The Mystery of the Uninvited Ghost

wheelchair. Now we can forget about it. If that man’s a criminal, he’s got holes in his head. All his secrets are spread out in plain sight.”
    Several times during this speech, Trixie tried to break in. Finally she exclaimed loudly, “Hallie Belden! You were the one who saw the truck!”
    Hallie shrugged. “So I saw a pickup.”
    “And who asked all the questions? You did!”
    Hallie grinned. “So I’ve got a big mouth.”
    With her temper bouncing like com in a popper and no Brian present to cool her down, Trixie yelled, “If you had sense enough to keep track of your own belongings, nobody would have seen a wheelchair!
    I suppose it’s going to be like this all the rest of the summer. Whenever I turn around, there you are, causing me trouble!”
    In case Hallie wasn’t hearing well, Trixie shouted. “If you didn’t think there was something fishy about this wheelchair business, why did you horn in?” Abruptly Trixie became aware of silence and watchful eyes. Jim was the only one not staring. He was fumbling with his ignition key. While Trixie gulped down her temper, Jim walked around the hood of the wagon and held open the door. He didn’t look at Trixie.
    Trixie didn’t move. In one of her rare outbursts, Honey cried, “For goodness’ sake, we all have work to do. Let’s go home and do it!”
    Feeling guilty and foolish, Trixie joined Di and Hallie in the backseat. Already frightened by the robbery and hurt by the missing invitation, Di was very upset by Trixie’s display. She asked the others’ opinions about this and that, and nothing she said made much sense. Trixie didn’t talk, even when Hans tried to be polite to her.
    When Jim drove up the farm lane, Trixie couldn’t scramble out of the car fast enough. Nervously she told the others, “Don’t be late for dinner. H-Hallie and I are cooking tonight, aren’t we, Hallie?”
    “Sure,” Hallie agreed, sealing a hasty truce.

Scooped • 6

    BEFORE THEY ENTERED the house, Trixie and Hallie shook hands. Each muttered, “I’m sorry,” then went straight to the kitchen and set to work.
    In less than five minutes, however, Trixie exclaimed, “I still feel like hitting something!”
    “How about a tennis ball?” Hallie asked, half joking.
    Trixie was struck by sudden inspiration. “We don't have a court, just the net in the backyard. Are you game to bike to the country club for a real set?” Hallie shrugged. “Okay. How far is it?”
    “It’s downhill coming home,” Trixie hedged. Luckily they didn’t have to pedal far. Before they reached Mr. Lytell’s store, they heard a car behind them. Di’s father slowed his Cadillac to shout, “Going my way?”
    “Country club?” Trixie shouted back.
    “Righto. Hop in. I’ll put your bikes in the trunk.” As soon as they were seated, he launched into a recital about the news item in the Sun. He ended by saying, “There’s the darnedest development for the club directors to handle, too. That stand-up comic at the club has quit.”
    “Mart thought he might,” Trixie said slowly. “Smart boy, Mart. If he could pack ’em in like that fellow Tolliver, we’d hire him!”
    “Did the police find out who wrote that note in the fireplace?” Hallie asked.
    “Nobody at our house, or else our own telephone notepaper would have been used. It matches the decor, you know.”
    Trixie grinned. “Royal blue and gold.”
    “My wife’s a nut about having things match,” Mr. Lynch said. “Even children!” He roared at his own joke about the two sets of twins at his house.
    Before going to the tennis courts, Trixie stopped at the nearest club telephone and looked at the note pad to see for herself that Mr. Lynch was right. The note in the fireplace did match this paper.
    Trixie found that she had to work when she faced Hallie across the net. The younger girl had strong legs and a smashing serve. They had long since forgotten their argument when Mr. Lynch plopped down on a spectators’ bench. “Thought you two might like a ride home.”
    By the time the Belden family was under one roof again, the girls were working together, if not happily, at least calmly.
    Dinner that second night of Hallie’s visit was a gathering of the Bob-Whites, Hans, and Juliana. Even Dan Mangan was there. Not usually vain about his appearance, Dan had trimmed the sideburns of his long dark hair for this occasion. Instead of the “tough guy” black clothing he used to wear, he was neatly dressed in faded