The Mystery of the Whispering Witch

struggled to catch her breath. “Oh, please,” she gasped at last. “I—I’m sorry to burst in on you all like this, but I need your help. It—it’s my mother. She’s had an accident, and our phone is out of order.”
    Brian’s gaze sharpened at once. As always, he was instantly concerned when he heard of anyone being sick or injured. He intended to become a doctor, and everyone who knew him was certain he would make a very fine one.
    “Accident?” he echoed now. “What kind of accident? Is she badly hurt?”
    Fay gulped. “It—it’s her hip,” she explained. “I—that is, we—think it’s broken.”
    Trixie listened closely as Fay told them that her mother worked as a housekeeper for one of the local residents. Fay was still unsure exactly what had happened. But something, she thought, had startled Mrs. Franklin as she was reaching into a kitchen cupboard.
    “And she slipped and fell,” Fay finished, catching her breath on a sob, “and now she can’t move. I’ve had to leave her alone to come and get help....” Brian didn’t need to hear any more. “Don’t worry. I’ll see to this. I’ll get in touch with Dr. Ferris at once, and then I’ll drive you home. We can wait for him there. Once he hears about this, he’ll probably send for an ambulance. Where did you say you lived?”
    “Lisgard House,” Fay answered.
    Mart’s jaw dropped. “Lisgard House? But that’s the place—I mean, isn’t it haunt—?” He «topped abruptly as Trixie dug him in the ribs with her elbow.
    Fay didn’t appear to have heard Mart’s remark. She was still watching Brian as he strode quickly across the room toward the telephone.
    “Trix, Mart,” Brian ordered over his shoulder, “you’d better plan on coming with us to Fay’s house. We may need all the help we can get.” Soon he was engaged in a low-voiced conversation with someone on the other end of the line.
    “I’ll come, too,” Honey announced suddenly. “Maybe there’s some way I can help, too.”
    “How ’bout me?” a forlorn young voice asked from the stairs. “Can I come?”
    “Wow!” Trixie breathed. “We forgot all about Bobby!” She hurried toward the small pajama-clad figure. “You should have been asleep ages ago, you rascal,” she told him.
    Bobby grinned up at her. “Mart gave me a bath with lots and lots of bubbles,” he announced. “There were so many bubbles that it took Brian ages and ages to clean them up. Then Mart told me a scary story about a mean ol’ witch who used to live in a big ol’ house around here.”
    Mart shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable. “Uh—I—er—this is kind of a coincidence,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know Fay would be arriving, and I—er—that is, I guess I got carried away. And then when Honey came up, she wanted to find out how the story ended...
    All at once, Trixie realized which witch story Mart must have told. She smothered a gasp and said hastily, “You can tell me about it tomorrow, Bobby. Right now it’s time for bed.”
    But Bobby wasn’t about to leave. “Mart said the witch lived in Sleepyside a long, long time ago, and she did bad things to people. She looked at their crops and stuff, like this.” He scowled ferociously. “And you know what else she did?”
    “I already know,” Trixie replied, trying unsuccessfully to urge him back up the stairs.
    Bobby stood his ground. “First you have to guess what she did next.”
    Fay moved toward him. “Why don’t you tell me what she did next, Bobby?” she said gently.
    Mart looked more uncomfortable than ever. He thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “Listen, Fay, it’s just a dumb story,” he mumbled. “Anyway, you must have heard it all before.”
    Fay nodded slowly. “I’ve heard some of it, of course,” she said, “but never quite this way. Come on, Bobby. What happened next?”
    Trixie watched helplessly as Bobby promptly plopped down on a step and peeked at them through a banister railing. “So the mean ol’ witch made the crops die. And she made people sick, like this.” He clutched at his throat, rolled his eyes, and gurgled horribly in the back of his throat.
    In spite of herself, Honey giggled. Then, almost immediately, she looked sheepishly at Trixie. “I know we shouldn’t have excited Bobby,” she said, “but when I arrived upstairs, Mart was just getting to the most exciting part—”
    “And Honey never heard this story before,” Bobby told Trixie