The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

looking back at the Bob-Whites.
    During the ride home, Trixie sat in the front seat beside Jim. While the others discussed the movie, Trixie tuned in WSTH, the local radio station that belonged to Mr. Perkins. The station was the favorite of everyone in town because of the wide variety of music played. Mr. Perkins had a large collection of old jazz and swing recordings that the adults loved —Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, the Dorsey brothers, George Gershwin, and many others. His son Jeff, who was away at college, saw to it that the station also had all the current rock and popular hits that the young people enjoyed. Various times of the day were devoted to one type of music or the other, and requests from listeners for specific songs were always welcome.
    “Hey, why so quiet, Trix?” Mart asked after a while. “What ponderous ruminations are you cogitating about now?”
    “I’m thinking about Miss Lawler,” Trixie answered. “She didn’t act very shy when I introduced her to Hoppy. But when I invited her to visit Crabapple Farm, she seemed—almost afraid. I think there’s something kind of—”
    “—strange about Miss Lawler,” the other Bob-Whites chorused. They all burst out laughing.
    “You’re always saying that about somebody, Trixie,” Jim said.
    “Well, it’s true,” Trixie insisted, though she couldn’t help giggling herself.
    “Trixie,” Di said when everyone had finished laughing, “did you know the button is missing from your right jacket cuff?”
    “I know,” Trixie confessed, embarrassed. “It popped off the other day, and you know how I hate to sew...
    “Ah-ha!” Mart pointed an accusing finger. “Remember the club rule about keeping our jackets neat and clean? Untidy habiliments are a bad reflection on the Bob-Whites. As secretary-treasurer, I hereby impose a fine of ten cents a day until the button is replaced.”
    “Oh, Mart,” Trixie wailed, “I can’t even find the button. I’ll sew it on as soon as I find it, okay?”
    “Ten cents a day,” Mart repeated.
    Chuckling, Jim swung the car slowly into the driveway at Crabapple Farm. “Better find that button and sew it on, fast,” he said.
    “I’ll have to,” Trixie moaned. “Jeepers! I can’t afford ten cents a day for very long.” She and her brothers climbed out of the station wagon.
    Honey rolled down her window. “Don’t forget that we have to exercise the horses tomorrow. We’ll see you at the stable right after lunch.”
    Di yawned. “I’m glad that doesn’t include me,” she said sleepily. “I won’t see any of you tomorrow. We’ll have company from out of town.”
    Trixie watched the station wagon back down the driveway and scratched her head. “If Miss Lawler doesn’t drive,” she muttered, “how does she get around?”
    “You don’t drive, either,” Brian pointed out. “But you get around pretty well.”
    “I guess you’re right,” Trixie admitted. “But I wonder why someone as smart as Miss Lawler doesn’t know how to drive.”
    Brian thought for a moment. “It is kind of—”
    “Strange,” Trixie finished for him. “See what I mean?”

Surprises on Sunday • 2

    HALFWAY UP the long hill to Manor House, Trixie started to run. “Let’s hurry,” she urged her brothers. “We don’t want to keep Regan waiting.”
    Mart looked up the hill, then glanced at his watch. “According to my calculations, I predict we will cover the distance between our present locus and the Wheeler stable, our terminus, in less than one minute,” he said calmly. “But just to please you, Trixie, I shall change my modus operandi and perambulate at a more expeditious rate.”
    “Thank you, I think,” Trixie said, running on ahead of her brothers.
    When the three Beldens reached the stable, Honey, Jim, and Dan were already waiting for them beside the door.
    “Hi!” Honey said. “Regan has the horses all ready. Let’s go.”
    Regan was waiting for them inside the cool stable. “Too bad you all have to go to school,” he said with a grin. “Now the horses only get ridden on weekends. Any chance of one of you flunking out?”
    “No chance!” the young people insisted.
    Chuckling to himself, Regan crossed the stable to the row of six stalls. Printed above five of the stalls were the names of the Wheelers’ horses: Jupiter, Lady, Susie, Starlight, and Strawberry. Behind their stall doors, the horses stood saddled and waiting. Jupiter, Mr. Wheeler’s spirited black gelding, was