The Sasquatch Mystery

local animal with hair that other color is coyote. I don’t know how they came to be all mixed up together, but that’s what they are—deer, bear, and coyote.” He blew on the fur and looked more closely. “And thread,” he added.
    “Thread? You mean they’re sewn together?” Trixie asked.
    “Yes, and it’s a pro job,” Ron said.
    “The scrap with the thread is from Tank’s hasp,” Trixie observed.
    “Then I’d say you have your answer to the order Knut picked up,” said Ron. “Tank may have been making something, ran out of thread, and ordered more.”
    “Something big,” Honey pointed out. “That zipper is extra long.” Honey dangled the zipper in front of her own slim body, then against Jim, who was approximately the same height as Tank Anderson.
    “I haven’t had a zipper this long since I wore snowsuits and built snowmen,” Jim said.
    “Snowsuits?” Trixie asked, her thoughts racing wildly. “Tank was making a snowsuit?”
    “It’s a very practical thing to have in Joe country,” Hallie chided. “After all, we have as much snow here as you do in Sleepyside, and it isn’t shoved out of the way by snow removal equipment....” Hallie’s voice dwindled to a halt as she watched Trixie’s face. She waited impatiently for Trixie to react to her sarcasm.
    But Trixie hadn’t heard a word Hallie had said. “The sasquatch!” she shouted. “He was wearing a snowsuit!”
    “Trixie,” Miss Trask said gently, “maybe you’d better rest a while and let me finish getting breakfast.”
    “Wait!” Trixie said, explaining hastily. “I didn’t mean that the sasquatch was wearing a snowsuit, but that a man was! He was trying to make us think he was a sasquatch! When he ran from the bear, I saw something glitter. That must’ve been a flashlight.”

Deer-Trail Shortcut• 18

    ARE—ARE YOU SUGGESTING that Tank made that suit so he could dress up like a sasquatch and scare us?” Honey asked in utter disbelief .
    Trixie shook her head vigorously. “No, someone else is trying to scare us—the same person who stole Tank’s snowsuit, messed up his cabin, and made off with Cap and Tank.”
    “You could be right!” exclaimed Knut. “Except that’s an awful lot for one person to do.”
    “And what’s his motive?” asked Jim.
    “Gold,” Trixie guessed shrewdly. “Tank’s gold.”
    Di’s thoughts were still on the masquerading sasquatch. “I just can’t get over that that was a man who chased us down the road and threw rocks at us! I think that’s mean!” She turned to stare at the inky dark. “And he’s out there right now, waiting to plunk us with that slingshot.”
    “Thank goodness he has a slingshot and not a gun,” Trixie began. Her words died. One of those fur scraps had been caught in the door of the old station wagon, where the sasquatch-hunter stood guard with a shotgun. She licked her lips and said, as if arguing with herself, “The fake sasquatch can’t be Opie Swisher. He wouldn’t have had time to get dressed up and chase us down the road.”
    “You mean Fred Swisher,” Mart said.
    “Opie Swisher,” Trixie repeated. “The one who asked us to baby-sit his kids.”
    “Are we talking about the same guy?” Mart demanded. “Fred Swisher ate our biscuits, remember?”
    “Two Swishers!” Trixie whispered. “Of course!”
    “Are you suggesting,” asked Brian, “that those two characters who came into camp Tuesday have caused all this trouble and may know where Cap is?”
    “Exactly,” Trixie agreed. “And Tank, too.” Jim’s mouth tightened. “Then what are we waiting for?”
    “We need a plan,” Honey urged.
    “First we block the road,” Hallie said. “Let’s turn the truck across it.”
    Knut agreed and added to the plan. “Near the bridge there’s a tree that leans out across the road. Ron, you can chop that down while Jim puts the truck across the road at the foot of the hill. Brian, Mart, and I will close in on the station wagon. Trixie, you have to show us where the wagon is, and the rest of you will be stationed along the road as lookouts, in case the men run.”
    “I’m not sure I can do that,” Di faltered.
    “You kicked a bear, remember?” Mart reminded her.
    “That was an accident,” Di gulped, but she buttoned her heavy sweater to the throat and reached for her flashlight. She had a reputation to protect.
    “We’ll use the Bob-White signal,” Honey said and gave a demonstration.
    Miss Trask’s station was the