The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

any job openings at Manor House now. What about your family, Di?”
    Di shook her head. “We need a maid,” she said, “but somehow I don’t think Sammy would be interested in that.”
    “Think, everybody,” Trixie ordered. “Let’s make it a club project to find a job for Sammy somewhere in Sleepyside.”
    “Okay,” Jim agreed. “We’ll become regular readers of the want ads.”

    Mrs. Belden was setting the table when Trixie, Brian, and Mart came into the kitchen.
    “Sorry we’re late, Moms,” Trixie said, taking the silverware from her. “Here, I’ll finish that.”
    Mart lifted the lid from a pot on the stove and sniffed. “Ahh,” he said, “satisfaction for my olfaction. What is it, Moms?”
    “It’s braised beef,” his mother told him, “and you put that lid right back on the pot, Mart Belden.” Trixie looked up and wrinkled her nose. “I smell green apple pie, too,” she said with a grin.
    Her mother laughed. “My daughter, the detective,” she said. “And I thought I had that pie well hidden.” Bobby came in from the living room. “Hi, everybody!” he shouted. “What kept you so long, Trixie?”
    Trixie went on folding the napkins and putting them in place. “It’s a long story, Bobby,” she said. “We’ll tell you about it while we eat.”
    During dinner, Trixie and the boys told their parents what had happened that afternoon. “Oh, Moms,” Trixie said with eyes sparkling, “I wish you could have seen Miss Lawler. She’s so happy now that her brother is here.”
    “Sammy really does seem like a nice guy,” Brian said.
    “And he can sure tell a story,” Mart added.
    Trixie grew wistful. “I just hope he can find a job in town,” she said. “It would be so good for Miss Lawler to have him stay. We were hoping that the Wheelers or the Lynches might have something for him, but they don’t.”
    Peter Belden rubbed his chin. “I know where Sammy might find a job,” he said slowly. “I was talking to Mr. Johnson, the Town Hall custodian, in the bank today. He said the town council has authorized him to hire someone to help him. The outside work is getting to be too much for him. He just finished painting the building, but the roof needs work, too, and the weather vane is loose. Maybe Sammy—”
    “Gleeps!” Trixie exclaimed. “Hoppy’s brought Sammy good luck already! I’m sure he’d be just right for the job. We don’t know where Sammy is staying, but I’ll tell Miss Lawler about the job first thing in the morning.”
    Brian looked at Mart. “Maybe we should start saying hello to Hoppy,” he said.
    “I’d rather say hello to another helping of potatoes, please,” Mart replied.

The Walk-a-thon Plan • 5

    TRIXIE BUSHED into the social studies classroom first thing the following morning, tingling with excitement. “Hoppy s brought good luck,” she told Miss Lawler. She explained about Mr. Johnson needing a helper at Town Hall. “I told Dad I was sine that Sammy could do it. Would he like that kind of work?” The teacher’s aide smiled and nodded. “Indeed he would,” she answered. “Sammy is very good at maintenance work—painting, repairing, building. He was always doing something like that at the house. He’s quite skilful.”
    “That’s terrific,” Trixie said. “I made Dad promise to call Mr. Johnson this morning and tell him about Sammy. Could you call Sammy right now, before classes begin, and tell him to go to Town Hall and see Mr. Johnson?”
    The happy expression faded from Miss Lawler’s face. “Sammy isn’t staying with me,” she said. “He’s rented a room somewhere, and he doesn’t have a phone.”
    “Oh,” Trixie said, disappointed.
    “Wait a minute!” Miss Lawler said, opening her purse and searching for something. “He did give me a number to call where I could leave a message for him,” she recalled. “Ah, here it is!”
    “Call right now,” Trixie urged, starting out the door. “I’ll bet he gets the job,” she added confidently.

    That afternoon, as Trixie and Honey entered their social studies class, one look at Miss Lawler’s face told them Trixie had been right.
    As the girls passed her desk, Miss Lawler said, “Sammy got the job, Trixie. Thank you, and please give our thanks to your father, too.”
    Trixie grinned. “I knew Sammy would get the job,” she said. “Now he can stay in Sleepyside.”
    Miss Craven closed the door and crossed to her desk. “Good afternoon, class,” she