The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

“That would mean that the three of them are partners,” he said.
    “And,” Mart added, “they probably stole Mr. Quinn’s coin collection, too. It all fits.”
    “It sure looks like it,” Trixie admitted sadly. “But Jim is right—we don’t have any way to prove that any of them are involved.”
    “We do have a lot of things that should be tinned over to Sergeant Molinson, right away,” Jim pointed out. “I suggest we head for Manor House, get the station wagon, and go to town right now.”
    “We need to get Mayor Davis’s card, too,” Trixie remembered. “Let’s go back to Crabapple Farm. We can go to town in Brian’s jalopy... assuming it’s still running after you worked on it this morning.”
    “It’s running better than ever,” Brian assured her. “Lets go!”

    Mrs. Belden and Bobby were not yet back when the young people filed into the kitchen half an hour later.
    “I’ll leave a note for Moms,” Trixie said, “telling her that we went into town.”
    “We may be a while,” Jim cautioned.
    “I’ll tell Moms we’ll get dinner at Wimpy’s,” Trixie added. “That’ll save her some trouble at dinner time tonight.”
    A few minutes later, they were crowded in Brian’s jalopy, chugging down Glen Road toward town. Trixie carried the broken spire and the other artifacts in a small grocery sack on her lap.
    Halfway there, Brian’s jalopy coughed and sputtered and coasted to a stop. The boys jumped out and pushed the car to the side of the road, then opened the hood and peered inside.
    Trixie, still in her seat, bit her lip and tried to stop the thought that kept going through her head. We may be sending Miss Lawler to prison, she thought. She can’t be Sammy’s partner ... can she?

A Squirrel Gives a Clue • 18

    TRIXIE SAT in the backseat of Brian’s stalled jalopy and fidgeted with the sack in her lap.
    “We’ll have it going again in no time,” Brian called from behind the raised hood. “I think.”
    Trixie turned to Honey. “I’m too nervous to just sit,” she said. “Let’s get out and walk. The boys can catch up when they get the car going again.”
    “Okay,” Honey agreed.
    They told the boys that they were going to walk on ahead, and in a few minutes, the jalopy was out of sight behind them.
    “What’s bothering you, Trixie?” Honey asked as they walked down Glen Road.
    Trixie scowled. “I just can’t believe that Miss Lawler is a thief. I’m sure that Sammy stole Hoppy, and I’m pretty sine that the bell tower man is Sammy’s partner. But Miss Lawler knows both of them, and she was responsible for Mr. On inn’s coin collection—”
    “And the coin collection got stolen, too,” Honey completed.
    “Right,” Trixie said. “So if we prove that Sammy stole Hoppy, and he gets arrested... then Miss Lawler will probably end up in jail, too.”
    “But we can’t prove that Sammy stole Hoppy,” Honey reminded her. “All we can prove is that Hoppy was hidden in the woods.”
    “That’s the other thing that’s bothering me,” Trixie said. “There must be a way to prove that Sammy stole Hoppy. I just can’t figure out what it is.”
    Trixie and Honey glanced over their shoulders from time to time, but there was no sign of Brian’s jalopy. Before long, they were on the outskirts of town.
    Honey giggled. “I guess we should have taken the station wagon after all,” she said.
    Trixie nodded and looked at her watch. “I don’t know whether we should go to Sergeant Molinson right now or wait for the boys.”
    “Let’s sit and rest a minute,” Honey suggested, pointing to one of the benches that were placed around the edge of the common.
    The girls plopped down on the bench and looked around. The common was deserted, and the late afternoon light cast eerie shadows through the bare tree branches.
    Honey shivered and turned the collar of her jacket up. “It looks kind of spooky,” she said.
    Trixie pointed to a fat squirrel crossing the common. “He doesn’t look too scared,” she said with a grin.
    As the girls watched, the squirrel stopped to sit up and nibble on something it found on the dry grass. When it was through eating, it looked around, sniffing the air, and then scampered off toward Town Hall.
    “He must live in one of those trees,” Honey said, pointing to the stately old elms that stood along the back of the building.
    Trixie’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped wide open.
    “What’s the matter, Trixie?” Honey asked