Part II

The stable was dark and quiet.  Trixie could hear the horses moving quietly about in their stalls.  On the way to Regan’s office, Trixie stopped to talk to Susie, her favorite of all the horses.  She stroked Susie’s nose while talking to her in a soft voice.  “I will bring you a carrot next time I visit .  I promise, my little Susie girl.  But right now, I’m  trying to solve a mystery,” Trixie whispered.

Leaving the horse, the two girls made their way through the stable until they reached the office.  Trixie rapped quickly on the door.  Without waiting for an answer, she pushed it open and saw Regan sitting at his desk.

“Hi Regan, how are you?” Trixie called out.

Regan looked up from his desk at the two girls.  His gaze flickered back to Trixie’s eager face.  He tossed his pencil down and leaned back in his chair.  “All right, what is it this time, Trixie?”

Trixie tried to make her face look as innocent as possible.  “I don’t know what you mean, Regan,” she said.

“Every time you start out a conversation concerned about how I am, that usually means something is up.”

Regan looked at both girls.  Neither of them said a word..  They stared at Regan, and then down at the floor.

“Oh Regan,” Honey blurted out, ”we think there is a crazy person running around the preserve leaving strange coded notes.”

Trixie looked at Honey in surprise.  “Honey,” she cried.  “I thought we were going to ask questions, not spill the beans.”

Honey looked back at Trixie.  “Sorry.  I just got so panicked all of a sudden.”

“So,” continued Trixie as she returned her attention to Regan. “Have you seen anything odd in the preserve.”

“You mean Honey is serious?” asked Regan

The girls nodded and told Regan of the open schoolhouse and the paper that Trixie had found.  Regan sat quietly in his chair as he listened to the girls.  Then he sat and thought about his rides through the trails.  He was sure that he had not seen anything unusual or out of the ordinary.

“Has anybody spoken to Dan?” Regan queried.

“Dan and I went to the schoolhouse before I came up here.  He didn’t have any answers for me either,”  Trixie replied.

After several more minutes of questions and answers among the three, the girls concluded that Regan had no information to offer them.  As they turned to leave the stable, Regan stopped them,  “And no going off alone in the preserve until we figure out what is going on,” he told them sternly.  He pointed his finger at Trixie, then at Honey, and then back to Trixie.

Trixie protested, “Why did you point to me twice, Regan?”

“Because I know you.  You’ll probably move into the preserve now so you can catch whoever you think might be out there.”

Trixie muttered a few more incoherent words while she and Honey wandered out of the stable.

“Now what should we do, Trixie?”  Honey asked.

Trixie shrugged.  They couldn’t decipher the pieces of paper and nobody else seemed to have seen anything unusual in the preserve.  The two girls blinked at the bright sunshine as they crossed the driveway toward the Manor House.  They were going back into the house, when a nearby voice stopped them.

“And what are the two super sleuths up to, this fine and beautiful Saturday afternoon?” asked Mart.

Trixie grimaced as she recognized her brother’s voice behind her.

Honey and Trixie both spun around to face Mart, pleasant smiles pasted on their faces

“Well, that seals the deal,” said Mart.

“What are you talking about?” growled Trixie.

“Dear younger sister of mine,  if Honey turns to me and smiles, then I would say to myself that she is a lovely person and is happy to see me.  But if you turn and smile at me, then I think you are up to something,” Mart explained.

“What could we possibly be up to?  We just saw you an hour ago?” asked Honey.

“I know my sister.  She is up here acting sweet to me when I know she is supposed to be home helping young Robert clean his personal dwelling.  Ergo, she is up to something.”  Mart said smugly.

“Oh that brother and his stupid room.  Gleeps!  Why can’t he clean it himself?  When I was his age, I had to dust the entire house as well as keep my room clean,” complained Trixie.

“Yes, yes, we know younger sister.  So again, what are you two up to?” questioned Mart.

Trixie and Honey looked at each other, trying to decide if they should tell Mart about the papers and the possibility of a trespasser in the preserve.  They shrugged at each other and invited Mart up onto the veranda, where Trixie explained how she had found the old schoolhouse open the day before and the benches rearranged.  She also told Mart about the papers with the strange lettering on them.  In response to Mart’s dubious look, Trixie slid the folded papers out of her pocket and showed them to him.  He studied them, turned them around, flipped them over before announcing that he had no idea what they said.

