The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

suddenly nervous.
    “I’m looking for the caretaker’s office,” the man answered in an unfriendly tone.
    “Oh.” Trixie forced herself to smile. “That’s it down there, at the end of the hall, but Mr. Johnson isn’t in now. He’s outside—”
    “Thanks,” the man interrupted. He turned and started down the stairs.
    “Mr. Johnson is right out in the common,” Trixie said helpfully.
    “I’ll talk to him later,” the man called back, already at the bottom of the stairs.
    “Jeepers!” Trixie scratched her head. “I wonder who that was.” She turned to look at the closed door through which the man had come. The door was unmarked.
    Twisting the knob, Trixie opened the door and poked her head inside. The small square room was dirty and completely empty, except for a narrow steel ladder bolted to the floor in the middle of the room. The ladder went up to a hatch set in the high ceiling.
    Curious, Trixie started to climb, counting each rung as she went. After thirteen rungs, her head was pressed against the hatch. Hooking one arm around the top rung, Trixie cautiously pushed the hatch open. She smelled fresh air.
    “This is the belfry!” Trixie exclaimed aloud. She stretched her neck to look around the empty tower, noticing the worn wooden floor, the low arched openings, and the weathered ceiling with another hatch that led up into the cupola. “It isn’t much bigger than Bobby’s tree house,” Trixie muttered. Then she gasped. “And come to think of it, I think that man was the same one I saw from the tree house!”

Bad News • 9

    TRIXIE FOUND the other Bob-Whites waiting impatiently in tie station wagon.
    “Where have you been?” Mart demanded. “Clambering capriciously in the cupola?”
    “As a matter of fact,” Trixie said, sliding in beside him, “I was almost in the cupola. I climbed up to the belfry to have a look around.”
    “What!” Brian exclaimed.
    “Trixie!” Honey gasped. “How did you—”
    “On the ladder,” Trixie said casually. “After the man asked me where Mr. Johnson s office was.”
    “Wait a minute, now,” Jim ordered. He turned the station wagon onto the street and headed toward Crabapple Farm. “Okay, Trixie,” he said, “how about starting at the beginning?”
    Trixie told about seeing the man come out of the second-floor room. “He said he was looking for Mr. Johnson s office, and I told him that Mr. Johnson was standing right outside the building,” she said. “There wasn’t any sign on the door where he came out, so I just sort of looked inside.”
    “And?” Brian prompted.
    “There wasn’t anything in the room except a ladder up to the ceiling,” Trixie said.
    “And so you climbed it,” Mart deduced. “Real smart. If the only thing in the room had been an open window, would you have defenestrated yourself?”
    “De-what-a-strated?” Trixie asked.
    “I think he means jumped out,” Brian offered. “Oh,” Trixie said. “No, silly,” she told Mart. “I was just curious about where the ladder went, since that man had just come out of the room.”
    “And the ladder went up to the belfry,” Jim said. “That’s right,” Trixie confirmed. “So, what was that man doing up there?”
    “Elementary, my dear Beatrix,” Mart said. “Mr. Johnson said he had some papers for a roofing contractor. That was the contractor, up looking at the roof. Case closed.”
    “Mart’s right,” Honey agreed.
    “I’m not so sure,” Trixie muttered.
    Brian glanced at his watch. “We wont have time for our meeting now,” he said gloomily. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. With Hoppy gone, there’s no reason to have a walk-a-thon. So we won’t be on the radio, after all.”
    “At least for the time being,” Trixie said with forced cheerfulness. “We can all hope that Hoppy will be found soon. If he is found, he could be recoppered before they put him back up on top of Town Hall.”
    “If he’s found,” Brian repeated as Jim pulled into the driveway at Crabapple Farm.
    When Trixie, Brian, and Mart entered the kitchen, Bobby was singing “Meet me in St. Loooey, Looey” in a high, squeaky voice.
    Brian and Mart were headed for the hall to hang up their jackets, and Trixie took hers off and handed it to Mart. “I’m sorry were late again, Moms,” she said.
    “Meet me at the FAIRRR,” Bobby sang at the top of his lungs as he placed napkins at each place around the table.
    “Who taught Bobby that old song?” Trixie asked. Mrs.