudson River ghosts. Those stories get better with each generation.”
    “Right,” said Mart, reaching for dessert. “Haven’t you heard of the legend of Sleepy Hollow?”
    “The headless horseman,” recalled Jack, “who can still be seen riding through the woods on stormy nights.”
    “Just like you saw the ghost of Mead’s Mountain our first night here, Trixie,” Brian teased.
    Trixie made a face at him and finished up her meal. She still believed that what she had seen had been real, not just her imagination’s reaction to folklore.
    Bert stood up. “I’ve got a good magazine waiting for me,” he said. “If you’re through with the ghost stories, Jack, are you coming, too?”
    “I think I’ll stay and have another cup of tea,” Jack decided. “How about you, Miss Trask? May I bring you a refill?”
    “That would be nice,” she said, handing him her cup.
    Brian, Di, Jim, and Mart decided to head back to the suite for some rest. Before exiting, Mart offered Trixie his arm and inquired formally, “Coming, Ms. Belden?”
    “Thank you for your concern,” she replied sweetly. “I think I’ll just sit here and digest my dinner for a while.”
    After he had gone, Honey leaned over and whispered, “What gives, Trixie?”
    “I’ve been waiting for him to leave,” Trixie giggled. “I want another piece of that lemon meringue pie, and I don’t want to hear all of his you’d-better-watch-your-waistline jokes.”
    Honey laughed. “I’ll join you,” she said enthusiastically. “We can afford it with all the extra exercise we’re getting.”
    Just as the girls were savoring their first bites of the pie, all of the lights in the entire restaurant began to dim... slowly... slowly. Their forks in midair, Trixie and Honey stared at each other, wide-eyed. Then the lights went off completely, and they couldn’t see a thing. Before either of them could say a word, the lights flashed on again! Just as suddenly, they were off.
    On and off the lights flickered several times, until they went out for good, leaving Trixie, Honey, Miss Trask, and Jack sitting in total darkness.
    Jack was the first to say anything. “It’s the ghost! He heard us talking and didn’t like it!”
    Miss Trask, always cool in any kind of crisis, said briskly, “I’m sure it’s a power failure. Electrical equipment is not always stable in remote areas.”
    “I wish we had our survival kits,” said Trixie. “A flashlight would sure be— Oh, here comes Wanda with some candles.” Thanking Wanda, she added, “I guess you’re prepared for any emergency around here.”
    Jack lit his candle and stood up to leave. “Are you all ready to go now?” he asked them.
    “We’re not quite done with our pie,” said Trixie.
    “But if you’re ready, Miss Trask, perhaps Jack would see you back to the suite.”
    “My pleasure,” said Jack.
    “You won’t be long, will you, girls?” asked Miss Trask before she left.
    “No,” promised Trixie. “But I do feel like a little fresh air. I' thought we might walk around the outside of the building on our way back to the room.”
    “Don’t get too cold,” Miss Trask cautioned. “You’ve only got on