“What do you think we should do now?” asked Honey anxiously.

“Well,” Mart began, “we could go talk to Dan to see if he knows anything.”

“I already did that,” Trixie said quickly, “And he doesn’t know anything, either.”

“We could go talk to Regan,” Mart continued.

“We just came from doing that.  Nobody has seen anything unusual in the preserve.  But how did the benches in the schoolhouse get moved around or the feed put on the floor?  And who left these papers, not to mention the trash?”

“Hmmmm, “ Mart sighed thoughtfully.  “Well, the trash could have blown there from Glen Road.”

Trixie folded her arms across her chest.  “Then explain the rest,” she challenged Mart.

Mart glanced up at Trixie.  He quickly looked back at the papers in his hands and ignored his sister’s question.  “And why would somebody be hanging out in the old schoolhouse?  Why not go to some further part of the preserve?  Dan and Mr. Maypenny are always going in and out of the schoolhouse,” Mart puzzled aloud.

“That’s the mystery, dear brother.  Who’s been using the old schoolhouse and why,” Trixie said pointedly.

Honey and Trixie settled into the glider and Mart plopped down onto a chair in the shade of the veranda.  They continued to speculate on who could have been in the preserve, why the mystery person was in the preserve and what the papers meant.  Mart was going into a long explanation of how to decipher codes when Honey stood up.

“If you two will excuse me, I’m just going to run into the house.  I’ll only be gone for a minute.”

“Nice Honey,” said Trixie sarcastically.  “And I suppose I shall just sit here and listen to my mouthy brother jibber jabber?”

“Well, I thought somebody might want a snack,” explained Honey.

“A snack?” Trixie questioned.  “We just had chocolate cupcakes an hour ago.”

“I know, but I thought that if I did something else, maybe my mind would see things differently.  Besides, I’m sure Mart would love a snack,”   Honey said with a giggle.

“But of course,” Mart exclaimed.  “It has been an hour since I last added some sustenance to my body.  I could definitely use some additional nutrition.”  Mart grinned at Trixie, who just rolled her eyes.

“A whole hour, Mart.  One hour!!   How did you ever survive?”  Trixie groused.

A few minutes later, Honey returned with a tray that held three frosty glasses of lemonade and a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“Ahhhh, just what I needed,” said Mart as he took two cookies and bit into both of them.  “Delicious and delectable as usual, Miss Wheeler,” complimented Mart.

The three returned to their discussion and theorizing until they could come up with no more possibilities.

“I wish we had some sort of video surveillance or something like that in the preserve,” said Honey.

Mart looked up at Honey and quickly glanced at the watch on his arm. “Well, that’s it for me,” he said and abruptly stood up.

“Why?  Where are you going?” asked Honey.

“I am taking the beautiful Diana to the movies tonight.  I thank Honey for reminding me of my romantic commitment through her mentioning of video surveillance.  I need to go home and finish mowing the familial grounds so that I will be able to pick Diana up at the appointed hour,” said Mart.  “And you, dear sister, really need to go help Bobby with his personal abode.”

“Yeah, yeah.  I know,” Trixie sighed grumpily.  “I just want to solve this mystery and yet it seems that the only thing I am supposed to do is help Bobby clean his stupid room.”  Trixie pulled the elastic ponytail holder out of her hair and ran her hands through her tresses.  Shaking her head, she muttered to herself how unfair life could be when one had a younger, messier sibling.  Honey and Mart listened to Trixie for a minute and then they burst out laughing.

“Oh Trixie, you are always carrying on about something regarding Bobby.  You know that I think he is adorable,” Honey said.

“If you think he is so cute, then why don’t you come help?” Trixie demanded of her friend.

“Because,” Honey pointed out, “I am working on the next Bob-White project.”

Trixie frowned at her best friend’s logic.  “Whatever,” she shrugged.  Jumping off the veranda, Trixie headed down the path toward Crabapple Farm.  “I’ll call you later, Honey,” she yelled to her friend.

“Wait for me,” cried Mart as he ran to join his sister.  Honey watched as the two raced each other down the hill toward the home below.

