The Mystery of the Castaway Children

television.
    Mart looked up when he heard the footsteps on the porch and yelped, “It’s about time you got back!”
    Di jumped up and ran to the screen door. “Were they Moses’ parents?” Seeing the baby without noticing who carried him, she cried, “Oh, I’m sorry!”
    “Don’t be sorry!” Trixie lilted. “Dodgy likes his room so much that he brought his mother back to share it with him!”
    “Dodgy? Who’s Dodgy?” Brian wanted to know.
    “Robert! Moses! Brian, his name—I mean, his nickname—is Dodgy,” Honey replied.
    The two groups met and mingled, those who had stayed home and those who had traveled. Everybody talked at once. Hands reached to touch Dodgy; hands reached to shake Eileen Dodge’s hand. Mart got so carried away he even shook hands with the sergeant. “Great job, sir!” he said.
    “Well, thanks, Mart,” Sergeant Molinson said. “It’s time I got back to the station.” As he turned to head toward his car, he looked at Trixie and Honey and warned, “Keep me posted.”
    Once Eileen had put Dodgy to bed, she joined Trixie and Honey in the telling of the Dodge story. At one point, she flushed and said, “I hope I won’t inconvenience you, Mrs. Belden. I just realized that I’ve invited myself to your home.”
    “No, Mrs. Dodge,” Honey interrupted, “I was the one who invited you, so really I should insist on taking you home to Manor House.”
    “Call me Eileen,” Mrs. Dodge urged.
    “Thank you, Honey,” Mrs. Belden said, “but I’m sure we can make Eileen and Dodgy comfortable here. Now that Dodgy has been found, I’m sure it won’t be long until Davy is back, safe and sound.”
    By the time the lights were turned out at Crabapple Farm and Trixie was in her own bed, with Di sleeping in the matching twin bed, she knew just how the sergeant felt. It had been a long, hard day. She, too, was tired, yet still so wound up that sleep would not come to her immediately.
    She recalled the hopelessness she had felt twenty-four hours before, when she had realized that finding the baby’s parents would involve sifting multitudes of people through a screen. One day later, because of the love and concern of total strangers, that baby had a name and a mother to guard him. And, wonder of wonders, she and Honey were to work with the sergeant in the all-out search for the baby’s brother.
    Trixie’s mind gnawed impatiently at the problem. Because of the total upset at the Dodge farm, it would be difficult to conduct the search from that end of Davy’s trail. Anyway, she didn’t fool herself into thinking that she could walk in and find clues that Davy’s own parents had missed.
    Logically, therefore, she must begin her search right here at the farm. So far, all indications were that whoever had left Dodgy in the doghouse had ridden a horse. Well, Davy had owned a pony. His parents weren’t sure if Wicky had been auctioned, but surely that could be checked. Yawning, Trixie decided that her first step was to ask her father how an auction was conducted. He’d know.
    Just on the verge of sleep, Trixie roused herself to whisper, “Regan!” Regan would know if that horseshoe she’d found matched whatever Davy’s pony turned out to be. Of course, kidnappers could be holding both the boy and his horse, but Trixie refused to let herself dwell on that possibility.
    She felt goose bumps rise on her skin as she recalled placing Dodgy in his mother’s anus. Jeepers, if only she could do the same for his brother. Oh, happy day .....
    She had to work carefully. A criminal might just be waiting for someone to make a mistake. Trixie sighed heavily, aware of the burden of responsibility she bore. As she dozed off, she heard Reddy bark once. Poor clog, she thought. He still hasn’t recovered from the invasion of his property....
    The following morning, as Trixie and Di got dressed, Di bubbled with excitement. She had waked at two o’clock to help Eileen with Dodgy’s care. “She didn’t know her way around your kitchen, but I did,” Di said. Anxiously she added, “Do you suppose she managed the six o’clock feeding by herself?”
    “She’s the baby’s mother, silly. After all, she’s used to running a farmhouse while taking care of two children and a husband.”
    “True,” Di agreed. “But that was in her house, not this one.”
    “What’s the matter with this house?” Trixie retorted. “Moms has raised four kids here!”
    “I love your house,” Di began