The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

she saw the lights on in the social studies room. And we know that Miss Lawler planned to stay late—she told us she was going to wait for Sammy.”
    Trixie nodded slowly. “But I guess she was really waiting for that stranger. It looks like she helped him steal the coins,” she said sadly. “They must be partners in crime.”
    “Oh, no!” Di protested. “I don’t believe it! Miss Lawler wouldn’t steal the coins!”
    “Why didn’t you tell this to Sergeant Molinson yesterday?” Jim asked.
    “Because he didn’t ask me,” Trixie said, flushing. “I wanted to talk about it with the rest of you Bob-Whites first.”
    “Maybe that man is Miss Lawler’s boyfriend,” Dan suggested.
    Trixie shook her head. “They didn’t greet each other like friends. It seemed more like a—a business meeting,” she said.
    Mart pointed a quick finger at Trixie. “Was Miss Lawler carrying a package or anything?” he asked sharply.
    Trixie stopped to think. “No,” she answered. “But she was carrying that big tote bag she always carries.” Jim groaned. “I’ve seen that bag,” he said. “She could carry ten coin collections in it.”
    Unhappy and frustrated, Trixie pushed her hair back from her hot forehead. “It sure looks like Miss Lawler and that stranger are working together. We all know that Miss Lawler is a new-newmis—”
    “A numismatist,” Mart put in.
    “Right,” Trixie continued. “She would know if the coins were valuable. She’d know where to sell them, too.”
    “I’m afraid you may be right,” Jim said.
    “Are you going to tell Sergeant Molinson?” Di asked.
    Trixie sighed. “We’ll have to tell him what we saw,” she said. “We don’t have any real proof that Miss Lawler was involved, thank goodness. I guess Honey and I will have to stop at the station on Monday after school.”
    When the meeting was over, everyone was gloomy and quiet. There was none of the chatter and laughter that usually followed their get-togethers.
    “It doesn’t look very good for Miss Lawler,” Brian said as he locked the clubhouse door.
    “Well,” Trixie said as the Bob-Whites started home, “at least Moms will be happy today—I’ll be home in time to help with dinner.” She brightened and tinned to the others. “Why don’t all of you come and have dinner with us? It’ll cheer us up. Moms is baking beans and brown bread, and our bean pot is huge. There’ll be plenty for everybody.”
    Mart’s gloom lifted a little. “Yeah—and we can add spheroids of spicy chopped meat encased in delicate skin—”
    Trixie giggled. “He means cut-up hot dogs,” she explained. “Mart has trouble with little words like that.”
    “It sounds good anyway,” Jim said. “Your mother makes the best baked beans this side of heaven, Trixie. How about it Honey, shall we accept this dinner invitation?”
    “Let’s,” Honey answered quickly. “Mother and Dad are in New York, and I’m sure Miss Trask won’t mind. I’ll call her from Trixie’s.”
    “How about you, Di? Dan?” Brian asked.
    “Sorry. I’m out,” Dan said. “I’m still cutting firewood. Mr. Maypenny can’t handle that anymore.” Di looked disappointed. “I promised Mother I’d
    help with the twins,” she said. “But thanks anyway.”
    “Maybe next time,” Trixie said.
    “Don’t worry,” Brian added. “Mart’ll eat extra helpings in your names!”

Surprising News • 15

    IN THE BACKYARD at Crabapple Farm, Bobby was playing with Reddy, the Beldens’ big Irish setter. Trixie and the others had cut through the orchard, and Brian signaled them to a halt in the shadows where they could watch without being seen.
    “Pay ’tention, Reddy,” Bobby said. “This is how you roll over.” Bobby rolled over in the leaves that covered the lawn. “See? Now you do it. Roll over!” Reddy wagged his tail and licked Bobby’s face.
    “No, no! Don’t kiss! Roll over!” Bobby rolled over once more. “Like that, see?”
    Trixie and the others burst out laughing. “Who is training whom?” Mail asked as they all emerged from the shadows.
    “Hi, everybody!” Bobby shouted. “I teached Reddy a neat trick. Watch!” He picked up a large stick and threw it with all his might. “Go fetch, Reddy!” he ordered.
    The big dog bounded across the yard after the stick. Trixie and Honey exchanged glances—Reddy was not famous for his discipline.
    “Pay ’tention,” Bobby urged. “Reddy’s a smart dog; you’ll see.”
    Reddy came