The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

said, frowning. “I’d already caught ’em when Brian came to help me. You should’ve waited. I’ve just finished telling Brian so.”
    Brian chuckled. “I’ve had a lecture about it all the way here.” He glanced quickly at the newspaper in Trixie’s hand. “Hey, was that the surprise? Is your article there, Mart?”
    “No,” Mart answered hurriedly. “The journalism teacher turned it down flat.”
    “You could’ve at least told us, Mart,” Trixie said reproachfully.
    Mart was suddenly on the defensive. “For crying out loud!” he exclaimed. “How was I supposed to know you’d make such a big fuss over a dumb school assignment? It’s no big deal, I tell you. Mr. Zimmerman just didn’t like it. That’s all! Forget that I even mentioned it.”
    Tactfully, Jim tried to change the subject. He nodded toward the cars that were crowded around them. “It sure looks like a lot of kids showed up this morning,” he said.
    Dan grinned. “Maybe someone,” he nodded toward Trixie, “didn’t have to volunteer our services today, after all.”
    Trixie didn’t answer until the Bob-Whites were halfway across the lunch court. “There may be a lot of volunteers,” she said, “but no one seems to be volunteering much energy.” She pointed at the overflowing trash cans. “I wonder why someone hasn’t thought of emptying those. Where is everyone, anyway?”
    Puzzled, the Bob-Whites stared around them. The day before, many students had taken advantage of the unseasonably warm weather to eat outdoors, and the lunch court was still littered with the debris of the previous day’s lunch period. The court was deserted, however; no one seemed interested in cleaning up the area.
    Suddenly, Honey gripped Trixie’s arm. “I think something’s going on in front of the administration office,” she exclaimed.
    “You’re right,” Jim answered, breaking into a run. “Come on, you guys! Maybe the office is passing out free doughnuts or something.”
    But in another moment, when the Bob-Whites turned the corner, they found that Jim couldn’t have been more wrong.
    A crowd of excited students was gathered in front of the school’s office. Outside the door, Mr. Stratton, the principal, appeared to be deep in conversation with two of his teachers, who suddenly turned and hurried away.
    “What is it?” Honey asked. “What’s going on?” Trixie stared at the broken window that gaped blackly against the school’s dim interior. “I think someone’s thrown a baseball—” she began.
    But Brian was shaking his head. “It’s more than a broken window, Trixie,” he said, pointing. “Take a look at that!”
    Trixie gasped as she gazed at the face of the building. Scrawled across it, in huge spray-painted black letters, were the words:

    THE MIDNIGHT MARAUDER WAS HERE!

    She heard one of the students say, “And that’s not all! Mr. Stratton says this Midnight Marauder broke into the office and stole a load of cash!”
    “But who is the Midnight Marauder?” someone else asked.
    A sudden movement beside her made Trixie turn her head sharply. She was just in time to see Mart stiffen and stand as if frozen to the spot. He was staring up at the black painted letters—and his face was white to the lips.

Mart in Trouble ● 4

    BEFORE TRIXIE had time to ask Mart what was wrong, Mr. Stratton had turned to face the crowd and was holding up his hand for silence.
    “Students,” he began, “I know you’re all just as shocked as I am by what has happened.”
    There was a murmur of agreement from his listeners.
    “As you can see,” Mr. Stratton continued, “a vandal has broken into the school.” His lips tightened. “Extensive damage has been done to my office, and a sum of money has been stolen from my desk.”
    “How much money, Mr. Stratton?” someone in the crowd of students called out.
    The principal sighed. “As far as we can figure it at the moment,” he said, “there wasn’t that much money to steal. Only about ten dollars was taken, we think.”
    Dan thrust his hands angrily into the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t care if it’s ten dollars or ten thousand dollars,” he said in an undertone to Trixie. “The school should send for the police at once.”
    “I’m sure they have,” Trixie whispered back. “I’ll bet they called as soon as they found out what had happened. But who could’ve done something like this?”
    It was almost as if Mr. Stratton had heard her. “We haven’t yet