The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

Trix,” she said. “Don’t be angry with us. Everything’ll turn out all right, you’ll see. The storm is making you upset.”
    “I’m not angry,” Trixie answered, trying to smile. “I understand how you and Jim feel.” She sighed. “I guess if I’d been the one to receive the letter, I’d feel the same way. You’re right, Honey. The storm is making me feel uncomfortable.” Honey looked relieved. “In that case, why don’t you get out of those wet things?” she suggested. “You left a pair of your jeans here last time you spent the night. And you can borrow one of my blouses. How’s that?”
    Both Trixie and Honey had showered and changed by the time Jim returned. He knocked on the door and stuck his red head into the room. “You can relax, Trix,” he said slowly. “It looks as if you’re getting your own way, after all.”
    Trixie had been busy toweling her hair dry. Now she looked up, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean,” Jim replied, “that the telephone lines have been knocked out by the storm. I can’t get through to the police.”
    Honey paused with her hair brush in her hand. “But that means—”
    Jim nodded. “It means that we’re cut off from everyone, Honey. The storm outside is even worse than it was before. We’re going to have to deal with the Midnight Marauder alone!”
    Several times during the course of that evening, Trixie realized that things weren’t turning out exactly the way she had imagined they would. She had hoped that the other Bob-Whites would be there to help them, and she and Jim had made several attempts to phone them. But it was no use.
    Outside, the wind and the rain combined to thwart any ideas they might have had of running to anyone for help.
    Several times, Trixie had run to the front door and opened it just a little way. She had gazed across the verandah of the big house and tried to peer through the driving rain. She wanted to see if, by some miracle, her brothers had sensed that they were needed up there on the hill. But they hadn’t.
    Neither had Di nor Dan.
    Each time, Trixie had returned to the large living room, where Honey and Jim had gazed at her questioningly. And each time, Trixie shook her head.
    Jim had made one more unsuccessful trip to the dead telephone, when Trixie burst out, “Oh, let’s face it! No one’s going to come and help us. We’re just going to have to watch out for the Midnight Marauder by ourselves.”
    “But there’re only three of us!” Honey wailed.
    “There’re four—if we also tell Celia,” Jim said, nodding in the general direction of the kitchen, “or more than that, if we tell the other servants.”
    Thus far, the three friends had instinctively kept their worries to themselves for fear of frightening the staff. Now, however, they discussed the problem, wondering what was best to do. Finally, they decided to keep the news to themselves.
    “There’s no way Celia can leave the Manor House tonight,” Jim pointed out. “It might be different if she were sleeping alone in the trailer. But with Tom still away with Mom and Dad, she was planning on sleeping here tonight, anyway—”
    Honey nodded. “You’re right, Jim. Let’s not tell anyone.”
    Trixie sighed and thought of the neat red trailer, the Robin, which Mr. Lynch had once given to Trixie and Mart but which now belonged to Celia and Tom.
    The Robin, which had once been the scene of yet another of Trixie’s mysteries, was now parked in a clearing in the woods behind the Wheeler stables.
    Honey must have been thinking of the Robin, too. She smiled at Trixie and said, “I think Celia’s lucky to have such a nice place to live, though that trailer could be parked a million miles away from here, for all the good it’d do Celia tonight. She’d never reach it in this storm.”
    “And I’ll never reach the horses, either,” Jim said, frowning. “I hope they’re okay.”
    Trixie listened to the rain as it beat against the windows. “I’m sure the horses are fine, Jim,” she said, with more conviction than she felt.
    “In any case,” Honey put in, “there’s not much we can do about it, anyway.” She sighed. “Could someone decide how we’re going to catch the Midnight Marauder if he comes?”
    The three put their heads together and made plans. For the sake of the servants, Jim suggested that they should pretend to go to bed. They would stay in their rooms until the house was quiet and then creep downstairs again and