Trixie cringed as the back door to the kitchen slammed shut after she entered the room.

“Trixie!” her mother called out.

“Sorry about the door, Moms,” Trixie answered.

“All right.  Just try to remember next time.”  Moms smiled at Trixie.  “I need you to do me a favor, dear.”

“I know.  I know.  I have to go help Bobby clean his room.”

“You can do that later.  But now, I need you to run to Lytell’s to get some baked beans for dinner.”

“Okay Moms,” Trixie answered, happy to have the room cleaning project delayed.  She grabbed her mom’s car keys and slid behind the wheel of the minivan.  Her voice sang out with the cranked up radio as she drove down the road to Lytell’s store.  She pulled into the small parking lot and stopped the car.  Trixie hopped out of the vehicle and ran up the old wooden steps and into the small general store.  Mr. Lytell looked up as he heard the tinkling of the bell over the door.  He frowned slightly at his customer,  “Oh, hello Trixie.  What can I help you with?”

“Moms needs a couple of cans of baked beans,” she replied as she went and grabbed some from the shelves.  Walking over to the counter, she stacked them up in front of Mr. Lytell and waited for him to ring them up.  Trixie fidgeted while the storekeeper began entering numbers into the old cash register.  Suddenly, Trixie whirled around and walked over to the cooler where the soda was stored.  Sorting through the bottles, she grinned when she found a strawberry flavored one.  She took it back to the counter and placed it beside the beans.  Mr. Lytell peered over his glasses at Trixie’s satisfied grin.

“Hmmmph, is that to be added to your mother’s order?”he asked gruffly.

Trixie nodded and he quickly added the soda to the beans.  With barely a smile, he put the cans into a bag and sent her on her way.

 Trixie walked through the old door and exhaled loudly, relieved to be out of the store.  She unscrewed the soda and was tossing the cap into the trash can at the side of the parking lot when she froze.  Lying on top of the trash was a paper covered with the rows and columns of letters.  Trixie reached in and grabbed the piece of paper.  Trixie set the bag of beans down and pulled out the two pieces of paper from her pocket.  She compared them with the one she had just found and concluded that they matched.  Trixie began digging through the trash can in search of more pieces of paper. She was stopped by the annoyed voice of Mr. Lytell.

“Miss Belden, what are you doing now?  Surely your mother taught you better manners than to dig through a garbage can,” he hollered.

Trixie looked up.  “Mr. Lytell,” she yelled, “have you seen any strangers hanging around?”

“No, I have not seen any strangers around here, Trixie.  And unless you need anything else, I think you should get along home.  I’m sure your mother will be looking for you.”

Mr. Lytell turned and walked back into his little store, letting the door slam behind him.  Trixie stared into the trash can for a few minutes more.  She wanted to continue digging but was sure that Mr. Lytell was still watching her.  She didn’t want him phoning her mother to report on her actions so Trixie picked up the beans and soda, hopped into the car and drove back down Glen Road toward Crabapple Farm.

Trixie dashed into the kitchen and dropped the beans on the counter.  She deftly slipped the car keys over the hook where Moms kept them and ran up to her room.  The thundering of her feet on the stairs alerted Bobby that Trixie was home.  He quickly came out of his room and met her at the top of the stairs.

“Are you ready now, Trix?  Are we gonna clean my room?” he asked.

Trixie sighed in frustration.  Her mind was set on examining the new paper she had found at Lytell’s store and not on cleaning Bobby’s room.  “Oh Bobby,” she said.  “I am right in the middle of something.  Can we do it a little later?”

“Okay,” said Bobby.  “Hey Trixie, maybe I can help you with whatever you doing,” he suggested hopefully.

“Sorry Bobby.  This is adult work.  I don’t think you would understand it.”

Bobby stepped back into his room, a pout on his young face.  “You always say that, Trixie.  I bet I could help you.”

“How about next time?” Trixie suggested.

Bobby responded by slamming his door in her face.  Trixie shrugged her shoulders and went into her own room, closing her door behind her.

In the privacy of her room, Trixie laid all three papers out on her desk.  After thoroughly examining them all together, she was certain that they had been made by the same person.  Trixie was becoming more convinced that she had stumbled onto a big mystery, maybe even one that involved spies.  “Here I am, trying to solve this case, and all anybody wants me to do is to help Bobby clean his room,” she muttered.

