The Mystery of the Castaway Children

Honey, getting into the spirit of the game. She draped the mesh over Trixie’s back, tied the strings across her chest, and put a soft browband on her forehead. The band fell down, of course, since Trixie’s head was nowhere near as large as a horse’s.
    “Oops, the wind must be blowing,” giggled Honey. “I need a blanket pin to fasten your fly sheet under your belly.”
    “Watch your language,” Trixie tut-tutted.
    “You’re the one who said you were a horse,” Honey insisted.
    “Don’t believe everything I say,” Trixie declared. “Get me out of here—this is hot! I don’t see how a horse stands a sheet on a hot day.”
    “A horse can get a chill, even when the air is warm, if a breeze blows on his damp coat,” Honey reminded her.
    Ella clapped her hands as Trixie scrambled to her feet. “I always have such fun when you girls visit me! I learn about things, too.”
    “Useful things—like hoof-picks and fly sheets,” Trixie said dryly.
    “Well, if I ever find another fly sheet in my basket, at least I’ll recognize it. But, Trixie, you didn’t demonstrate that ropy-looking loop.”
    “Can’t,” chuckled Trixie. “That goes under the horse’s tail!”
    “Sorry I asked,” Ella groaned, looking at the clock. “Will you girls have lunch with me?” Trixie hesitated.
    Honey, thinking that Trixie was tactlessly putting her own desire to get back on the case over Ella’s feelings, cried, “We’d love to, Ella!”
    Then she turned to glare at Trixie.

Sergeant Molinson Needs Help • 5

    ACTUALLY, TRIXIE had paused because she’d remembered that Ella was on a small salary.
    Ella seemed to sense her feeling. “It won’t be fancy—just a sandwich,” she went on with no embarrassment. “I’m allowed to have company as long as I don’t order fresh lobster.”
    “Well, jeepers!” Trixie simpered, putting her finger to her cheek in a dainty gesture that would have made Mart proud. “I myself am missing green turtle soup at home today. Moms will never forgive me!”
    “La-di-dah!” Honey snorted. “If I ordered that today, our cook would send me out to catch the turtle.”
    “I said I was missing green turtle soup!” Trixie hooted. “Actually, I was going to spread peanut butter on a slab of bread.”
    Ella reached for the telephone. “I’m sure I can do better than that.”
    “I’ll run down to the kitchen and pick up the order,” Trixie offered.
    “Pete will appreciate that. Thank you.”
    Trixie felt a little guilty. She wasn’t trying to save steps for Pete; she wanted to see if someone in the kitchen had noticed any strange riders on the path.
    When she asked the short-order cook, she received a shrewd glance. “Is something wrong up your way? Sergeant Molinson wanted to know about riders, too. The answer is no.”
    So he beat me to it again, thought Trixie, chagrined.
    Back in Ella’s room, Ella greeted Trixie with a pouting expression. “Why were you wasting time talking about horses, Trixie Belden, when you had such exciting news to tell me?” she asked.
    Honey confessed that she had just told Ella about finding Moses.
    “Oh...” Normally, Trixie didn’t like to talk about a case until she had more to go on. The sergeant apparently felt the same way. Neither the cook nor Ella Kline had been questioned about a baby. The policeman had been concerned only about travelers. It just went to show that, whether beginner or professional, one could only start at the outer edge of a web and work inward, strand by strand, to find the spider.
    Trixie flashed her widest grin. “I don’t suppose there are baby clothes in that basket?” she hinted.
    “I wish I could say yes,” Ella said soberly. “Would you like to see for yourself?”
    “Did the sergeant look?” Trixie asked.
    Ella shook her head, and Trixie seized the chance to investigate something the sergeant had overlooked. Of course, Ella was right. There was no sign of a baby’s things in her basket.
    Trixie forced a smile. “Let’s eat our sandwiches,” she said. “All this talk about lobsters and peanut butter has got me starving!”
    By the time the two girls, hot and itchy from their hours in the woods, returned to Crabapple Farm, Mrs. Belden had brought her household under control. She was enjoying the shaded backyard with Di and Moses, who lay on a well-padded blanket in a sunny spot in the grass. Di fussed to make sure the rays of the sun didn’t shine directly into his eyes. She turned him