The Mystery off Glen Road

low voice. “Of course I’m mad, you lame-brained idiot. Mad with joy.”
    Jim suddenly joined them then, appearing out of the woods. In the same low voice Brian had used, he said, “Well, I see the lost is found.” He reached up and gently tugged one of Bobby’s silky curls.
    “That’s right,” Brian said huskily. “And the mad female who found him has also fixed things so that Mr. Lytell didn’t sell that jalopy, after all. You tell Jim about it, Trix. I can’t. I seem to be all choked up, as though I were coming down with a cold.”

    “I couldn’t seem to talk, either,” Trixie told Honey the next morning as they cantered along the trail. “All of a sudden, I felt as though I had some of Bobby’s pet frogs in my throat, so, in the end, he was the one who told Jim about it. It was an awfully garbled version, of course, with a lot of talk about old lamps and new lamps, but Jim caught on right away. He bopped me over the head with his flashlight and stalked off into your house.”
    Honey laughed. “You should have heard what he said to me about it, Trix. He thinks you’re just about the most wonderful girl in the whole wide world, and so do I.”
    “Don’t be ridic,” Trixie said. “I’m a moron. But just to prove that I’m not really, I’m going to find our way back to that cabin in the clearing. I’ve figured it all out. Instead of starting at the fork, we’ll start from the spot on the trail where the path merged into it. And this is it.”
    “How smart you are,” Honey cried admiringly. “Instead of winding our way through the labyrinth, all we have to do is go back along this path in reverse. I mean, turn left at that little fork where Starlight turned right. We can’t possibly go wrong, and in just a few minutes we’ll be in the big clearing.”
    “No sooner said than done,” Trixie said, starting Strawberry off at a canter. And, sure enough, five minutes later she reined her horse to a stop a few yards from the cabin. Honey pulled Lady to a stop beside her. And then both girls almost fell off their horses.
    The door to the cabin opened, and out came Mr. Maypenny!
    “Well, now, hello,” he said pleasantly. “Real sociable of you to call.” He pointed a gnarled finger at Trixie. “You’re the Belden girl, unless I miss my guess. I’ve seen you around, trespassing on my property, and asked Lytell who you were.” He chuckled. “Lytell ’lowed as how you were all right, but sort of harum-scarum. No harm in you, though, he says.” He took a wrist compass from the pocket of his khaki knickers and held it up so Trixie could see what it was. “Did you happen to drop this compass the day before Thanksgiving when you were moseying around here?”
    Trixie slid weakly out of the saddle. “I sure did,” she said. “But, Mr. Maypenny, this isn’t your property.” She nodded toward Honey. “This is Honey Wheeler. All of these woods belong to her father. It’s part of his huge game preserve.”
    To Trixie’s amazement, he moved closer and shook hands with Honey. “Well, now, I’ve seen you around, too, and I know your father. A real nice gentleman; a bit stubborn when he chooses to be, but pleasant.”
    Honey couldn’t help smiling as she dismounted. “But I don’t understand,” she said. “Mr. Lytell told me that you owned land around here, but I didn’t think it was in the middle of Daddy’s preserve.”
    “Sure is,” he said with a broad grin. “Right smack in the middle of it. A pie-shaped section consisting of ten acres. It’s belonged to me and my family for nigh onto a hundred years. Good land, too. I’ve lived off it, man and boy, since I was your age. Mr. Wheeler, he knows it’s good land, too. Offered me a fancy price for it, but, of course, I just laughed. What good would twenty thousand dollars do me if I didn’t have a house and garden and plenty of fish and game? Grow my own vegetables, I do. Store some in a root cellar and can others. Dry out some of the meat and can some. Just finished canning a dozen jars of venison stew. Real tasty. There’s still plenty in the pot. If you’ll come inside and sit down, I’ll dish you up some.”
    In a stunned silence, the girls looped the reins of their horses around branches of a tree and followed him into the cabin. Trixie liked Mr. Maypenny, but she felt that she had been cheated out of a mystery.
    Finally Trixie could keep quiet no longer and said, “Well, you’re a trespasser. Every time you