The Pet Show Mystery

a smart dog, really. He’ll find his way home.”
    “But when, Trixie?” Bobby asked. “When will Reddy come home?”
    “Before morning, for sure,” Trixie said.

    By the next morning, Trixie was sorry she’d made the promise to Bobby. There was still no sign of the Irish setter when Jim and Honey came by in the station wagon to pick the older Beldens up for school. Bobby was more upset than he had been the previous afternoon.
    The Wheelers were horrified at the news of Reddy’s disappearance. “It’s not like Reddy to run away,” Honey said.
    “I don’t think he ran away at all,” Trixie said. “I think he was stolen.”
    “Oh, come on, Trix,” Brian said. “Reddy is cute, but he’s hardly a prize. Who’d want to steal him?”
    “Whoever wants to stop the pet show,” Trixie replied. “First there was that rumor, \hen the phone call. Now someone’s stolen our dog as a way of telling us we should stop the show.”
    “Only a future detective would come up with an explanation like that,” Mart said.
    “Do you have a better one?” Trixie challenged.
    Brian spoke up. “For Reddy’s disappearance? Sure. A passing rabbit that needed chasing, or a neighbor who needed visiting. Old Brom might have put him up for the night, figuring it was too cold to send him home. He doesn’t have a car or a telephone. My guess is that Reddy will be home this afternoon by the time we are.”
    “What about the rumor and the phone call?” Trixie asked. “Do you think Old Brom is responsible for those, too?”
    Brian was starting to lose patience. “Of course not. I don’t know who’s responsible for those things. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re over and there was no harm done. I’m not going to waste time worrying about them. Neither should you.”
    Jim had pulled the station wagon into a space in the school parking lot as Brian spoke. Before the car had fully stopped moving, Trixie threw the door open and scrambled out of the car. Without a backward glance, she hurried toward the school.
    “Trixie, wait up!” Honey called. “Sometimes those boys make me so mad,” Trixie growled as Honey caught up to her. “Brian saw how heartbroken Bobby was yesterday afternoon. How can he be so smug?
    “He is concerned about Bobby,” Honey replied softly. “He just doesn’t believe that Reddy was stolen, that’s all.”
    “Well, I do, and that’s all,” Trixie said defiantly. She started rummaging through her purse. Eventually she held up a quarter that had been floating around at the bottom. “I’m going to call David Llewelyn.” She headed for a pay phone, with Honey right behind.
    Trixie left a message that she and Honey would be at the cafe after school that afternoon. “I’d like him to meet us there to discuss the problem we talked about before,” she said. She listened as the operator repeated the message, thanked her, and hung up.
    Trixie went through the rest of the day in a haze. She was distant and distracted during lunch. So was Mart, whose corrections during computer class that morning hadn’t resulted in a working program.
    “I got permission to take a computer home tonight,” he said. “I thought you wouldn’t mind, Jim, since we have the station wagon anyway.”
    Jim made a carefree gesture with the hand that held his sandwich. “It will be a little crowded with seven people and one computer, but that’s no problem,” he said.
    “Honey and I can minimize the crowding by taking the bus home,” Trixie said quickly.
    “You don’t have to,” Jim said.
    “No—but we don’t mind, either,” Honey said quickly.
    “See? That solves the problem,” Jim told Mart.
    It certainly does, Trixie thought with relief.
    Somehow, Trixie and Honey made it through the afternoon and finally found themselves at the cafe, waiting for David Llewelyn. The polite man didn’t keep them waiting long.
    “You say there’s another problem?” he asked, frowning with concern, as he slid into the booth.
    Trixie nodded and, without hesitation, told him about her dog’s disappearance and her brother’s unhappiness.
    “Poor little boy,” David Llewelyn said. “That’s a problem, all right. Do you really think it’s related to the other two, though?”
    “I really do,” Trixie said. “Reddy is one spoiled dog. He wouldn’t stray far from home in this weather on his own.”
    “And you think Paul Gale is behind all three incidents?” the investigator asked.
    “I don’t know,”