The Red Trailer Mystery

was emphatically expressing Trixie’s own innermost thoughts on the subject, so she did not argue. But she could not stop the pricking of her conscience. Kindhearted Mrs. Smith at least ought to be told that she was entertaining a thief in her home.
    Unhappily Trixie walked her horse along the macadam road beside Honey. Deep down inside her she knew that she would have to return to the Smith farm the first thing in the morning.

An Early Morning Call • 9

    As THE GIRLS turned into the entrance to the trailer camp, a uniformed attendant at the gate handed Honey a letter.
    "Airmail from Canada," he said, "and horses aren’t allowed here. Would you like for me to return ’em for you?"
    Honey slipped off Peanuts’s back. "Oh, that would be wonderful," she said gratefully. "We’re terribly tired, and I’m dying to open this envelope. It’s from my mother."
    The attendant grinned and led the horses away. "Hurry up and read it, Honey," Trixie begged even before she got out of the saddle. She said again as they strolled toward the Swan, "Hurry! I can’t wait to hear what she has to say about Jim."
    Honey read the letter.

"Dear Honey,
"Your father asked me to write you that he is seriously considering the matter of adopting Winthrop Frayne’s son, Jim. I am not at all sure that it would be a good idea, but I thought you would like to know that we received your letter.
"Miss Trask writes that you are very well and are having a good time.
"Much love from us both,
"Mother"

    Honey crumpled the letter into a tight ball. Tears welled up in her eyes. "That’s that," she gulped. "I knew Mother would be against it."
    Trixie patted her chum’s shoulder. "Don’t feel too disappointed, Honey," she begged. "We haven’t even found Jim yet, and when we do and introduce him to your mother, maybe she’ll feel differently about it." Honey was crying in earnest now. "I don’t think we are going to find him or Joeanne, and the next thing you know the police will arrest Mr. Darnell before he can return the Robin to that man who left it all hitched up and ready to go." She stopped and buried her face in the crook of her arm. "Oh, I wish we had never come on this trip. I never knew there were so many unhappy people in the world."
    Trixie tried to comfort her, but she felt so miserable herself she could hardly keep back her own tears. All that evening after she had gone to bed, she tossed and turned, trying to make up her mind. "I can’t turn that starving Darnell family over to the police," she finally decided. "Anyway, not until I’ve made sure that their trailer is the Robin."
    It was still quite dark when she awoke in the morning after a troubled sleep. The sun was just beginning to paint the patches between the trees a reddish gold. Trixie dressed quietly and slipped out of the Swan without even disturbing the dogs.
    "Honey is too unhappy already," she told herself aloud as she trudged along the road. "If I find out the Darnell’s trailer is the Robin, I won’t tell anybody but Mrs. Smith. I’ll let her notify the police."
    Birds were chirping in the trees, and every now and then a truck whizzed past, but the rest of the world seemed to be sound asleep. Trixie knew that farmers arose with the chickens, so she guessed that the Smith household would be at breakfast when she arrived.
    She had walked hardly half a mile north of where the Autoville road came out on the main highway, when she slowly realized that there was something familiar about the woods on her right. And then it dawned on her that she was standing only a few yards from where she had discovered the mysterious van’s hiding place.
    "Those bridle trails certainly do run around in circles." She chuckled as she gazed into the clearing. "Honey and I had no idea we were so near home when we found that net."
    There was no sign of the net now, and the heap of evergreen branches had been tom down. "Honey and I didn’t notice the clearing yesterday," Trixie muttered, "because on our way back from the Smiths’ we were riding on the other side of the road. And Sunday afternoon we were so busy looking for bicycle tracks we didn’t realize that the road to Pine Hollow is only a stone’s throw north of the road to Autoville. Our only other excuse for being so dumb is that, after all, we were asleep when Miss Trask arrived at the trailer camp the night before, so neither of us had seen the entrance from the main road until yesterday."
    She laughed to herself as she