The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

found out who’s responsible,” he said grimly, “but you can be sure there’s going to be an extensive investigation. Of course, the police have been called—”
    “I knew it,” Trixie remarked, nodding her head in approval.
    “But in the meantime,” Mr. Stratton continued, “if anyone here can shed any light on what’s happened, I’ll be in my office.”
    To Trixie’s astonishmeht, she felt Mart move from her side, as if involuntarily. He took a step forward, and half raised his hand, almost as if he were going to say something. Then, in a moment, his hand dropped to his side, and he remained silent.
    Puzzled, Trixie frowned.
    Mr. Stratton hesitated, half turned away, then turned back to face the students once more. “I want to thank all of you for showing up this morning,” he added. “Please stay away from the area where I’m standing. The police will want to examine it. But if you still feel like continuing with the cleanup job on the rest of the grounds, your help will be appreciated.”
    The students watched in silence as the door of the administration building closed behind him. Then they began to wander away, talking in undertones to each other.
    “So that’s that,” Brian said. “What a rotten thing to happen.”
    “But now we’re here,” Jim said, “what d’you say we get to work?”
    Honey sighed. “You’re right, Jim. How about starting on the lunch court?”
    Mart stared thoughtfully toward a group of his classmates who, armed with brooms and rakes, were beginning to clear the grassy area close to the school bus stop.
    “Listen,” he said suddenly, “can you guys manage without me for a few minutes? I need to talk to someone over there.” Without waiting for an answer, Mart hurried away.
    A moment later, Trixie saw him talking earnestly to a tall, dark-haired boy who didn’t seem to like what Mart was saying. Trixie saw the boy scowl and shake his head.
    “Who is that?” Di said in her ear.
    “I was just wondering the same thing,” Trixie answered slowly, still watching the two boys.
    “His name is Lester Mundy,” Dan said shortly. “I think the kid’s in Mart’s math class.”
    Trixie looked at him. “It doesn’t sound as if you like him much.”
    “He’s the class clown,” Brian explained. “He’s also a renowned practical joker.”
    “Like Ben Riker?” Trixie asked, then wished she hadn’t. She glanced quickly at Honey to see if she had been listening.
    Honey had. She laughed and squeezed Trixie’s arm. “No one’s as good a practical joker as Ben Riker, Trix,” she said, “though sometimes I think Lester comes pretty close.”
    Trixie sighed as she remembered Honey’s cousin. She had never thought Ben Riker’s practical jokes were funny. Ben did dumb things like putting sugar into salt shakers and salt into sugar bowls.
    Once, during one of the Bob-White’s early adventures, Trixie had pretended to like Ben a lot, even though everyone knew she liked Jim best.
    Trixie could feel her face growing hot just thinking about it. “If Lester’s jokes are anything like Ben’s,” she said hurriedly, “then I hope Mart knows what he’s doing.”
    Jim chuckled as he led the way to the supply room. “I hope he does, too. If not, he’s likely to find a frog in his locker—”
    “Or spiders in his gym shoes,” Brian added quickly, pulling open the door and ushering his friends inside.
    Di gasped in horror and stared around at the room’s dark shelves. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand it was spiders. The Bob-Whites could still remember the time when her phony uncle had tried to frighten her with one.
    “You—you don’t suppose Lester will try anything like that on us, do you?” Di said at last, her voice shaking.
    “We’ll see that he doesn’t,” Brian promised, and handed her a broom.
    Di looked at it carefully before she took it from him. Trixie could see that she was apprehensive.
    “Maybe Lester does silly things to try and get attention,” kindhearted Honey said slowly. “Maybe he’s lonely.”
    Dan grunted. “Then I’ve got news for him,” he said as he passed out large plastic trash bags to each of his friends. “He’s making a big mistake.”
    “Maybe he is,” Honey answered, “but—oh, don’t you see? We Bob-Whites are never lonely. We’ve all got each other. But some of the kids at school always seem to be left out of everything. It’s as if no one knows they’re even alive. Take Ruthie Kettner, for