The Mystery of the Headless Horseman

could see that he and Trixie had been born at the same time.
    “If you’re so smart, Sherlock,” he growled, “then maybe you’d better look into your crystal ball, or whatever it is you do, and find out what’s keeping the others.” With that, he withdrew his head from the open window, slouched back in his seat, and pretended to go to sleep.
    Mart’s words should have made Trixie feel more uneasy than ever. Instead, she felt happier than she had all day. She and Mart were really very fond of each other. She knew that if ever there was any kind of trouble, she could rely on Mart to help solve it.
    As she and Honey clambered onto the bus and plopped down in the seat behind him, Trixie whispered, “Forget my feelings of gloom and doom, Honey. Nothing’s going to happen to our arrangements for the charity bazaar tomorrow. I expect I’m just being silly. Everything’s going to be great. And anyway, the other Bob-Whites will see to it that this is a successful fund-raiser for UNICEF.”
    “The other Bob-Whites,” besides Trixie, Honey, and Mart, meant Diana Lynch, who was the same age as Trixie and Honey and was considered one of the prettiest girls in the ninth grade; Trixie’s eldest brother, Brian; Honey’s adopted brother, Jim; and Dan Mangan. Dan, Mart, Brian, and Jim were all students at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School.
    Not long ago, the seven teen-agers had formed their own special club and called it the Bob-Whites of the Glen, B.W.G.’s for short. The club was not for fun alone. Its members were there to help the community, as well as each other, and they had worked hard to make their small, close-knit group a real success.
    Honey glanced around the bus. “I wonder what is keeping the others? Oh, it’s all right. I can see the boys coming. But where’s Di? She should be here by now. Maybe there’s something to that hunch of yours, after all, Trix.”
    “I told you,” Trixie answered, “I’m sure I was just being silly. Forget it.”
    “I don’t think your hunches are ever silly,” Honey said. “In fact, I’ve often wondered if you’re one of those people who have ESP—you know, extrasensory perception. Remember the time when you were the first to realize that Di’s ‘Uncle’ Monty was not her real uncle at all? Why, even the Lynches’ butler was fooled. You know, I don’t think old prim-and-proper Harrison ever recovered from the shock.” She laughed at the memory of it.
    Trixie chuckled, though her face was flushed with embarrassment. “Let’s not forget that Harrison is over it enough to volunteer to supervise all the arrangements for tomorrow. With Di’s parents away in Arizona, I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
    “He even offered to help Di’s cook make all the mountains of sandwiches and cookies we’re going to need in the refreshment tent,” Honey added.
    “Harrison has turned out to be a real good sport. I have to admit that I never thought he would.”
    “Maybe that was one time when your ESP wasn’t working,” Honey said, smiling.
    “But I don’t think I have ESP,” Trixie protested, her face reddening again. “At least, I don’t have it any more than anyone else. I think we all notice little details without noticing that we’re noticing—if you know what I mean.”
    “I’m not sure I do,” Honey giggled, “but go on. What happens then?”
    “Then, all at once, the little details add up until— click!— you’ve suddenly got the whole picture in your head, and the entire thing fits together like a jigsaw puzzle.”
    “Like what, for instance?”
    Trixie said slowly, “For instance, when Di got on the bus this morning, she sat in a seat all by herself and stared out of the window.”
    “So?”
    “And when we were talking about how kind it was of her parents to allow us to hold the entire bazaar on the Lynch estate, Di didn’t join in the conversation.”
    Honey gasped. “And this morning when I stopped to talk to her, she mumbled something about being late for a class, even though I knew she wasn’t.”
    Mart’s freckled face appeared slowly above the back of his bus seat. “You know, squaws, for once I think the convolutions of your respective minds might be onto something. I’ve been trying to catch Di to ask her about the ring toss booth, but she’s been avoiding me all day. I thought I’d done something to upset her. If you ask me, there’s something rotten in the state of Denmark! What can it be?”
    The