Trixie stacked the papers into a neat pile and pulled out her cell phone.  She quickly typed in Honey’s number and paced around her room while the phone rang.  “Honey, you will never guess what happened,” Trixie said excitedly when Honey answered.

“What?”

“I had to run to Lytell’s  for Moms and I found another piece of paper that matches the ones I found in the preserve.”

“What?  Where did you find the paper?” asked Honey.

“It was outside Lytell’s store, in the trash can,” answered Trixie.

“In the trash can?” Honey questioned.  “What made you look in the trash can for more pieces of paper?”

Trixie recounted the tale of how she purchased a strawberry soda and was tossing the bottle’s cap into the trash can when she spied the paper.  “What do you think, Honey?  I wanted to keep searching ,but thanks to a certain person, that became impossible.” Trixie told her friend.

After a pause, Trixie heard Honey giggle into the phone.  “Oh Trixie, let me guess.  I bet you were digging through the trash and Mr. Lytell caught you.  Right?”

“Of course,” Trixie giggled back at Honey.  “Isn’t that the way my luck runs?”

The two girls continued to talk about the papers, each one getting more excited as they tried to come up with some more theories.  They were interrupted by Trixie’s mother calling up the stairs.

“Trixie, have you finished with Bobby’s room yet?”

Trixie rolled her eyes.  She pulled her phone away from her mouth and yelled back to her mother.

“Not yet.”

“Trixie!” Moms yelled firmly.

“Hey Honey,” Trixie said into her phone. “I gotta go help the little monster clean his room.”

“You haven't done that yet?” asked Honey.

“No,” Trixie sighed.  “It’s not exactly at the top of my list of fun things to do today.”

“Go hurry up and help him clean his room, Trixie.  Then maybe you can spend the night here and we can work on this mystery.”

“Ooh Honey. That sounds perfectly perfect!”

Trixie hung up her phone and opened her bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway.  She was just about to knock on Bobby’s door when she heard Mart coming up the stairs.  She quickly dashed back into her room and grabbed the new piece of paper she had found.  As Mart landed on the top step, an excited Trixie thrust the paper into his hands.  “Look Mart.  I found another paper.”

Mart stopped and looked at the paper, his expression puzzled.  “Where did you find this Trix?  Was it also in the preserve?”

For a second time, Trixie described her trip to Lytell’s store and how she found the paper in the trash.

“It certainly looks like it matches the other two,” Mart said as he handed the paper back to Trixie.

“Don’t you want to compare it to the others I have?” asked Trixie as she moved toward the desk in her room.

“No time, Squaw!  I am heading for a shower.  Then after dinner I will be escorting the fair Diana to the movies.   Or did you forget that already?  Sheesh!”  Mart shook his head in mock despair.

Trixie stared after her brother as he moved past her in the hallway and into the bathroom.  The door closed behind him and the sound of running water could be heard.

“When I solve this mystery, that brother of mine gets no credit,” Trixie muttered, as she turned back to her room.  She was just about to close her door when she heard Bobby open his door.

Trixie spun around and looked at her brother.

“Never mind, I already know what you’re going to say,” complained Bobby.  “You’ll help me later cuz you’re busy now.”  Bobby shut his door quickly.

Trixie bit her lip.  “I’ll just have one more little look at these papers, call Dan and see if he has found anything, then I will help Bobby with his room,” she said to herself.  With that resolution in place, Trixie closed her door and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

She dialed Dan’s number, but the call went straight to voicemail.  

“He must be in a place where the signal is weak,” Trixie assumed.

She left an excited message telling Dan about the paper she had found in the trash at Lytell’s store.  After hanging up, Trixie paced around her bedroom, the papers spread across her desk.  She was becoming more frustrated with her inability to decipher what was written on the pieces of paper.  Her thoughts were interrupted by a thud from Bobby’s room.  “Oh great, now what has he done?” Trixie groaned.

Trixie heard Moms yelling up the stairs at Bobby.  She heard Bobby’s door open and Bobby’s footsteps in the hall.

“Moms, I can’t clean my room cuz Trixie won’t help,” he hollered.

“Trixie!”  Moms’ sharp tone of voice indicated her level of irritation at the unclean room.

