The Mystery off Old Telegraph Road

she passed the tradition on to me. Oh, I’m Trixie Belden, by the way, and this is Honey Wheeler,” Trixie added, remembering her manners.
    “I read about you in the Sleepyside Sun,” Nick Roberts said. “You’re the ones who solved the mystery about the disappearance of the grasshopper from the steeple of Town Hall. Then you donated the reward money to the city to get the weather vane replated. It’s an honor to have such celebrities at our art fair,” he added in a teasing tone.
    While Trixie blushed, Honey said, “You’re the one who should be a celebrity, Nick. These drawings are just marvelous. This is where I live.” Honey pointed to the drawing of the Manor House. “And this house here, with all the big old crab-apple trees around it, is Trixie’s. We recognized them from across the gym, and we just had to come over here and see them up close.”
    “They’re even better up close,” Trixie added, forgetting her embarrassment as she inspected the drawing of Crabapple Farm. “Every detail is perfect. There are the windows of my room, with those crabapple branches almost touching them. I can even see Bobby’s bike in the front yard. He ’forgotted’ to put it away, as usual.”
    “The Manor House is perfect, too,” Honey said. “There are Susie and Starlight in the paddock in front of the stable. How do you manage to do such beautiful drawings, Nick?”
    “I have one here that I’m working on,” Nick replied, “if you’d like a brief demonstration.” When both girls nodded eagerly, Nick sat down at a table in front of his collection of drawings and showed them the picture he was working on.
    “I work from a photograph,” he told them. “That way I can work on the drawing for as long as I have to, whenever I have time, without being bothered by changes in light because of the time of day or the weather.
    “I work on illustration board,” he continued, “which is fairly heavy. It comes in a lot of textures and colors, so I can get different effects. The pen I use is called a technical pen, and it’s really just a hollow metal tube with a cartridge full of ink attached to it. The tubes come in several different sizes to give different widths of line. For example, I might use a size four for the outlines of the house, and then I’d switch to a smaller size, like a two-or three-aught, for fine lines like the twigs of the crabapple trees at Trixie’s house. I’ve already done a pencil sketch of this photograph of the Glen Road Inn, and now I just trace over the pencil and fill in the details with the pen.”
    As Honey and Trixie watched, the Glen Road Inn began to take shape under Nick’s rapidly moving hand. He filled in shadowy areas and gave some places depth with tiny crisscrossed lines, or “cross-hatching,” as he called them.
    “It must be wonderful to be so talented,” Trixie said admiringly. “How did you get interested in pen-and-ink?”
    Trixie saw the muscles in Nick’s jaw tighten as he dropped the pen almost contemptuously onto the table. “Actually,” he said, “I didn’t choose pen-and-ink. It chose me.” Seeing the girls’ mystified looks, he explained, “The other media, like watercolors and oils, are just plain too expensive. A good brush can cost twenty dollars. And one tube of oil paint is around four dollars. Add the cost of canvas and cleaners and multiply that by the number of colors you’d need to do justice to a painting and—well, you get the idea.”
    “Gleeps!” Trixie exclaimed. “I’ll say I do! Some of the other artists here have told us about the lack of money for art supplies and how it’s been bothering them, but nobody put it quite as, uh, vividly, as you have. No wonder the art department decided to put on this art fair.”
    “That was my idea,” Nick said. “You see, I want to go on to art school after I graduate, but no good school will take me on the basis of these drawings. I need samples of work in other media, too. I’ll be a senior next year, so that’s my last chance to get together the samples I need. And after the turnout for the art fair, I’d say my chances are as slim as ever,” he added bitterly.
    “I wish we could help,” Trixie said in a sympathetic tone.
    “Well, thanks,” Nick said. “But I don’t see how you can. Not unless you know somebody on the school board that you can persuade to give the art department more money. It’s a vicious circle. Other departments, like theater and athletics,