The Mystery off Old Telegraph Road

to pick them up.” She started toward the door.
    “Hold on a minute,” Mr. Crider said, chuckling. “My students can’t communicate your message very effectively if they don’t know what it is. I need to know the date, the time, the place, and what you think is most important to say—what will grab people’s attention.”
    “Of course,” Trixie said. “I’m sorry. I have a bad habit of assuming that other people know all the details of things I’m involved in, just because I spend all my time thinking about them.”
    “That’s a fairly common habit with us human beings, Trixie,” Mr. Crider assured her. He handed her a piece of paper and a pencil. “That’s why someone invented the writer’s rough.”
    Mr. Crider explained that Trixie should make a rough sketch of what she thought the posters and pledge cards should look like, printing out the information and indicating where any special artwork should go.
    “Let’s see... Trixie thought for a moment, then wrote a headline, “Come Along for the Ride,” and filled in the information about the time and starting point for the bikeathon, as well as the fact that the money raised would be used to help buy supplies and equipment for the art department. “I think we should have a map, too,” Trixie said, “so that people who look at the poster will see right away that the route goes through the Wheelers’ game preserve. Lots of kids will sign up just to get a chance to tour the preserve.” She sketched the map on the paper, then added, “Oh, yes! There’s an important line I left out.” On the paper, she lettered, free refreshments well be served.
    Trixie then did another writer’s rough for the pledge cards and handed the two pieces of paper to Mr. Crider.
    The art teacher looked them over and said, “These look fine, Trixie. I’ll give them to the first-year students this afternoon, and you should be able to pick up the posters and pledge cards about this time on Wednesday morning.”
    Trixie thanked him and started to leave, then hesitated. “Mr. Crider, I’m not trying to pry, but I was wondering about Nick Roberts. I don’t know him well. Actually, I don’t think I know him at all. I was just wondering why he always seems so— well, so troubled. He has so much talent that I’m sure he’ll be very successful someday, and he’s very attractive, but he always seems so gloomy .”
    Mr. Crider sighed. “I don’t know Nick well either, Trixie, despite the fact that he spends all of his free time in this department. I do know that he’s had some unfortunate experiences. Nick and his family moved to Sleepyside just last year from New York City. His mother’s health isn’t very good, and her doctor suggested it might improve if she were away from the pollution of the city.
    “Nick’s father is a master engraver, and he was in demand in the city, but there isn’t much call for his talents in a small town like Sleepyside. He has a little shop downtown, where he sells engraved trophies and plaques and such, but there isn’t much money in it. And, although Mrs. Roberts’s health has improved since they moved here, the medical bills that they ran up have put them pretty deeply in debt.
    “Nick tries to help out by working evenings and weekends as a sign painter, and he does make enough money to pay for his expenses and help out a little with the bills at home. Still, he resents having to take so much time away from his serious work, and, understandably, he’s a little bit bitter. I’ve tried to draw him out since he’s been in my classes, but it doesn’t seem to work. He’s a very unhappy young man, and that’s too bad, since, as you said, he does have a lot going for him and will probably succeed eventually—if the chip on his shoulder doesn’t stand between him and success.” Trixie nodded soberly. “I understand him a lot better now, Mr. Crider. I’m glad you told me about Nick’s background. He must feel as though he’s carrying the weight of the whole world around on his shoulders. Still, that’s when a person needs friends most.”
    “I couldn’t agree with you more, Trixie,” Mr. Crider said. “I hope you’ll keep trying to be friends with Nick. Just don’t take it too personally if he’s not always very open with you.”
    Trixie thanked Mr. Crider again for his help, and, promising to come back on Wednesday to pick up the posters and pledge cards, she returned to her study hall. On the way, she thought