The Mystery of the Headless Horseman

again!” Dan exclaimed.
    Then, suddenly, there was a hurried movement behind them. They caught a quick glimpse of a tall figure wearing a derby hat.
    The barn door slammed shut. They heard the sounds of a heavy bar being slid across it.
    “That was Harrison!” Di cried. “Oh, what’ll we do? We’re trapped!”
    The boys wasted precious minutes trying to break down the door. They were not successful.
    “It’s no good,” Brian said. “That door’s stronger than it looks. Now what?”
    “We could yell for help,” Mart suggested. “Who would hear us way out here?” Honey said. “We could be stuck here till next Christmas. What do you think, Trix?”
    But Trixie, it seemed, was thinking of something else. “The whole thing just doesn’t make sense,” she muttered. “Why didn’t he search the house when he had the chance? Of course, it did smell of perfume. Then there’s that missing raincoat. I wonder—” She stopped, frowning. “I don’t remember Reddy coming in here with us.”
    “He didn’t,” Honey answered. “We left him outside with the horses.”
    Trixie pointed. “Then what’s he doing in here right this minute? Reddy, come!”
    Reddy, who had been busy exploring all the delightful barn smells, turned immediately and bounded away.
    Something creaked open. The Bob-Whites saw daylight as Reddy squeezed himself through a rotting board behind the black horse’s stall.
    “Saved, by George!” Mart said.
    “Be careful as you move behind the horse,” Jim warned, hurrying forward.
    But he had no need to worry. In another moment, all the Bob-Whites were breathing fresh air and blinking in the sunlight.
    “It was elementary, after all,” Mart announced with relief.
    Trixie stood as if turned to stone. Everything clicked inside her mind: the locked cellar door, the house that smelled of lavender, the missing raincoat, the practical joker, the Lien-Ting statue—
    “That’s it!” she cried. “That’s the answer! Oh, don’t you see? We’ve got to get to Sleepyside Hollow right away. We haven’t a moment to lose! I know, at last, exactly where the Ming vase is hidden!”

Triumph! • 18

    NEVER HAD THE BOB-WHITES seen Trixie move so fast. While they were still untying their horses, she was already mounted on Susie’s back and trotting toward the forest path.
    In spite of his sister’s eagerness, Brian soon insisted on taking the lead. “I know the way through these woods better than you,” he said. “Follow me!”
    Brian was right. He led them swiftly to the now-familiar trail, then down into the clearing outside the little house. Without wasting another moment, Trixie jumped from Susie’s back.
    “Quick!” she told Brian. “Hide the horses!”
    She hurried to the front door.
    Mrs. Crandall looked surprised. It was almost as if she’d been expecting someone else. “Oh, my!” she said, wiping her hands on her white apron. “Won’t you all come in? We were just about to have a cool drink and something to eat.”
    Mart’s face fell when Trixie answered, “No, thank you, Mrs. Crandall. But may I please look at your fruit trees?”
    “Fruit trees?” Dan sounded puzzled.
    “I only hope we’re in time,” Trixie said. “I suspect, you see, that he’s found out somehow what the correct clue is. He came to the barn to get his horse this afternoon.”
    Mrs. Crandall gasped. “Are you telling me that you’ve figured out—?”
    “—the long-lost hiding place,” Trixie answered.
    And, hurrying them into the backyard, Trixie walked straight to the old apple tree. The Bob-Whites saw her hand disappear into a deep hole in its gnarled trunk. In another instant, she swung around to face them.
    “I’ve got them!” she breathed and slowly withdrew two bundles. One was small and gaily wrapped in birthday paper. The other—
    “Why, it’s—it’s nothing but a rolled-up old raincoat!” Honey exclaimed.
    “Jonathan’s missing raincoat!” Mrs. Crandall cried.
    “I think you’ll find it’s more than that,” Trixie said, laughing happily. Slowly, carefully, she unrolled it. There in its folds, safe from the weather, was a small wooden box.
    Mart stared. “Is it—?”
    It was. When they were all gathered in the living room, Mrs. Crandall carefully unsnapped a tiny catch and opened the box lid. They could all see the white padded interior. Snuggled cosily in its satin bed was the squat green shape of the priceless vase.
    Behind them, Polly Ward’s voice said,