The Red Trailer Mystery

above the quiet sobs. Trixie could only hear snatches, but what she heard jarred her into wide-awakeness.
    "It’s got to be this way, I tell you. It’s the only way out—
    And then the woman, "Oh, no, Darney . It’s wrong. We should have known better. Look at what it’s doing already to Sally and Joeanne. I can’t bear it. You’ve got to take it back at once. It may already be too late." Trixie’s heart ached for the sobbing woman, and she pulled the sheet over her head to shut out the sound of the voices in the Robin . But the man was hoarsely whispering, "Don’t be an idiot. We’ve got to go ahead with it. No one will ever know. And as for Joeanne and Sally, you should have let me—"
    "Sh-h," the woman cautioned. "You’ll awaken them. Go to sleep now, Darney . We’ll talk about it again in the morning."
    "A fine thing," the man grumbled. "My own family turning against me! You were all for it in the beginning, Sarah."
    "I know, I know," the woman moaned. "But I didn’t realize then—"
    Whatever she was going to say was lost in muffled sobs. Then there was silence—a silence that made Trixie remember how, earlier, the family had sat together, staring vacantly into space.
    "What is the matter with that family?" she wondered, tossing and turning in the hot, humid air. "Why do they all act as though they don’t care what happens to them? What is it the mother thinks should be taken back before it’s too late?"
    Still wondering, Trixie dropped off to sleep, but again, much later, she was awakened by sounds from the other trailer. At first she thought she was still dreaming, but then gradually she realized with bewilderment that this time it was a man who was sobbing. His breath was coming and going in the choked gasps of someone whose spirit is broken!
    Trixie sat up, and, in spite of the heat, she felt icy little goose pimples of horror prickling her bare arms.
    Surely it couldn’t be the harsh-voiced, shaggy-haired man who was weeping! Then it must be someone else. Was it a helpless person who was being held against his will in the red trailer?
    Was he the something who should be returned before it was too late?
    Trixie, listening to the deep, regular breathing that was coming from the other bunks in the Swan, felt lonely and frightened. Should she wake Miss Trask and tell her that someone in the next trailer needed help? If the man who was sobbing in those dry-throated gasps had been kidnapped, the police should be notified at once.
    And then the sounds ceased, as though whoever it was had buried his face in a pillow—or, Trixie couldn’t help wondering, had suddenly been smothered into absolute silence.

A Rescue • 3

    IN spite of herself, Trixie fell into an exhausted sleep, still wondering about the mysterious occupants of the red trailer parked alongside the Swan. When she awoke, the sun was streaming through the rain-washed windows, and Miss Trask was dressed.
    "The dogs woke me at dawn," she said. "I let them out for a run. We may as well have breakfast at the hot-dog stand. It’ll save time."
    Honey was sleepily buttoning the front of her thin cotton shirt, the tail of which she had tucked inside her seersucker shorts. "It’s too hot for a jersey and slacks," she told Trixie. "I advise you to wear the coolest things you can find, and let’s open all the windows. It’s stifling in here."
    Trixie slipped into a white playsuit and helped Miss Trask open the windows they had closed during the rain in the night. Then they shut the dogs inside the trailer.
    "One good thing about Reddy," Trixie said as they hurried over to the hot-dog stand, "is that he won t try to jump through those screens and follow us. But he did go right through a window once. Remember, Honey?"
    Honey nodded. "I don’t think either of them will try to leave the trailer till we get back. At least I hope not. They’ve caused enough delays as it is."
    Honey sounded so hot and cross, and Miss Trask seemed to be in such a hurry to get started, that Trixie decided not to tell them about the sobbing she had heard from the next trailer until later. As she drank her orange juice and ate her cereal, everything seemed so peaceful and quiet in the trailer camp that Trixie began to wonder if perhaps she had dreamed the mysterious conversation she had half listened to the night before.
    When they came out of the hot-dog stand, she saw at once that the red trailer, which only a few minutes ago had been parked beside the Swan, was