The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

Trixie stopped as Jim shook his head.
    “He wasn’t with me, either,” he said awkwardly. “Then where was he?” Trixie demanded.
    “Come on, Trix,” Honey said, opening the passenger door of the station wagon. “Climb in and let’s go. We can figure it all out later.”
    In the end, Trixie decided to ride in her brother’s jalopy, while the Bob-Whites’ big car followed them all the way into town.
    As Brian pulled up outside the police station, he said suddenly, “I’m afraid there’s something I haven’t told you, Trix. The school wasn’t the only place that was robbed and vandalized last night. Wimpy’s was, too.”
    Speechless, Trixie stared at him as she thought of one of their favorite eating places—the hamburger parlor that looked like a train’s dining car.
    “Whoever it was,” Brian was saying, “broke in late last night. He stole over a hundred dollars in cash and—are you ready for this?—a whole load of hamburger patties from Wimpy’s freezer.”
    “Hamburger patties?” Trixie slowly echoed in astonishment.
    Brian nodded. “And here’s something that’s really weird. The Midnight Marauder wrote letters both to the school and to Wimpy’s. For some reason, the post office didn’t deliver them till today. But, Trixie, the Marauder’s letters were warnings. He told them beforehand what he was going to do!”

    Trixie was still thinking about these strange events as she and her friends raced into the police station.
    They saw Mart at once. He was sitting dejectedly on a bench against the far wall. Three other boys, none of whom Trixie recognized, were sitting with him.
    Mart jumped to his feet as soon as he saw the Bob-Whites. “You shouldn’t have come,” he exclaimed, hurrying toward them. “There’s nothing you can do. Didn’t Ruthie give you my message?“
    “We haven’t seen Ruthie since you were talking to her a while ago,” Trixie said. “Oh, Mart, are you okay? What’s this all about?”
    Before he could answer, a door opened on the far side of the room, and Sergeant Molinson was beckoning to Mart to follow him.
    Mart hesitated, then swung on his heel and moved away. “I’ll explain later,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t go away. I’ll be through with this in a minute.”
    Trixie was scarcely comforted when, a second later, Sergeant Molinson’s office door banged shut behind him. Somehow, it sounded final, as if they would never see Mart again.
    “Maybe we ought to call Dad and Moms,” Trixie said, on the point of tears. “If Mart’s in trouble, they’d want to know about it.”
    Brian had obviously been thinking the same thing, because he answered at once, “Let’s hold off for a while, Trix. Maybe Mart is right, and he’ll be through in a few minutes.”
    All the same, it was another long, interminable thirty minutes before the door opened once more and Mart came hurrying toward them. He was followed by Sergeant Molinson’s heavy figure.
    “So,” Sergeant Molinson said, when he saw Trixie, “I might have known that Miss Detective Belden would be here
    “But why would you want to question my brother?” Trixie cried hotly. “He doesn’t know anything about what happened at school—or at Wimpy’s, either.”
    “Ah, so you heard about Wimpy’s?” Sergeant Molinson looked at her thoughtfully.
    “She knows only what I’ve just told her,” Brian put in, “and I know only what the school principal told me.”
    Dan frowned. “We’ve just heard about it,” he said, “and it doesn’t make sense.”
    “Not unless a teen-ager’s behind all this,” Sergeant Molinson replied, staring hard at Mart. “We don’t yet have any evidence to arrest anyone, but we’re going to get it. You can count on it.”
    For the second time that morning, Trixie thought her almost-twin was on the point of volunteering some sort of information. Exactly what it was, she couldn’t imagine.
    In the next moment, however, it was obvious that Mart had changed his mind, because all he said was, “Is it okay, then? Can I go?”
    “You can go for now,” Sergeant Molinson answered, turning away, “but don’t go far. I’ll have some questions to ask you later.”
    The Bob-Whites were silent until they were standing on the sidewalk once more.
    Then Trixie burst out, “All right, Mart. Now tell us. What’s going on? What’s worrying you? How could Sergeant Molinson even begin to suspect you of being the Midnight Marauder? Were you on the school