The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

them.
    “You’ll have to give the meat back,” Brian said at last, the stern note back in his voice.
    Lester nodded and hung his head. “I know that now,” he answered. “I guess I wasn’t thinking straight last night. I didn’t know that all that hamburger had been stolen in the first place. I thought it was someone from Wimpy’s driving the truck that almost knocked me down, you see. I didn’t find out till I got to school this morning—I mean, yesterday morning—that there was any such person as the Midnight Marauder.”
    “You still haven’t explained what you were doing hanging around here tonight,” Mart reminded him.
    Lester explained. He said he’d returned to Glen Road on his bicycle, soon after the storm had ceased. He said he felt his legs needed the exercise. But Trixie had the sudden hunch that he had had something else in mind.
    “Why, Lester,” she said, staring at him, “I believe you came here to do some investigating of your own. Did you feel that Mart wasn’t guilty of anything? Did you want to help him?”
    Lester nodded, looking embarrassed.
    “Well, I think that’s nice!” Honey exclaimed.
    Lester then told them that he saw a dark figure running down the Wheelers’ driveway. The person, whoever it was, had stopped at the unexpected sight of Lester on his bicycle. Then, in the next instant, the mysterious figure had run into the woods on the other side of the road.
    “If that’s true,” Trixie said, thinking hard, “then you must have got a good look at whoever it was.”
    Lester shrugged. “I did, but I still don’t know who it was. The person was wearing jeans, a red flannel shirt, and a ski mask. After he’d gone, I got curious. I left my bike by the side of the road here, and I went to find out what he’d been up to.” He was quiet for a moment. “You know what I found. Then I heard you all coming, so I hid, in case you’d think I’d done that damage to the trailer. But I didn’t! Now will you call off your dog?”
    “But we don’t have to,” Honey told him gently. “Reddy got bored long ago. He’s gone to sleep, see?” She pointed.
    Reddy, who had collapsed on the wet ground, had returned to his favorite position. His chin was resting snugly on his forepaws, and he was snoring.
    Lester’s jaw dropped. “Then I could have run away from you, after all?”
    Trixie nodded absently. She was busy thinking of something else. “Why were you buying black paint this morning?” she asked suddenly.
    Lester looked embarrassed. “I thought I’d help out with some of the signs at school that need painting—the posters for the spring dance, I mean. I—I guess you could say I’m about to turn over a new leaf. No more jokes.” He sounded almost shy about it. “I’m going to try to make more friends from now on. Ruthie Kettner is, too. She’s going to help.”
    Honey gasped. “So that was why she was buying a paintbrush at Crimper’s!”
    Lester nodded. “We’ve got some of the other kids to help, too. This afternoon we sort of formed a club. We’re calling ourselves the Third Hand Gang. We thought if anyone was in need of an extra hand for anything, we’d provide it.”
    Trixie stared at Lester as he climbed onto his bike. She still had the feeling he wasn’t telling everything he knew.
    “Who else is in your club?” she asked slowly. Lester grinned. “There’s me, there’s Ruthie, there’s Marvin Easton and Shrimpy Davis—I suppose we could have called our club the Desperadoes. We’ve all been desperate, you see. No friends, no nothing!”
    “But all that’s changed now?” Honey asked.
    “I hope so,” Lester answered, and with a wave of his hand, he was gone.
    “I don’t believe it!” Mart said, staring after him. “He made it sound as if that Lonelyheart column really helped a lot of lonely people.”
    “Maybe it did,” Brian replied. “Doesn’t that make you feel better?”
    “It might, if it weren’t for one thing,” Mart answered slowly.
    “What’s that?” Jim asked.
    “I don’t know if you realize it,” Mart said, “but we seem to have lost all our suspects.”
    Trixie shivered as they walked back up the hill. The air was cold, and suddenly she felt very tired and sleepy. Worst of all, she realized that Mart was right. Where would they look now that they had lost all of their suspects?
    So who was the Midnight Marauder?

A New Clue? ● 13

    BY THE TIME the long night was over, Trixie was so tired that she felt