The Mystery of the Headless Horseman

investigate. I know nothing about any pebbles and even less about a practical joker. As for my hat, I am sorry to have lost it, but please don’t worry about it.”
    There was an uncomfortable silence.
    Jim shifted on his chair. “We don’t want you to worry, either—about the bazaar, I mean. Miss Trask has very kindly offered to help us, and Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Lynch said it’s okay with them.”
    Harrison relaxed against his pillow. “Ah,” he said, “that’s very good news. Miss Trask is always most efficient. I confess I had been very concerned about this afternoon’s activities.” Trixie leaned toward him. “So we all want you to stay here until you’re really well again,” she said. “I expect your other friends who were here just now told you the same thing.”
    “Friends who were just here?”Harrison stared at her. “I fear you’ve made another mistake, miss. There was no one here this morning. No one at all.”
    Trixie felt bewildered. “But there was a policeman—no, he couldn’t have been a policeman. His uniform was the wrong color. A guard, then. There was a bald-headed guard and a lady wearing a navy blue suit with a white blouse. You remember, Jim?”
    Jim shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone.”
    “Undoubtedly,” Harrison said smoothly, “the people you saw—if, indeed, you saw anyone at all—must have been visiting my neighbor in the room next door.”
    Ten minutes later, Trixie was quiet as she and Jim left the hospital and hurried back to the parking lot.
    Jim nudged her. “Hey, they say that silence is golden, but this is ridiculous! What’s up?”
    “I just don’t understand it!” Trixie strode toward the car. “Harrison was lying to us! Why? And someone did lock him in the cellar, so why does he keep on denying it?”
    Jim shrugged. “I’m sure he’s got some very good reason of his own for not telling us, Trix. And, by the way, he says that the yellow bike is his. I asked him about it when you went to get him a magazine to read.”
    “And I suppose there’s some good explanation for him lying about the bike, too?”
    They had reached the station wagon. Trixie stood and glared at Jim across its shiny top.
    “Now, Trixie,” Jim said, “maybe Harrison isn’t lying about it. He could have bought that bike very recently. Maybe he just hasn’t gotten around to telling anyone about it yet.”
    “Then what about those two visitors who were there this morning? I know they were there. I saw them myself.”
    “But Harrison said they’d been visiting a neighbor in the next room.”
    “Aha!” Trixie shouted triumphantly. “I knew you’d say that. So you know what? I went next door especially to look.”
    “And?”
    “There isn’t any neighbor for anyone to visit. The room next door is empty!”

    They were just pulling out of the hospital parking lot, when Trixie saw a small white Volkswagen turning into it.
    Its driver didn’t stop. Instead, she waved a cheery hand and called, “Good luck with the bazaar, Trixie!”
    “Thank you,” Trixie called back, “and thank you for all your help.”
    “You’re welcome,” Jim said absently, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
    “Not you, Jim—Mrs. Crandall. We just passed her.”
    “Oh? I didn’t see her.”
    All at once, Trixie felt angry. “Oh, Jim!’’ she cried. “Don’t you ever notice anything?”
    Jim glanced at her quickly. “I notice more than you think, Trix. I’ve noticed that you’re upset because you suspect that an adult you trust is lying. You’re upset because you suspect that Di, for some reason, will be angry with you. And you’re also upset because you’ve just caught sight of that poster advertising the presence of a circus not ten miles away.”
    Trixie stared at him. “What circus? What poster? Jim, what are you talking about?”
    Jim pulled to the side of the road and pointed. “That circus, there,” he said. “Oh, Trixie, don’t you ever notice anything?”
    Stunned, Trixie stared up at the biggest billboard she had ever seen. In huge letters, it screamed its message to the residents of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson:

    CIRCUS TODAY IN TARRYTOWN!
    FIRST PERFORMANCE—2:00 P.M.
    LIONS! TIGERS! ELEPHANTS!
    COME ONE, COME ALL!

    “Oh, Jim,” Trixie whispered, “what will this do to our bazaar?”

Disappointment! • 12

    TRIXIE’S QUESTION was answered only too soon. At one o’clock, there was a steady stream of cars driving up the sunny hill to the bazaar grounds.