“Fine,” Trixie shouted.  She shoved the papers into her desk drawer and slammed the drawer shut.  She flung open her bedroom door and faced Bobby.

“Let’s go,” she ordered the youngster.  Trixie gave Bobby a firm shove toward his room.  When they stepped into the room, Trixie gasped.  “Bobby!  What did you do in here?”

Trixie looked around the small room that was now carpeted in wall-to-wall toys and books.  The bed was unmade and his handmade quilt was draped on the floor.  The closet door stood open and the trashcan was overflowing.  Trixie turned and faced her little brother.

“Really Bobby!  You couldn’t put any of this away by yourself?” she demanded.

Bobby looked at Trixie and shrugged.

“Fine, let’s get started.”  Trixie stopped and tried to figure out the best place to start.  She finally decided to make the bed.  She pulled up the covers and told Bobby to get his stuffed animals and put them on the bed.  After that, Trixie moved across the room to the bookcase and began piling Bobby’s books onto the shelves.

“Trixie,” Bobby shrieked.  “You have to put them in the right order.”

Trixie groaned as she pulled the books off the shelves.  “What order do they go in,” she asked through gritted teeth.

Bobby sat down and sorted through the pile of books.  He handed the books to Trixie in the order that he wanted them in.

“Okay Bobby, “ Trixie said.  “You have a good start. Now you just finish putting your toys away while I go do something in my room.”

“No Trixie.  Moms says you have to help me clean my room, my WHOLE room.”

Trixie muttered incoherently as she stepped over the toys and started to clean up Bobby’s closet.  “I don’t get it Bobby.  Why is your closet also torn apart?”

“I can’t tell you ‘cuz it’s a secret,” he answered.

“What kind of secret is in your closet?” she asked

“I can’t tell you ‘cuz Larry and Terry would kill me if I did,” he replied.

“Wait!  What do Larry and Terry Lynch have to do with your closet being a mess?”

“I can’t tell you, Trixie.  Stop asking me.  I changed my mind about you helping.  Maybe you should just go back to your room.”

Trixie’s curiosity was now in full gear.  “Bobby.  I want to know what is going on here.  If Larry and Terry helped make this mess, then why didn’t they help clean it up?” Trixie demanded

“Never mind, Trixie.  If you’re not gonna leave, then empty my trash,” Bobby ordered as he pointed to the overflowing trash container in his corner.  He began gathering up his army men that were strewn across the rug.

Trixie, deciding that she wasn’t going to get any explanation from Bobby, stepped across the room and grabbed Bobby’s trashcan.  She left Bobby’s room and was at the top of the stairs when she stopped abruptly.  She stared into Bobby’s trashcan.  It was full of papers covered with lines and rows of neatly written letters.

“Bobby,” she yelled as she ran back into the room.

Bobby looked up, startled at the reappearance of his sister.  Trixie grabbed some papers and held them out to Bobby.  “Where did you get these?” she demanded.

“Give me those,” said Bobby as he attempted to snatch them out of her hands.

Trixie held the papers up out of Bobby’s reach.  “Where did you get these?” she repeated.

“They’re mine!  Give ‘em back,” Bobby yelled.

“Bobby, where did you get these?” Trixie asked again.

“I can’t tell you.  Now give them to me.”

“Bobby, why can’t you tell me?”

“Cuz Larry and Terry will kill me,” Bobby said.

”Seriously Bobby, don’t you think you are being just a little bit dramatic?”

“Stop asking me questions, Trixie.  Just go back to your room and I will finish cleaning up my room by myself.”

“No way, little brother.  I want to know what is going on and I want to know now.”

Bobby stared at the floor and said nothing.  Trixie, her eyes on her brother, decided to change tactics.

“Bobby,” she said quietly.  “Why don’t you tell me what is going on?  It will be our secret.  It will be like a case that you and I will work on together.”

Bobby sighed as he waded through the remaining toys on his floor and sat on his bed.  “I can’t tell you, Trixie, ‘cuz it’s a secret between Larry, Terry and me.”

Trixie thought for a moment, and then stepped across the room and sat down next to Bobby.

“You know Bobby, when detectives are working on a case, they are not allowed to discuss it with anybody except their partner.  If you tell me, then I promise I will treat it like a case and never tell anybody.”

