The secret of the Mansion

fish," Honey said quickly. "And I wouldn’t touch a horrible squirming worm for anything!"
    The word "Sissy!" was on the tip of Trixie’s tongue, but she caught herself just in time. "I’ll put the worms on the hook," she said. "We can have a lot of fun. Brian and Mart and I have caught a lot of fish off the boathouse. You see," she explained, "the Manor House has been empty for so many years we got so we thought of the lake as belonging to our property."
    "I want you to keep right on thinking that, Trixie," Honey cried impulsively. "You and your brothers must come here as often as you like."
    "Great," Trixie said. "We can skate on it in winter and toboggan down your hill." They were in the woods now and Trixie added, "I can hardly wait to see what it’s like inside the Miser’s Mansion. I’ve always wanted to know whether he really is a miser or just a poor old grouch."
    "It looks as though the house has been empty for years," Honey said as they approached the Frayne property. "Why, the upstairs windows are so covered with dirt you can’t see through them. And just look at the way everything has grown up around here. It’s a regular wilderness except for that little space right around the house."
    The trail ended at the boundary line between the two properties, which was marked by a thick hedge interlaced with heavy vines. A narrow path wound from this point down the hill to the hollow and Crabapple Farm.
    "Let’s tie our horses to this tree," Trixie said as she slid out of the saddle, "and push our way through the hedge. If we go around to the driveway, somebody might see us and wonder what we’re doing."
    "I wouldn’t dare crawl through that underbrush," Honey said as she dismounted. "It’s probably alive with snakes."
    Trixie paid no attention to her and started through the hedge. "Wonder whatever happened to the summerhouse where Mrs. Frayne got bitten by the copperhead," she said, tugging at a ropelike vine. "It must have been right about here if Mother could see it plainly from the garden down in the hollow."
    "Copperhead!" Honey had forced herself to take a few steps after Trixie, but now she stopped, shaking with horror. "Are there copperheads around here?"
    "Sure." Trixie shrugged. "But they won t hurt you unless you bother them."
    "I can’t stand snakes," Honey insisted with a shiver. "And copperheads are poisonous. I wouldn’t want to be bitten by one of them."
    "You won’t be bitten, Honey," Trixie assured her, pushing ahead.
    "I’m not so sure of that." Honey cringed as a vine slapped against her face. "Didn’t you just say that Mrs. Frayne got bitten?"
    "That was in the summerhouse," Trixie said. "And the summerhouse seems to have disappeared. Anyway, it was one of those things that happens once in a lifetime."
    "Once is enough," Honey said with a nervous giggle as she gingerly took another step forward. At that moment, die underbrush sprang to life as a loud squawking sound rent the silence, and something black and angry flapped against Honey’s legs. Honey screamed in terror and grabbed Trixie’s arm.
     

A Scream and a Dog • 3
     
    TRIXIE WAS so startled herself that, for a moment, she stood stock-still. Then she laughed with relief as she saw that their attacker was Queenie, the little black game hen. With Honey still clinging to her arm, Trixie shouted, "Come on!" and pushed the rest of the way into the clearing. Queenie flung herself at Honey’s legs once more, then, squawking like an irate fury, darted across the courtyard. The other hens immediately took up the chorus, fluttering and cackling in wild confusion as they scattered in all directions. From the safety of the woods on the other side of the house, the bright-colored gamecock flapped his wings and crowed defiantly.
    "What in the world was that?" Honey asked weakly. "I never was so scared in all my life."
    "Nothing but a little black hen," Trixie said. "Why, you’re shaking like a leaf. I was kind of scared myself," she admitted. "In another minute, she would have flown in our faces. It was a good thing you had boots on. She would have scratched your legs plenty."
    "Oh, please, Trixie," Honey pleaded. "Let’s go home. She may come back any minute."
    Trixie burst into laughter. "Don’t be such a fraidy-cat, Honey. She wouldn’t have come near us if she hadn’t thought we were after her eggs. She must have a nest somewhere around here, and she won’t come near this spot again for a long time for fear we might