The Mystery of the Vanishing Victim

“The only miser I remember was Jim’s uncle, who kept a lot of money hidden in his mattress. But he didn’t live on Glen wood. He lived on Glen Road. Anyway, he’s dead now.”
    “I can’t think of any misers in Sleepyside,” Brian said. “But then, I know I’m not thinking straight right now. For that matter, our friend here probably isn’t, either. Don’t take what he says too seriously. And don’t get carried away with ideas about tracking down a miser.”
    Trixie nodded her agreement absentmindedly, staring down at the closed eyes of the stranger. She wondered if the eyes would ever open again. Her own eyes widened, and she reached out to clutch Brian’s arm as another thought occurred to her. “I know who we have to track down, and it isn’t the miser! It’s the green van! That driver just committed a hit-and-run offense. This is a case for the police!“
    “I’ve thought about that,” Brian said. “I’ve thought about how stupid I was not to notice the license number of the van.”
    “Oh, woe, I didn’t think about that, either! I didn’t see the driver, and I didn’t see the license plate. All I know is that it was a big green van. That’s going to be a big fat help to the police!” Trixie said.
    “I can add a little bit to that,” Brian told her. “I know the make and approximate age of the van. That will be of some help, I suppose. Green vans aren’t as common as some kinds of vehicles— although they aren’t as rare as, say, a Model A.” Trixie turned and looked back across the street at Mr. Burnside’s Model A. “I’d forgotten all about it, too. I know it’s silly to think that some inanimate object can be unlucky, but somehow I feel as though we’ve been jinxed ever since we picked up that car.“
    “Don’t even think it!” Honey said with a shudder. “We still have that car in our possession for seven more days, until the sale. If those seven days are anything like the last couple of hours, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it!”
    The sound of running feet made all three Bob-Whites start. Trixie rose to her feet when she saw that the runner was Mart Belden. “Did you find a phone? Did you call an ambulance? Will they be here soon?”
    Gasping, Mart could only nod in answer to his sister’s barrage of questions. He took a few more deep breaths before trying to speak. “I called.... On the way.... Here soon,” he panted.
    Even in her state of anxiety, Trixie was aware of the difference between Mart’s tortured, breathless fragments of speech and his usual elaborate way of talking. She was aware, too, of the similarity between Mart’s unconnected phrases and those the stranger had uttered a few moments ago: “Can’t. Can’t... stop. Find. Find the... miser.” Trixie whispered the phrases to herself, trying to repeat as closely as possible the way the man had uttered them.
    “I can’t stop. I have to find the miser,” Trixie whispered, trying the sentences out on her ears. Was that what the man had meant? She narrowed her eyes as she said the words to herself once again. Then she shook her head. Her interpretation made sense, but the problem, as Brian had pointed out, was that there was no way of telling whether or not the words themselves made sense. They might have been just the incoherent ramblings of a badly hurt man.
    “How is he?” Mart was still breathing heavily, but he was able to speak clearly once again.
    “I don’t know,” Brian told him. “He’s still breathing. His pulse is fairly strong, although it’s racing. I suppose he’s in shock. He may be bleeding internally. I just don’t know.”
    Once again the Bob-Whites started as a sound pierced the stillness. This time, the sound was the one they’d been waiting for: the wail of an ambulance siren. Behind it was a police car.
    Mart stood up and waved his arms to signal the ambulance, which swooped to a halt at the curb. The man and woman who jumped out moved fast and efficiently.
    While they examined the stranger, the police asked the Bob-Whites for their names and addresses and what details they could give about the accident.
    “Our car had broken down. This man came along and helped me get it started. He asked for directions to Glenwood Avenue. I told him, and he started off across the street. He wasn’t looking where he was going. A green van came along and ran him down. The van kept going. We stayed here while my brother went and phoned the ambulance. That’s all