The Mystery at Mead's Mountain

emergency,” said Jim.
    Honey glowed as she and Di started back up the cliff. Not too long ago, she would have been the first to faint at the sight of blood. Now she was actually helping in a big way.
    The old man whispered something weakly as the rest of them waited for Di and Honey to return with the food and blankets.
    “It’s only a shallow gash on the side of your forehead,” Brian told him. “The kind that might give you a headache for a few days. You’re very lucky, sir.” Mr. Moonshine just grunted. To Trixie, it didn’t sound like a grunt of agreement.
    “I’m going to pack cold snow around your cut now,” Brian said soothingly. “That should help stop the bleeding and some of the pain.”
    The old man simply moaned his consent.
    Soon Honey and Di came puffing back. “Getting back up that cliff isn’t easy, but we found a less steep path not too far away,” said Di. “How is he?”
    “He seems to be okay,” Brian assured them. “He could use something to drink, though.”
    “Katie packed a container of tomato soup," recalled Honey. She poured a cup for the old man. “Here, sir, this will help you keep warm. You remember Trixie and me from yesterday, don’t you?” she said, and then she introduced the others.
    The old man, with trembling hands, took a few sips, then looked up. He seemed to study each of them, his gaze resting on Brian. “My name’s Carl,” he said weakly. “Just Carl, that’s all. I feel better now.” He started to sit up slowly.
    Trixie could tell that his head still really hurt, but he seemed determined to get moving.
    “You need to rest,” Brian said. “Some of us will ski back to the lodge for a rescue litter. Then we’ll take you to a hospital. You should be examined by a professional.”
    “You’re professional enough for me. I’m a tough old coot.”
    “Are you sure you’re okay, sir? You really ought to have that cut cleaned and bandaged by a doctor,” Brian worried. “You may need stitches.”
    “No, I don’t break easy. You just fix me up the best you can, young man. You’re a—a nice bunch of kids.” Carl’s voice trailed off, then he seemed to gather strength. “Listen and listen closely. To thank you for helping me, I’ve got some important advice for you. Mead’s Mountain is a nice place to ski, but playing detective games here may not be very healthy. I’m telling you this because... I don’t want to see you hurt.”
    “How do you know we’re detectives?” asked Trixie.
    “Word gets around. I’m just telling you to play it safe and mind your own business.”
    Brian began bandaging the head wound as well as he could. “Let’s not worry about that now. The important thing is to get you somewhere warm where you can rest. Where do you live? We’ll help you home.”
    “No!” Carl tried to get to his feet, but he sank back to the ground in pain. “Just let me rest here. I’ll be fine.”
    “Here, have something to eat, Carl,” Di urged. “How about a chicken leg?”
    After Carl had eaten some chicken and drunk more soup, he managed to stand up. “I have work to do,” he said awkwardly. “Thank you for your help.”
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” Brian asked again. “We’d be happy to help you to wherever you’re going.”
    “I’m fine,” he snapped. “How many times do I have to tell you that! Will you kids just quit meddling in my life?” Then he pointed at Trixie and yelled, “Especially you!” With that, off he skied into the woods.
    “Wow, Trixie! He is a bit peculiar, your Mr. Carl Moonshine,” said Jim.
    “Peculiar, nothing. He’s a moonshiner or my name isn’t Trixie Belden.”
    “Okay, Elizabeth Taylor,” said Mart, “let’s discuss it while we finish lunch.”
    “Please, not here,” said Di, pointing to the bloodstained snow.
    “You’re right,” agreed Mart. “This place diminishes even my appetite.”
    “Come on,” Jim said, “we have to go back up the cliff anyway to get our skis and stuff.”
    Soon they were all settled comfortably, eating the remains of their lunch and admiring the panoramic view below them.
    “Now,” said Trixie, “let’s go over all the clues.”
    “I’m totally mixed up,” Honey admitted. “There’s so much going on—Carl, Eric, Pat, the ghost, and those awful notes.”
    “All we can do about Eric or Pat is check their footprints,” said Trixie. “It’s Carl who’s really mystifying.”
    “I didn’t like his warning about Mead’s