The Mystery of the Vanishing Victim

to the school gymnasium, since that’s where the sale will be held?” Brian asked.
    Mr. Belden shook his head. “I doubt it, Brian. A custodian would have to be on duty every day at the school. Paying for his time would eat up most of the proceeds from your sale. There’s bound to be some other place in town that meets the requirements. We’ll all give it some thought and see what we can come up with.”
    “I don’t think I’ll think of anything,” Trixie said foggily. “I think I’m too tired to think.”
    “A circumstance that is not as inconceivable as you would have us suppose,” Mart teased.
    Trixie was too weary even to rise to the bait her brother offered. “I hope I’m assigned some easy duties today at the hospital. I might be able to read a storybook to a youngster—if the pages aren’t too heavy to turn.”
    “Don’t forget to find out whatever you can about the hit-and-run victim,” Brian told her.
    “I’m not too tired to remember that,” Trixie assured him. “I’ll make a full report when I get home this afternoon.”
    “In return for that, and for your hard work last night, I’m prepared to offer you a ride to the hospital in the vehicle of your choice,” Brian said. “Would you prefer the Model A or my jalopy?”
    Trixie giggled. “Some choice,” she teased. “I’ll take whichever one is most un likely to break down on the way!”
    “Let’s make it the jalopy, then,” Brian said with a grin. “It isn’t really less likely to break down, but I’m more likely to know what to do when it does. Are you ready, Trix?”
    His sister drained the last of her orange juice and pushed back her chair. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.

    At the hospital, Trixie reported to the director of volunteers, Ms. Lee, who looked at the young Volunteen critically. “We have patients who look healthier than you do, Trixie,” she said. “Are you feeling all right?”
    Trixie shook her head ruefully and told Ms. Lee about her hard work the night before.
    “The hospital wants volunteers, not more patients,” Ms. Lee chided gently when Trixie had finished. “I think you’d better take it easy today.”
    “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Trixie said gratefully.
    “Why don’t you go to the children’s ward and read stories for a while?” Ms. Lee said. “Or is there something else you’d rather do?”
    “There is one thing,” Trixie said. She told Ms. Lee about her involvement with the hit-and-run victim who had been brought in two nights before. “I’d like to find out whatever I can about his condition,” she concluded.
    “Of course,” Ms. Lee said. “In fact, I think it might be very helpful to us if you visit him. He’s been conscious since early this morning, but he’s refused to say a word to anyone. We still don’t know his name or anything about him. Maybe he’ll talk to you, since you helped to save his life the other night. You might be able to cheer him up, too, and that would undoubtedly aid in his recovery.”
    Trixie smiled at Ms. Lee. “It would aid in mine, too. Thanks!”
    Trixie went to the stranger’s room and knocked on the open door before she entered. When she walked into the room, she found him lying in bed, his head swathed in bandages.
    The man stared at her hostilely. “What do you want?” he growled.
    “I’m Trixie Belden,” she told him. “My friends and I are wondering how you’re doing.”
    “What friends?” the man demanded. “How do you know me? How did you know I was here?“
    “Don’t you remember?” Trixie asked. “The night of your accident—”
    “If I remembered, I wouldn’t have asked,” the man said gruffly.
    “Oh,” Trixie said, looking at the white bandages wrapped around the stranger’s head. She remembered Juliana Maasden, who had also been a hit-and-run victim. After the accident, Juliana had been unable to remember anything, even her own name. That sometimes happened with head injuries, the doctor had told the Bob-Whites.
    “Right before your accident, you stopped to help
    us with a stalled car—a Model A. Then you—We—” Trixie searched for the right word. “We were there when it—”
    “You saw me get run over, you mean?” the man asked.
    Trixie nodded dumbly.
    “They told me about you young people,” the man said. “Apparently you saved my life by keeping me warm with your jackets and calling an ambulance and waiting till it came.”
    “Well, we’ve been sort of