The Sasquatch Mystery

made up his mind in a hurry about a hiding place. He didn’t know we had gone to the saddle. For all he knew, we were all over the place. He’d want to ditch that nugget bag where he could keep track of it and I wouldn’t see it. Right?”
    “Makes sense,” Knut agreed.
    Trixie stood up. “I move we adjourn the meeting, go back to the fire, and retrace Cap’s route.”
    “Adjourned,” Jim declared.
    Back at the fire, the group found Miss Trask sitting in a camp chair, staring into space.
    “Is there something wrong, Miss Trask?” Honey asked.
    “I’ve been trying to reconstruct yesterday’s scene in my mind. There must have been something I could have done to help Cap, but I can’t imagine what.”
    Honey spoke for the group. “Maybe you can help now, Miss Trask. Can you show us exactly where Cap crossed the campground?”
    “Certainly,” Miss Trask said. She walked past the fire pit to the very edge of the campground. She turned to wave to the group, called, “I’ll be right back,” and walked on to the spot where the goatsbeard, pipsissewa, and ferns were broken and torn on the creek bank.
    Up to that point, Miss Trask had moved briskly, sure of herself. Now she dropped her hands to her sides and said, “I don’t know where he went from there.”
    “Did he do anything? Say anything?” Trixie prodded.
    “He defended himself. The beast from the forest made noise—grunting and sounds of struggle —but no screams of pain or anger. I really don’t know what it was trying to force Cap to do.”
    “Can you duplicate any of the action?” Jim asked.
    Miss Trask thought hard, but shook her head.
    “Once Cap raised his hand,” Di recalled.
    “Could he have thrown the nugget bag?” Knut asked alertly.
    “I suppose so,” Di said, her face brightening.
    “Which way was he facing?” Trixie asked. “Toward the road or away from it?”
    “Toward,” Miss Trask told them.
    “Come on, gang!” Trixie shouted.
    The young people spread out in a fan, prepared to look into, over, under, and around every obstruction.
    Trixie waved her white mitts and fumed, “Brian, how long do I have to wear this stuff?”
    With skillful, gentle fingers, Brian unwrapped Trixie’s hands and checked each wound. “If you promise not to climb a pine tree, I’ll just do some spot-taping,” he told her.
    Trixie wiggled her fingers, enjoying their freedom. “I promise, I promise.”
    After Brian had applied waterproof tape to the sorest spots, he ran with Trixie to catch up with the search that was going on.
    “Have you found anything yet?” Trixie yelled.
    “An ant hill!” Di squeaked.
    “Diana, you goose, that isn’t an ant hill,” Hallie snorted. “Somebody’s littering again.”
    “Don’t look at me!” Mart said hastily. “I’ve had my lecture. I learn fast.”
    Trixie thought of the food thief. Cap’s disappearance had pushed out of her mind Trixie’s determination to search for the thief. “Is it another broken egg?” she called.
    “Ugh! Come and see for yourself,” Di said. “I simply don’t understand why you and Hallie are interested in messy, squirmy, crawling things!”
    Trixie raced over and prodded a scrap of food of some kind with a stick. She watched ants try to snip off morsels, even while their world shifted under their feet.
    “Oh, it’s just a cookie,”. Trixie said. Then she noticed its thickness and color. “It’s a cookie!” she shouted. “One of Tank’s cookies!”

The Stone-Thrower • 14

    THAT PROVES IT,” said Knut. “Cap was at Tank’s cabin. He must have brought Tank’s nugget bag back with him.”
    “How big is a nugget bag?” Di asked.
    Hallie measured an oblong of air, approximately the size of a slice of bread. “It’s made of doeskin and tied with a thong.”
    “So little?” Di looked doubtful. “I thought—”
    “I suppose you were hunting for a shopping bag,” Hallie scoffed. “Do you have any idea how much that much gold would weigh?”
    “An inordinate amount,” said Mart, all set to launch into a technical discussion.
    “Stop it, Mart,” Hallie begged. “I search better when there’s nothing on my mind. You know what I mean.” To Trixie, she muttered, “So does Di.”
    “Ssh, Hallie,” Trixie warned. “You should be glad Di’s helping! After all, she did find the egg and the cookie.”
    Hallie’s grin was almost normal. “And the pack rat likes her enough to give her nuggets and safety pins!”
    Knowing that the