The Mystery of the Vanishing Victim

moved, so we really have nothing left to donate.”
    “I understand,” Honey said tactfully. “I moved to Sleepyside not so long ago, myself. I remember how my mother tried to weed out our things, so that it would be easier to pack. But Daddy kept putting everything back where it had been. Mother got so mad, she told him he was a ‘regular old miser.’ ” Honey had worked the word into her conversation so skilfully that even Trixie was surprised to hear it.
    But the woman’s reaction was more noticeable than her own. She stiffened and turned her attention to the child playing on the lawn. “Melissa! You come inside this instant!”
    The little girl jumped up and ducked back into the house.
    “We really have nothing to contribute,” the woman said, her voice harsh once again.
    Before the two girls could say another word, the door slammed shut.

A Hard Night’s Work ● 6

    DID YOU SEE THAT?” Trixie whispered excitedly as they started down the walk.
    “How could I miss it?” Honey answered softly. “The poor woman looked as if she’d been stung.”
    “She must be connected with the stranger in some way,” Trixie said.
    “I suppose so,” Honey replied.
    “You suppose so? What other explanation is there?” Trixie demanded.
    “I don’t know, but I’m sure if we told Jim and Brian what just happened, they'd think of something. Maybe it was my whole story that offended the woman. Maybe she moved here to get away from a husband who really was a miser,” Honey said. “Maybe she has nothing to donate to the sale because he wouldn’t let her take anything along. Maybe she was willing to leave it all behind just to get away from him.”
    “What about what her little girl said about not being allowed outside? How does that fit into your theory?” Trixie asked.
    “Maybe her husband was so awful that she ran away, without telling him where she was going. Maybe she’s hiding the children from him,” Honey answered.
    “Do you really believe that, Honey Wheeler?” Trixie demanded.
    “No,” Honey said meekly. “You know I almost always agree with your theories. That is, I agree with them until we tell them to Jim and Brian and Mart and they start picking them apart. The theory about that woman’s having run away is just what I can imagine one of the boys saying.”
    “Well, I think the theories they invent to show me how farfetched mine are, are more farfetched than mine are, sometimes. Oh, you know what I mean!” Trixie said.
    “Okay,” Honey responded, without even a smile at Trixie’s twisted sentence, “let’s say this woman is somehow connected with the hit-and-run victim. What can we do about it?”
    “Why, we can go right back to the house and tell her there’s an unidentified man at Sleepyside Hospital who might be someone she knows,” Trixie said.
    “But what if she is running away from someone?” Honey asked. “We’ll scare the daylights out of her if we say that, and we won’t have the man’s name or anything else to help her decide if she really does know him.”
    “Yes, but what if he’s someone she cares about?” Trixie countered. “Do you think she’s any less scared waiting around day after day in a strange town not knowing what happened to him or where he is or anything?”
    Honey sighed. “That’s true, too. Still, you know what Jim and Brian would say: ‘Two perfect strangers went to a woman’s door asking for donations to a rummage sale. One of them told a long, rambling story that happened to have the word ‘miser’ in it. The woman was startled by the word, or maybe by the story, or maybe just because some total stranger seemed to be telling her whole life story on her doorstep. She went inside and closed the door. It isn’t enough for us to go getting involved in somebody’s life.’ ”
    “Now you sound like the stranger,” Trixie said, “talking about not getting involved.”
    “It isn’t the same thing,” Honey protested. “That man made it sound as though we shouldn’t get involved with people because of what they might do to us. I’m thinking about what we might do to that woman if we butt in with no more information than we have. We might frighten her, scare her out of town, even put her life in danger, just because of the way we imagine she reacted to a single word.”
    “You don’t sound like the stranger anymore,” Trixie said. “You sound exactly like Jim now. Why did we have to find you such a cautious, sensible