The Mystery off Glen Road

labyrinth than we do. Nobody has ever ridden them along these particular trails.”
    “I still think horses have a sort of homing-pigeon instinct or something,” Honey said, “but let’s not take any chances of getting lost, unless we’re riding Strawberry and Lady.”
    “We’ll never get lost so long as we stick to the trails,” Trixie said. “They all come out on the road eventually.” A few minutes later they caught sight of the little Glen Road store, and she said, “I’ve been thinking, Honey. I’d better not go near Mr. Lytell. He’d be sure to ask me a lot of questions about the ring and all. Here’s the money. You buy the papers and sort of casually ask him who that man was we saw yesterday.”
    “All right,” Honey agreed as she dismounted and handed the reins to Trixie. When she came back, she said, “Mr. Lytell is really very nice at times. See? He rolled the papers and tied them together so they’d be easy to carry.”
    “Give them to me,” Trixie said, reaching down for the bundle. “They’re my problem. Now, who is that strange man?”
    “His name is Maypenny,” Honey said, swinging back into the saddle. “And, believe it or not, he’s owned property around here for simply ages.”
    “That’s not possible,” Trixie said flatly. “I never saw him before.”
    “It’s true, though,” Honey replied. “Mr. Lytell says he’s sort of a hermit. He buys things from the store a few times a year, but mostly he lives on his land, which isn’t very far from here.”
    “Oh,” Trixie said in a disappointed tone of voice. “That explains why I never even heard of him. Well, I guess he’s not a poacher, after all.” She added thoughtfully, “It’s kind of funny I never saw his house, though. Where is it?”
    “I have no idea,” Honey said. “Mr. Lytell tried to tell me where it was, but you know how vague I am when it comes to understanding directions. He sort of pointed as he talked about Mr. Maypenny, but since we were inside the store, I couldn’t tell whether he was pointing to the south or the east. The points of the compass are very different indoors from what they are outdoors.”
    Trixie giggled. “To us they are, but not to normal people. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is to find out who left that footprint in the clearing. Let’s look at it when we reach the fork.”
    “I suppose,” Honey said dubiously, “now that we’re gamekeepers, that is important. But why don’t we say that Mr. Maypenny left it, and let it go at that?”
    “He couldn’t have left it,” Trixie argued. “If he has property of his own around here, why would he bother to trespass on your father’s property? Since he’s a hermit, he obviously never leaves home unless he has to. Mr. Lytell is different. He keeps on thinking that ancient Belle of his must be exercised every day, rain or shine, so he just has to trespass on the bridle trails.”
    “All right,” Honey said placidly. “Then Mr. Lytell left that footprint. You don’t know for sure, Trixie Belden, that he doesn’t own a pair of hunting boots. Just because you’ve never seen him stir more than a few steps, unless he’s riding Belle or in a car, doesn’t mean he can’t ever take a walk in the woods. And if he does, which I’m sure he must, he’d wear boots on account of the copperheads around here. Boots are like those red hats. Nobody in his right mind would stroll through the woods without boots at any time of the year,”
    “Don’t be silly,” Trixie snapped. “As soon as the weather gets cold, the snakes start to hibernate.”
    “Well, poison ivy doesn’t hibernate,” Honey said. “That’s reason enough to wear boots. Jim was telling me only yesterday that when he was a little boy, he got the worst attack of poison ivy he ever had, in January !”
    “I did, too,” Trixie admitted.
    Honey shook with laughter. “When you were a little boy , Trixie?”
    “A tomboy, then,” Trixie replied with a grin. “Gosh, Honey, I don’t see how I can possibly stand another whole week of behaving like a little lady.”
    “The worst has yet to come,” Honey said, her hazel eyes twinkling. “Cousin Ben arrives this afternoon, and you’ve got to act as though he were your very own dream man.”
    “Nightmare is the word,” Trixie said with a shudder. “That creep! I don’t think I can even look at him without crossing my eyes.”
    Honey laughed so hard she almost fell off her horse.