The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

a feeling—”
    Brian groaned. “Not another feeling!”
    Trixie nodded. “I keep on thinking about it, Brian,” she said, “though I don’t know why. We passed that trail this morning, when we were in your car, and I thought then—that is, I think I thought—that is—”
    Jim held up his hand and grinned at her. “Okay,” he said. “Say no more. If you think you thought, that’s fine with me. We’ve already wasted enough time talking. Harrison’s Trail it is.” He glanced around at the others. “If Trixie’s got a hunch about it, chances are she’s right. I’ve learned never to ignore her hunches!”
    As they moved off once more, Honey leaned across to her friend. “Have you really got a hunch about this, Trix? Did you think you saw something? If so, what was it?”
    “I don’t know, honest!” Trixie replied. “But we’ve got to start somewhere. And, oh, Honey! Just think! Suppose I’m right.”
    On the other hand , a little voice said from somewhere deep inside her, you could just as easily be wrong.
    But Trixie tried not to listen to it.

    Five minutes later, Trixie had dismounted and was bending over the lower branches of a thorn bush. It grew by the side of the road and marked the entrance to the path that, she knew, led eventually through the woods to Sleepyside Hollow. Today, however, she wasn’t even thinking about the events that had happened there, when the Bob-Whites had been trying to solve one of their puzzling mysteries.
    Now her whole attention was centered on the long, chestnut brown tufts of hair that were tangled in the thorns likg alien blossoms.
    Gently, she disengaged several bright strands. Then she looked up at her friends waiting silently on their horses. “The hair belongs to Reddy,” she said at last. “I’m sure of it.”
    Mart let out his breath in one long sigh. “Jeepers!” he exclaimed. “But how on earth did you manage to spot it from a moving car?”
    “I was just wondering the same thing,” Brian said, staring at Trixie as if he’d never seen her before.
    In spite of her worry, Trixie managed a weak grin. “I don’t know how I saw it,” she answered. “In fact, I didn’t even realize I had.”
    “Maybe her cranium—or the brains inside it— aren’t so pea-sized after all,” Mart said, teasing.
    “I still don’t understand,” Di said, frowning. “What have those hairs got to do with anything?“
    “I think,” Trixie answered, “that they have to mean that Reddy came this way last night.”
    “Or this morning,” Brian put in. “Maybe he came by here today.”
    “Whenever he came,” Trixie said, “somehow he must’ve scraped himself against this bush.” She stared off into the woods. “But then where did he go?”
    Suddenly Jupiter moved restlessly, eager to be on the move again. Jim held him firmly. “I’d suggest,” he said, “that we split up in pairs and comb the woods.”
    “Good idea,” Brian agreed, “but let’s not forget our promise to Regan to look out for the horses.”
    “Who goes where,” Jim asked, “and how shall we keep in touch?”
    It didn’t take long to decide. Brian and Mart chose to search the area to the west. Jim and Di wanted to search the area to the north, which would eventually lead them to Sleepyside Hollow.
    “And that leaves the east for us, Honey,” Trixie said. “If anyone finds anything, we can give the Bob-White signal to summon the others.” She pursed her mouth, and in another instant, she was sounding the Bob-Whites’ secret signal. Bob , bob-white. Bob , bob-white.
    Trixie’s hopes were high as she and Honey turned their horses toward the area they were going to search, and for the next fifteen minutes, she and Honey were silent. Carefully, they watched the trail ahead of them, always mindful of the horses’ safety. They also watched for any further signs of Reddy’s progress. But if there had ever been any, the rain seemed to have erased them.
    Soon they were in a part of the Wheelers’ game preserve that Trixie had never seen before. Dark, damp trails crossed and recrossed each other. Many ended in a tangle of underbrush. Above their heads, tall trees stretched upward to gray clouds, which seemed to be gathering once more.
    “I don’t know how I could have been so wrong about the weather,” Trixie muttered, leaning forward to pat Susie’s neck. “I thought it was going to be a beautiful day. Now look at it! If it rains again, old girl, both you and I are