The Red Trailer Mystery

kid," Jeff was shouting. "He lives up there in that big white farmhouse. His old man gave him a licking on account of he played hooky from Sunday school. So he runs away and hides in this barn. A couple of nights away from home, and he’s had enough. So he goes back, but first he starts a nice slow leak on us and swipes our jack, just for the heck of it. I can tell a farm boy when I see one."
    Al’s face turned pale. "He did look husky," he admitted slowly. "And unless he lives around here, how would he have known about this barn? It was only sheer luck that I saw it myself when I was covering the top of the van with branches so it wouldn’t be noticed from the road."
    "That’s what I keep trying to tell you," Jeff bellowed triumphantly.
    "You fool!" Al hissed. "If you were smart enough to figure all that out, why didn’t you tell me before we got stuck in the woods right off the main highway two miles from a trailer we’d just dismantled?"
    "You didn’t give me a chance," Jeff snarled. "I wanted to tie him and gag him last night. Remember? But I didn’t think he’d pull no trick on us right away.
    I figure like you—maybe he doesn’t guess we’re not in a legit racket. I don’t remember just what he heard us say last night."
    He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I ain’t too worried about the kid myself until we get that flat, and I open the van door and find the jack missing."
    Suddenly Al, losing control of himself completely, hit him. Jeff staggered from the blow on his chin, and Al slapped him hard across one cheek. "You numbskull," he screamed. "I can tell you what he heard us say last night. He heard us say the hullaballoo over that missing red trailer was ruining our racket. People aren’t careless anymore. They don’t park on side roads with their keys in the tow car and go off for a nice long swim. So we have to think of something else or quit. We decide to try the old hitchhiker gag. You heard the manager back at the cafeteria talking about a reservation for a salesman who’s due to deliver a big luxury trailer to Autoville around noon. So I wait farther up the highway and thumb a ride from the driver. I show him a shortcut, and when we turn into the side road I tap him lightly on the head. Then you drive up alongside, and we hitch the trailer to the van. We leave the man in the tow car on the side road, and we take the trailer into the woods."
    Al’s voice had risen to an outraged bellow. "That’s what the redheaded kid heard us say! Why didn’t you tell me he looked like a farm kid? Don’t you see, blockhead, he stole the jack this morning, then he came back a little while ago and fixed that tire so we’d frame ourselves nicely. The air leaked out just enough so we could hitch ourselves to the trailer and get into the woods a way, but there we are, just as the kid planned it, stuck to the evidence that will land us both in jail for sure."
    Jeff's face turned white between the red welts on one cheek. "Th-then you m-mean the tr-troopers are on their way here n-now?" he stuttered.
    "Of course not," Al roared. "They would have been waiting for us when we came back for the jack if the kid had notified them. Like you say, the boy did it just for the heck of it, and now he’s having a good laugh. Here we are with all this loot and no means of getting away with it. But the troopers have probably found the van by now, and sooner or later the redhead will lead them to this barn."
    Jeff rubbed his reddened cheek dazedly. "I’m getting away now," he said slowly. "Loot or no loot."
    "How far do you think you’ll get?" Al sneered. "You with your prison record! If you don’t show up when it’s time for you to go on duty at the cafeteria, the troopers will put two and two together and get right on your trail. And that’s just what I want them to do, except that I don’t want them to find you until I’ve had a chance to board a plane and fly to the coast. If you take it on the lam now, they’ll pick you up before dark, and then you’d squeal, you rat, and I wouldn’t have a chance." He laughed and took a menacing step toward Jeff.
    Jeff cowered against a stall door. "Wh-what are you going to do?"
    "Tie you up and gag you, of course," Al said quietly. "And then I’ll put you in the big oat bin. Nobody will think of looking in there when the kid gets around to showing the troopers our hideout. And when they do find you, you won’t have enough breath left to sing." Jeff