The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

directly ahead of her. She saw only the bright spot of color that she, and Mr. Lytell before her, had mistaken for the Beldens’ Irish setter.
    “What is it?” Brian asked.
    Trixie ran forward and plucked the red scrap of material from its resting place. Now that she had it in her hand, she could tell that this wasn’t anything like the color of Reddy’s golden chestnut coat.
    What she had seen had been an optical illusion—a trick that the golden sunlight had played on her eyes, and on Mr. Lytell’s, too.
    Brian frowned. “You know, Trix, that piece of material looks just as if it came from a man’s red flannel shirt.”
    Wordlessly, Trixie nodded her agreement.
    “But what does it mean?” Brian asked.
    All at once, Trixie had to blink back the hot tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. “It means,” she said, choking back a sob, “that we haven’t found Reddy, after all. Oh, Brian, where can he be?”

Worries for Trixie ● 2

    TEN MINUTES LATER, even Trixie had to admit that it was useless to search any farther.
    Ahead, the woods stretched dense and still, while the trail they had been following ended suddenly in a dark tangle of underbrush.
    “It’s no good, Brian,” Trixie said hopelessly. “Reddy could be anywhere.”
    Brian, who had come this far only at her insistence, ran his hand through his dark, wavy hair and frowned. “You know, Trix,” he said, “I’ve been thinking. We’re going at this all wrong. What we need is a search party and horses—”
    “—and Bob-Whites!” Trixie exclaimed.
    “Oh, Brian, you’re right! D’you think that the others would come and help?” she added.
    Brian grinned at her. “You know they will. I still think you’re worrying about nothing, but I can see none of us are going to get any peace till we find that dog.”
    He turned and began leading the way back along the trail.
    Trixie hurried to catch up with him. “But what about the work we’re supposed to do at school? Everyone knows the Bob-Whites volunteered—”
    Brian chuckled. “I doubt we’ll get yelled at if we’re late. More likely, no one will notice our absence at all. We’re just going to have to put first things first this morning. So first, we’ll find Reddy. Then, if there’s time, we’ll drive to school to help out.”
    “Great!” Trixie breathed, her eyes shining. “We’ll go home now. And if the Bob-Whites aren’t there—”
    “We’ll call them and tell them to meet us at the Wheelers’ stable,” Brian finished for her. “We’ll explain everything to Regan. He’ll be glad we’re going to exercise the horses. Then we’ll form a posse and search for Reddy till we find him. How’s that, podner?”
    He needn’t have asked. A moment later, his sister, her blond curls bouncing with excitement, had raced past him to the car.
    By the time he reached the car, she was already seated inside it, waiting impatiently.
    She watched him put the key in the ignition and sighed happily. “Now all we need to do,” she remarked, “is to find out what’s wrong with Mart.”
    Brian didn’t answer until they were well on their way home. Trixie guessed that he was wondering if Mart was sick.
    Brian was constantly concerned with the wellbeing of everyone. The Bob-Whites knew that one day, when Jim Frayne, who had inherited a fortune, opened his school for homeless boys, Brian hoped to become its doctor.
    “I think,” Brian said at last, “the only thing wrong with Mart is that he’s tired. He’s got a history test coming up at school, he’s worried about that journalism class he’s taking this semester, and he was out late last night.”
    Trixie was surprised. “He was? Where did he go?”
    Brian shrugged. “I didn’t ask. Maybe he went to visit Di, or maybe he wanted to study with Jim.”
    Trixie sat quietly, thinking over what Brian had told her. She was also pondering Mart’s recent behavior.
    She frowned as she remembered how absent-minded he’d been lately. He forgot to pass on even the simplest of messages. Often he seemed to be lost in thoughts of his own. Strangest of all, he’d lost his appetite.
    It was this that worried Trixie most of all. Mart had never before lost his appetite over anything. He was always hungry—or had been until a few days ago.
    “You know what, Brian?” Trixie said at last. She stared with unseeing eyes at the familiar landscape flying past them. “I think Mart’s got something on his mind—something that’s