The Mystery at Mead's Mountain

restaurant, he stopped by their table and added, “I’m sure your party will be a lot of fun, though. I’ll see you next year.”
    Once he was gone, Mart nudged Trixie. “What did I tell you? He and Carl are taking off tonight. We’ll probably never see him again, period!”
    Trixie ignored him and concentrated on getting out of the lodge. While Miss Trask and the others were busy with party preparations, Trixie, Honey, and Jim were hiding the Tan Van in the bushes near the Porcupine Pond turnoff. They walked a half mile down the narrow road until they came to a smaller trail that led down the steep hill to the frozen pond.
    It was a heavily wooded area. After scouting around, they decided to hide on a small knoll at the top of the hill, where they could observe the entire pond. They each tucked flashlights into their parka pockets and hid their survival kits in the bushes. Once they made sure they themselves were well hidden, they began their long wait.
    Their idle whisperings to each other had lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and finally Jim became restless. “It’s eight-thirty, Trixie. I don’t think anyone is coming. Maybe we ought to go back.”
    “Can’t we wait just a little longer?” Trixie pleaded. “I just know that Carl was telling the truth.” Trixie felt a little sick to her stomach. It was beginning to look like Mart had been right after all, and she’d actually helped the crooks escape.
    Growing more miserable by the minute, she almost didn’t believe it when she heard the faint rumble of a car coming down the heavily rutted road toward them. She could tell that Honey and Jim heard it, too, and she held her breath. In a few minutes, they would know who’d kidnapped Ellen Johnson.

A Meeting at Porcupine Pond • 17

    TRIXIE SQUINTED as the car headlights flashed in her eyes. After the car had turned around at the end of the road, the lights dimmed and the motor fell silent. Trixie strained her eyes to see the car and felt a sharp twinge of disappointment.
    “It’s Pat and Katie’s pickup!” she gasped.
    Two figures jumped out of the vehicle and headed down the path to the pond. Both were wearing jeans and parkas, with ski masks that covered the entire face.
    “I was hoping it wouldn’t be Pat and Katie,” Honey whispered.
    “Me, too,” Trixie sighed.
    “Well, we’ve got a job to do now,” Jim muttered.
    As the two figures walked out onto the ice, a third figure emerged from the woods on the opposite shore. Trixie could see Carl’s long white hair gleaming in the moonlight and the silhouette of a pack on his back.
    Jim crept to the O’Briens’ truck and carefully pulled up the hood. “Trixie,” he whispered, “I need your help.”
    She hurried over, and he pointed to the back of the engine. “Shine your flashlight right here.” He leaned way over the engine to the distributor and pulled out a wire.
    “What’s that?” Trixie asked.
    “The coil wire. This is a little trick Tom Delanoy taught me. Here, put this in your pocket and don’t lose it. That pickup can’t go anywhere without it.” Then, as quietly as he had opened it, Jim closed the hood.
    Trixie walked over to the driver’s side of the truck and swept her flashlight across the ground. In the arc of her beam was a line of footprints—waffle-stomper boot prints. She bent down to examine them. “Jim,” she said tensely, “these are five-pointed stars. These prints match the ones we saw next to the tree!”
    Jim sighed. “I guess that makes Pat our ghost. Even though so many clues pointed to him, I just wasn’t ready for this. Boy, did I have them pegged wrong. I thought they were really great people.”
    “So did I,” Trixie said softly.
    “Come here, you two,” Honey hissed. She motioned to them to join her on the edge of the knoll.
    The fresh snow reflected the bright moonlight, so they had a clear view of all that went on, even though the people on the ice were too far away for them to hear anything.
    “Where’s Ellen?” asked Jim. “I thought you said they were supposed to bring Ellen.”
    “Jeepers, I wonder why they didn’t,” fretted Trixie. “You—you don’t suppose they hurt her, do you?” asked Honey.
    “Don’t even think that,” Trixie scolded, although she was already considering worse possibilities.
    The three figures on the ice were pointing and waving at each other, and they were obviously angry. Eventually things calmed down, and they seemed to talk for