The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

we do?” Honey asked.
    Trixie shrugged. “I still wish I could figure out if there was a way to steal the weather vane from the top of the cupola,” she said.
    Honey frowned. “Me, too. Someone would have to be able to fly in order to—”
    “Honey! That’s it!” Trixie exclaimed. “A helicopter! That’s what they used to steal Hoppy. It would be easy for a helicopter to hover over the roof and hook the weather vane with a rope.”
    “I don’t know...” Honey began hesitantly.
    “And what’s more,” Trixie rushed on, “we saw the helicopter! Remember the night we were showing Hoppy to Miss Lawler and that helicopter came down so low?”
    “But Hoppy wasn’t stolen that night,” Honey objected.
    “Of course not,” Trixie said. “They couldn’t steal Hoppy while we were there watching them. They were casing Town Hall!”
    “They were what?” Honey asked.
    “Casing the job—looking it over and making plans.” Trixie was flushed with excitement. “Then, when the lights were out on the night of the storm, they came back and stole the weather vane.”
    Trixie started to run ahead. “We’ve got to get to the police station and tell Sergeant Molinson about this,” she called.
    Honey was not as anxious to visit the burly police officer. He didn’t appreciate Trixie and Honey becoming involved in police matters and did not hesitate to tell them so. “Maybe we should wait,” Honey said. “We don’t really know—” But Trixie was already too far ahead to hear. Honey sighed and ran to catch up.
    When they reached the police station, Trixie hurried inside and headed for the sergeant’s desk. “We have important information for you, Sergeant Molinson,” she said breathlessly. “We know how the weather vane was stolen!”
    Sergeant Molinson scowled. “Let me guess. A giant gorilla climbed up the side of Town Hall and—”
    “I’m serious,” Trixie interrupted. “I should have realized it sooner, but Honey and I actually saw the thieves.”
    Sergeant Molinson s jaw dropped. “You saw someone steal the weather vane?” he demanded.
    “No,” Trixie corrected. “We saw them casing the job—from a helicopter!” Trixie went on to tell the sergeant how she and the other Bob-Whites had seen the helicopter hovering over Town Hall.
    The sergeant looked skeptical, but he listened carefully.
    “It was the Saturday before last,” Trixie concluded, “between nine and ten o’clock, right after the first show at the theater let out.”
    Sergeant Molinson wrote down the information. He fidgeted with his pencil for a moment, thinking, and then asked, “What was the weather like that night?”
    “It was beautiful,” Honey said. “The sky was clear, and there was a big moon, and—”
    “And how about the weather on the night the weather vane was stolen?” the sergeant interrupted curtly.
    “That was the night of the big storm,” Trixie said. “The wind was blowing so hard that—that....” She paused. “Gleeps. Could a helicopter fly in all that wind?”
    Sergeant Molinson rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’ll check into it.” As Trixie and Honey tinned to leave, Sergeant Molinson grumbled, “Thanks for the information, anyway. It’s more than I’ve had to go on so far.”

Miss Lawler and the Stranger ● 13

    AFTER LEAVING the police station, Trixie and Honey went to a popular gift shop nearby to shop for Mrs. Wheeler’s birthday gift.
    Honey had no trouble choosing presents—a beautiful scarf and a delicate china figurine. “Mother loves figurines,” Honey declared, “and this one is absolutely perfect”
    While the presents were being wrapped, Honey called for a cab. It was waiting for them when they came out of the shop a few minutes later with the packages in their arms.
    Honey gave directions when they were seated. “Crabapple Farm on Glen Road, please, and then up to Manor House.”
    The cab started with a jerk, knocking Honey sideways against Trixie.
    “Good driver,” Trixie whispered.
    “Good and fast,” Honey replied.
    The cab lurched to a halt at the stoplight in front of the school building. “I can hardly wait to take driver training,” Trixie said. “No more depending on someone else to drive me around.”
    Honey nodded. “Then we can take turns driving the Bob-White station wagon. That will be lots of fun.”
    Glancing out at the school building, Trixie was surprised to see someone coming out the front door.