Bobby looked up at his sister.  “You promise?” he asked.

Trixie nodded.  She held out the papers that she still had clutched in her hand.  “Tell me about this, Bobby.  Where did you find it?”

Bobby looked confused.  “I didn’t find it, Trixie.  I made it.”

“What?” Trixie gasped.

“I made it.” Bobby repeated.

“But...how?   Why?”

“I guess I’m gonna have to tell you the whole story.”  Bobby shifted himself into a more comfortable position.  “ See, Larry, Terry and me decided to make our own club.  But we wanted it to be better than the Bob-Whites so we decided to come up with a secret code that we could use to communicate with each other.  That way, if we wrote notes and somebody else found them, they wouldn’t know what we were saying.”  Bobby paused and looked up at Trixie.

“I guess that makes sense, Bobby.  I know how much you want to be a Bob-White.”

Bobby nodded.  “Yeah, and we even had a clubhouse picked out.”

“A clubhouse?.  Where was your clubhouse?”

“We tried my tree house, but it was too hard to carry things up to it.  So then we tried the old schoolhouse.  But Dan and Mr. Maypenny were always going in and out of that place, so we couldn’t keep meeting there.  We tried making a secret hideaway in my closet, but there wasn’t enough room.  We haven’t found a new place yet.”  Bobby looked down at the papers in Trixie’s hands.  “I guess we aren’t very good at making our own club, are we Trix?”

“I don’t know about that Bobby.  You guys did make up your own secret code.  And you did it so neatly.  How did you do that?” Trixie asked.

“Easy,” Bobby bragged.  “We just got a piece of that paper that you do your geometry on, the one with the little squares all over it.  Then we taped it to the window and put another piece of paper over it.  That way we could keep the letters all lined up.  We had Terry write the letters ‘cuz he has the best writing of all of us.”

“Sounds pretty smart to me, Bobby”  Trixie held up one of the papers.  “Can you tell me what this says?”

Bobby sadly shook his head.

“Come on Bobby.  Remember, I promised that I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

“I can’t tell you ‘cuz I don’t know.”

Trixie looked at Bobby and then at the papers in her hand.

“I thought you said that you and Larry and Terry made up this code.”

“We did, but then we forgot what the letters meant.  In fact, Larry kept getting mad ‘cuz he couldn’t remember the code.  He kept throwing away the papers we had already made.  So we kept making more.  I told you we weren’t very good at starting a club,” Bobby said forlornly.

Trixie slid her arm around Bobby’s shoulders.  “I think you did fine, Bobby.  But,” Trixie held up her index finger as she cautioned Bobby, “You can’t leave trash lying around the preserve.  That just wasn’t cool.”

“I know. I told Larry to pick it up.  I guess he forgot.”

“You need to be careful with that.  But, you tried to find a clubhouse and you guys created a secret code.  So maybe it didn’t work out the first time.  You’ll get it the next time.”

“The next time?” Bobby questioned.  “You think Larry and Terry and me should keep trying?”

“Sure, why not.  Bobby, if I gave up every time I thought I had failed, I would never, ever have solved any of my mysteries.”

Bobby looked into Trixie’s face.  She smiled at the young boy and winked.  “Come on, let’s finish this room so that Moms won’t be mad at us anymore.”

Bobby and Trixie jumped up and, in a burst of energy, managed to get Bobby’s room back into some semblance of order.

“There,” said Trixie as she brushed her hands together.  “This should make Moms happy.”

 “I agree,” said Bobby.  The two looked at each other and exchanged a high-five.  Trixie turned to leave Bobby’s room when he stopped her.

“Thanks Trixie.”

“For what?”

“For helping me with my room and for...not laughing at me.”

Trixie ruffled Bobby’s hair, crossed the hall and stepped into her own room.  She leaned back against the door and looked at the ceiling above her.  “Oh Bobby,” she whispered.  “I should have let you help me when you asked to.  It would have saved me a lot of time and trouble.”

Trixie crossed over to her desk and pulled out the papers.  “So that’s why I could never figure these out.  They were totally made up and didn’t have any meaning attached to them.”

Trixie watched as the papers floated down from her fingers and into the depths of her own trashcan.