The Mystery of the Uninvited Ghost

away!” A long-legged policeman managed to catch up with him.
    The other officer was questioning the Teed driver closely. The driver raised his voice to plead, “Look! Somebody up there doesn’t like me, see? A couple weeks ago, I got in the doghouse with my boss. One more run-in, and I’m gonna get fired, see? I ain’t got nothin’ to do with no robbery. I just took my slip from the desk. I loaded my truck, and I brung it out here, see? I’ve never been in police trouble, I swear.” Wearily the policeman told him, “I have orders to see that you pack up your load and deliver it to the police station in Sleepyside, and that’s what we’re going to do. Get a move on.”
    He turned. “Is one of you named Trixie Belden? Well, Sergeant Molinson wants to talk to you.”
    The Bob-Whites had done their job well. Not one penny lay in the cash till on the porch. Disappointed customers grumbled as they got into their cars and left the yard sale. The relieved Bob-Whites headed toward Sleepyside.
    Honey sighed. “I hope that closes this case, so we can go on with the wedding preparations.”
    Trixie hoped so, too, but she was not convinced that they had done any more than scratch the surface of the mystery. True, one gang member had been caught. But where were the rest of them? Who was their leader? Was Dan back with the gang, and where was he?
    In Sleepyside, Jim drove straight to the police station, where they found Sergeant Molinson waiting for a full report. The sullen teen-ager, sitting in the sergeant’s office, muttered, “My boss’ll fix you kids for this. He can, you know!”
    “Boss!” Trixie cried. “I knew there had to be a leader. They’re too young to organize a large-scale theft and an out-of-town sale.”
    Sergeant Molinson grinned. “I don’t know about that. You Bob-Whites aren’t in wheelchairs yet, and you do pretty well on your projects.”
    Wheelchairs , Trixie thought. That word again. She asked wistfully, “Have you found Dan?”
    “Not a sign of him, but we’ll keep in touch,” the sergeant promised. “Have your folks come around to identify their property. Anybody care to identify and remove this scooter?” He raised an eyebrow at Trixie.
    “I do!” Trixie exclaimed. “Bobby will think Santa came in August instead of December this year.”
    On August fourth, just two days before the wedding, Miss Trask called all of the girls to the sewing room for a final fitting of their dresses. Even Mrs. Wheeler came to help Honey, Di, Hallie, and Trixie put on the lovely white dresses.
    Tom had built a sturdy stand to make it easier for Ella to do fittings. When it was Trixie’s turn to be checked, she stepped up onto the stand. Ella, her crutches beside her, sat comfortably on the floor, adjusting Trixie’s hem. Mrs. Wheeler sat in a rocking chair, ready to give final approval.
    Feeling like a fairy-tale princess, Trixie swirled the deep, lace-edged ruffle around her ankles. When she faced the triple mirrors, she could see that she looked as pretty as she felt. She smoothed the blue ribbon that fitted snugly around a waist that looked almost as tiny as Di’s. There hadn’t been time for many trips to Wimpy’s lately, and the results showed on her figure.
    Miss Trask said, “Turn. A little more. There. That’s right. Now, stand still.”
    Trixie stood. From her perch on the little platform, she could look through the window and down on the bicycle rack, where all the Wheeler bicycles were now in place. The children were happy at the Lynch and Belden houses because they had their scooters, wagons, and bikes again, and the furniture was back in the Lynch family room. Here at Manor House, errands could be run as usual. In fact, someone was taking a bike as Trixie watched.
    She gasped and leaned forward, receiving a sharp “Stand still!” from Miss Trask.
    The bike being taken was Jim’s, and the thief was that scrawny little teenager who wore both a cowboy hat and boots! He was stealing the bike in broad daylight!
    Trixie unzipped her white dress as fast as she could, while Miss Trask stood back, too startled to scold. Trying to keep her balance as she pulled on her shorts, Trixie saw the boy pedal toward the stable at a furious pace. Buttoning her blouse as she ran, Trixie pell-melled from the house. She had no idea what she was getting into as she swung astride Honey’s unlocked bike and took off.
    At the stable, a tread mark showed that the thief had gone straight through