The Mystery of the Uninvited Ghost

you suppose the binoculars are in this mess?” she asked.
    “Binoculars!” If they’d practiced registering surprise in unison, Brian, Mart, and Hallie couldn’t have done a better job.
    “Where did you get that idea?” Hallie asked.
    “Uh, this is camping stuff,” Trixie mumbled. “I thought that somewhere in this pile there should probably be a pair of binoculars.”
    Mart made a messy but thorough examination of the contents of the suitcase. “Wrong,” he said. “No binoculars.”
    From his tone, Trixie knew he was remembering her outburst in the lane. She was not the only Belden with brains. Mart pretended to be a clown and liked to use outlandishly long words and sentences, but he was an honor roll student. He had good recall.
    “Since I won’t be dressing for dinner, will someone help me repack this bag, please?” Hallie invited.
    “Speaking of dressing,” Trixie said, “did you wear that outfit on the plane, Hallie?”
    Hallie was no giggler. She chuckled and retorted slangily, “Nope. I tried to get away with it, but Mom sent me back to change after my bag was locked. I shoved my cutoffs and topper into my overnight kit so I could change the minute I got here.” She shrugged. “Lucky I did, or else I’d be teetering around in high heels, nylons, and a double-knit suit.” Almost against her will, Trixie chalked up another point they had in common. “I like comfortable clothes, too,” she said. She dropped a pair of red socks and bent to pick them up.
    There on the floor, just at the edge of the hem of Bobby’s bedspread, was a black plastic lid of some sort. When she turned it over on her palm, she discovered the word “Empire” printed in silver on the black surface. She held out her hand to show her find. “What do you suppose this is?” she asked.
    “Looks like a lens guard from a pair of binoculars,” Brian said.
    “I told you—” Trixie began hotly, then forced herself to calm down. After all, Hallie had seemed honestly surprised at the mention of binoculars. And Moms said that she’d been telling Hallie all the news. That meant that Hallie couldn’t have been alone in Trixie’s room, spying down the lane. Then, who...?
    “Bobby!” Trixie shouted. “Come here!”
    Instantly Bobby came through the door, wearing his angel face. Plaintively he said, “You don’t have to yell at me. I’ve been up here a long time. This is my room, and you didn’t even say ‘Come in.’ ” Trixie snatched the lens guard from Brian’s hand and waggled it before Bobby’s face. “Have you seen this before?” she demanded sternly.
    Bobby took the cap and shoved it into a pocket. “Oh, no, you don’t!” Trixie warned. She reached into his pocket and came up with two lens caps. She said severely, “Now! I want to know where you put the binoculars!”
    Bobby looked worried and turned to Brian for support. Trixie and Mart, the almost-twins, often gave him trouble, but Brian could be depended on to listen to his side of a story. Bobby told this tall, dark, quiet brother, “I didn’t steal the—the—”
    “Binoculars?” Brian prompted.
    Bobby nodded. “I just wanted to borrow the nocklers to see if anybody was sitting in the wheelchair.” Around the room, lips formed the word “wheelchair,” but no one made a sound. Brian held up a warning hand to keep Trixie from speaking. “Well?” he asked. “Did you see?”
    “Course not. You drove in front, and I couldn’t.” Mart grinned broadly. “Bobby, are you telling us that there was a wheelchair in our lane and our female shamus didn’t see it?”
    Bobby refused to commit himself. “What’s a shame-us?”
    “Mart’s trying to be funny,” Trixie said impatiently. “It’s a policeman.”
    “Oh.” Bobby thought deeply. “I think we need one, ’cause it’s against the law.”
    The Beldens were used to Bobby’s way of talking in circles. He could not be hurried.
    “What’s against the law?” Trixie asked.
    “Opening other people’s mailboxes.” Bobby turned around and started to leave the room.
    “You come right back here, Bobby Belden!” Trixie commanded.
    Bobby was not to be easily ordered around just because there was a guest in the house. He was his own man. “Well, don’t you want the nocklers? I was just going to get them. They’re under your bed.” And out the door he went.
    Trixie started to follow, but Brian shook his head. With furious speed she began repacking the brown suitcase. At the