The Red Trailer Mystery

apron. "I’ve been lonely for so long and bored with cooking for just Nat and the hired man, I don’t know what I’ll do if that family ever leaves me."
    "Oh, I’m sure they’ll never do that," Honey cried sympathetically. "They must love being here."
    "It’s Mrs. Darnell who worries me," Mrs. Smith went on. "She’s so frail-looking, and yet she’s down there picking beans with her husband. He’s a grand worker, the best we ever had, and he and Nat will get the crop in all right without her help, although they did have to wait until the sun dried off the beans this morning on account of rust."
    Trixie tried to gather her scattered thoughts. It must be the red-trailer family, and, if so, she should tell Mrs. Smith that Mr. Darnell had stolen the Robin. But somehow she couldn’t do that. The Smiths needed help, the Darnells needed a home, and Mrs. Smith obviously loved having them here. Anyway, she quieted her conscience, how can I be absolutely sure that Mr. Darnell is the same man we saw with the Robin?
    I have no business, she decided at last, causing a lot of people unhappiness until I actually see that trailer or someone in the Darnell family.
    Mrs. Smith was rambling on between enormous bites of cookies and gulps of lemonade. "Such sickly little mites," she told Honey, who looked as though she were going to cry any minute. "I told Mrs. Darnell that I would take entire charge of them and fatten them up while she took a good, long rest. But, no. She insisted upon making the beds and washing the dishes, and now she’s down there in this broiling sun picking beans. I tell you, it worries me." Suddenly her broad face was wreathed in smiles. "One thing I did insist on, however, was cutting that poor man’s hair. With seven sons I’m as good as any barber in the state, and the pitiful creature would have drowned in his own sweat if I hadn’t taken shears and razor to him this morning." She turned to Trixie. "Would you believe it? That man is so devoted to his family and so short of cash, he hasn’t spared the money for a haircut for two months!" She slapped the arms of the rocker resoundingly. "Said it would be like taking food out of his babies’ mouths to go to a barber. I never heard the like, did you?"
    Trixie, on the verge of tears herself, nodded dumbly. I don’t care if he did steal that trailer, she told herself. Let the state troopers catch him. That’s their business.
    Honey broke the silence with, "Why couldn’t he get work in some other part of the state?"
    Mrs. Smith’s red face flamed with anger. "He had plenty of work until he hurt his eye in an accident and had to have an operation. Worked a successful farm down the river a way. But when he fell behind in his rent, the landlord threatened to evict him. Imagine it, with all those children!" Outraged, Mrs. Smith heaved herself to her feet. "And that reminds me. I must get those babies up for their juice and cod-liver oil."
    "We must be starting home," Honey said quickly. "We’ve outstayed our welcome."
    "We’ve had a lovely time," Trixie said. "And thanks for everything."
    "Come again soon," Mrs. Smith called to them and waved from the back door.
    The girls bridled their horses in a thoughtful silence, and Honey held Prince’s head while Trixie returned the halters and rope to the nail over the steps. Then she swung up on Prince’s back, and they trotted down the driveway to the main road.
    "We’re only about a mile from Autoville," Honey said. "I found that out when I went after Prince. The Smith farm is north and west of where the big routes converge. It seems funny to me that the state troopers haven’t stopped there to ask about a stolen red trailer."
    "It is funny," Trixie agreed. "Oh, Honey, do you think Mr. Darnell is Joeanne’s father?"
    Honey’s hazel eyes widened. "Why, how could you think anything else, Trixie? He must be the man with the crew cut who asked about her early this morning at Wilson Ranch."
    Trixie sighed. "Well, then, we’ve got to tell Mrs. Smith that Mr. Darnell stole that trailer, and we ought to notify the police, too."
    Honey squared her slim shoulders. "We won’t do anything of the kind, Trixie Belden. That family has had enough trouble without our adding to it. If you set the police on him, they’ll accuse him of all the other thefts. And I don’t think he stole the trailer. You know perfectly well Mrs. Smith said he only borrowed the Robin until he could find a home for his family."
    Honey