The Mystery of the Whispering Witch

depart for that noble city forthwith.”
    “But, honestly,” Honey protested, “don’t you think the story of Miles Standish and Priscilla has been done to death? Why, I remember we were doing that same old thing in kindergarten!”
    “Ah, but never like this,” Mart declared.
    “I’ll bet!” Trixie couldn’t resist adding. She laughed when she caught sight of Mart’s indignant face.
    Mart was obviously still trying to think of a crushing reply when Brian leaned forward and asked, “How come you haven’t told us anything about what you girls have been up to this afternoon? Did you get your clothes okay, Fay?”
    “Yes, I’ve been wondering about that, too,” Jim said. “What happened, Trix?”
    Trixie bit her lip and hesitated. She almost wished that Fay weren’t present to hear about the exciting conclusions she’d reached. Would Fay believe that the frightening things that had been happening to her these past weeks had been caused by one greedy man?
    I’ll have to make it sound very convincing, Trixie thought as she began her story.
    The Bob-Whites listened in silence as Trixie told them everything that had happened from the time they’d arrived at Lisgard House that afternoon until she and Honey left it that evening.
    She finished and glanced apprehensively at
    Fay, who was sitting quiet and still, her hands in her lap.
    Suddenly Fay pushed back her chair and stood up. “I don’t believe it!” she cried. “It couldn’t have happened that way at all!”
    Startled, Dan raised his dark head and stared at her. “Hey, hold on!” he exclaimed. “I thought you’d be pleased to hear Trixie’s theory. It’s possible she’s right, you know. She often is.”
    Fay shook her head. “But not this time! No! Not this time. I just know it!”
    She sounded so vehement that Trixie frowned. All at once, all her old suspicions about this new friend of theirs came flooding back. Was Fay playing some strange game of her own? If so, what could it be?
    It wasn’t until they had pushed back their chairs and were leaving the room that Mart made his incredible suggestion. He put his hand on Trixie’s arm and whispered in her ear, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Trix? Has it occurred to you that maybe Zeke Collins isn’t the thief at all?” Trixie gasped. “Then who could it be?”
    “Haven’t you guessed?” Mart said quietly. “It’s the Franklins, of course!”

Return to Lisgard House ● 17

    TRIXIE’S THOUGHTS were still in a whirl as she followed her friends slowly into Honey’s living room.
    She glanced up at the ornate clock that sat in the middle of the Wheelers’ mantelpiece. Eight-thirty! In another few minutes, it would be time to leave for Lisgard House. Already the boys were insisting that they were going to accompany the girls.
    “There’s no way you’re going to leave us behind,” Mart announced firmly, even though no one was arguing with him. “If Zeke is the dirty-deed-doer—and I did say if— he could try to camouflage himself as an antique hat rack or something and try to kidnap the lot of you.”
    “What’s that about Zeke?” Miss Trask’s brisk voice asked as she hurried into the room. “What’s that old rascal been up to now? By the way, Trixie, he was just here.”
    Trixie leaped to her feet, startled. “Here?” she gasped. “He was here?”
    Miss Trask frowned at the note of panic in her voice. “He brought your bike back, though how he knew you were here and not at home is more than I can imagine.”
    But I know , Trixie thought. He must have followed us, after all.
    Trixie swallowed hard. “Has he gone?” she asked and discovered she was trembling. She had a horrible suspicion that Zeke was lurking out there in the dark somewhere. He was waiting to pounce on her as soon as she set foot outside the front door. She noticed that Miss Trask was staring at her thoughtfully.
    “Oh, yes, he’s gone,” Miss Trask said, “but I can see that you’re upset about something. The condition seems to be catching. Zeke Collins was upset about something, too. He wouldn’t tell me what it was. If you ask me, I think he’s beginning to believe his own stories. I told him so.”
    “And what did he say?” Mart asked.
    Miss Trask smiled. “To be honest, I didn’t let him say anything, Mart. I simply gave him a piece of my mind. I could see for myself how much his ridiculous ghost stories had frightened Fay. I told him in no uncertain terms that he had no