The Sasquatch Mystery

drawled. She walked toward Trixie, waving as if to test Trixie’s vision. Then she reached the chest and looked down into it. “You aren’t kidding!”
    “What’s supposed to be in there?” Trixie asked. “A ham, bacon, eggs.” Hallie raised her voice. “Miss Trask, our larder has been raided!”
    Crisply efficient, even at this early morning hour, Miss Trask joined the girls. “My word,” she said. “Perhaps one of the boys has pulled a prank. Mart, perhaps?”
    “Oh, I saw what happened,” Trixie groaned, “but then I had to go and fall asleep before I could see who. Oh, Miss Trask, please don’t walk around till we see what kind of tracks were left. What we need is an experienced tracker.”
    A tousled head appeared through a tent opening. “Be right with you,” called Cap.
    Trixie hopped back to her tent and dressed as fast as she could. Even so, Cap was already talking to Miss Trask and the others when Trixie hurried back to the kitchen area.
    Briefly Trixie told what she had seen in the night. As she talked, her mind raced—raising some questions, answering them, asking more. Suddenly she burst out, “It doesn’t make sense that an animal would have taken egg cartons! Wouldn’t it have bumbled around, making a mess, trying to pick up a pawful of eggs?”
    “The wrappings are gone, too,” Honey added alertly. “I should think an animal would have been attracted by the meat odor and would have torn off the wrappings.”
    The partners of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency traded a glance. Aha! their eyes said. Now, here’s a mystery that isn’t two million years old — let’s go!
    Mart saw the glance, but before he could tease, Trixie snapped, “Don’t tell us, Mart Belden, that you’re not just as upset about missing food as we are!”
    “Possibly more,” Mart admitted.
    Breakfast-making was held up until the whole campground had been examined. When Cap whistled through his teeth to call everyone back to the table, it was to report that no animal, not even a bear cub, had visited camp.
    “Guess you don’t count pack rats,” Hallie drawled. “I heard one on our tent roof last night.”
    “Hallie, you didn’t.” Di wailed.
    “Don’t worry, Diana. If he steals your family jewels, he always leaves something in trade.” Hallie marched off to the tent, calling back, “Let’s just see what it is.”
    Minutes later Hallie returned. “I don’t know what the rat stole, but he sure as shootin’ left a prize.” With tantalizing slowness, she spread long, thin fingers and exposed a small object in her palm.
    “A rock,” Mart said with disgust.
    “Look closer,” Hallie urged.
    “A medium-sized, unexciting, downright boring rock,” Mart declared.
    Knut took the stone and held it to the light, turning it several times. “I hope the rat visits me tonight!” he exclaimed. “A few nuggets always come in handy.”
    “Nuggets?” Trixie squealed. “You mean gold?”
    “That’s the best kind,” said Knut.
    “Where do you suppose he found it?” Brian asked, from the area where he was making pancake batter.
    “He sure as heck didn’t snipe for it,” Hallie drawled.
    “There you go, talking over my head again,” complained Di.
    “A sniper is a prospector who doesn’t bother to stake a claim,” said Knut.
    “I thought a sniper sat in a tree and took potshots at people,” Brian said.
    “That’s not what it means in mining country,” Knut said. “Crevice mining is a specialized type of placer mining. You see, one of the best places to find gold is in the crevices of the bedrock. Ever since the glaciers melted, gold has been collecting in those cracks. You even find gold in roots of trees reached by fast water during spring runoff. Another good place to look is in a dry creek bed.”
    “Maybe that’s where the pack rat found it,” Di said.
    “Pack rats are smart, but not that smart,” Cap said. “They’re just curious. They’re attracted by shiny objects, but they can carry only one thing at a time. When they see something they like, they just put down object number one and trot on with object number two.”
    “How big’s a pack rat?” asked Jim.
    Cap measured air between his hands. “Oh, about eighteen inches, and half of that length is tail. They’re just big rats.”
    Di made a face.
    “Enough about rats,” Brian ordered. “Who’s ready for my pancakes?”
    Mart and Cap scrambled for first helpings, and the others were quick to join