The secret of the Mansion

not." Trixie swung out of bed. "Let’s get dressed and hurry up the hill to see how Jim is." She sniffed. "My pajamas smell like smoke. Do yours?"
    "Yes." Honey wrinkled her nose. "That’s why I was pretty sure it wasn’t a nightmare. Gosh, Trixie," she said as they washed and dressed, "I was awfully worried about Jim hiding out in the summerhouse last night when it looked as though the fire were going to spread to the woods. Weren’t you?"
    "I sure was," Trixie agreed. "And it’s a good thing that place is practically all windows; otherwise the smoke might have made him pretty sick." She stopped in the kitchen long enough to scoop two oranges out of the refrigerator. "We can eat these on the way up," she said, handing one to Honey, "and have the rest of our breakfast later with Jim. Now that Jonesy thinks he died in the fire, maybe he’ll stick around here a few days longer."
    "Oh, I hope so," Honey said. "I wish Regan hadn’t made us go home last night before we had a chance to see if Jim was okay."
    "Well," Trixie said, grinning, "we were lucky it wasn’t Miss Trask. She would have given us heck for going up there in our pajamas."
    "I was so excited I didn’t know what I had on," Honey said. "And I don’t believe anyone else noticed, either."
    "I planned to dress and go back and see Jim," Trixie admitted, "as soon as I was sure Regan was asleep. But I was so tired, the last thing I remember was toppling into bed." She stopped suddenly and flicked a strip of orange peel into the bushes. "Say," she said, trying to sound casual, "did you have a nightmare last night? The one about being in the sealed room with the big balloon pressing down on you?" Trixie watched Honey’s face.
    "Why, no." Honey stared at her in astonishment. "I haven’t had that nightmare for a long time. As a matter of fact, except for that one about the big black snake with the white streak down its back, I haven’t even dreamed since we moved up here." Trixie chuckled. "Well, I bet you don’t have that sealed-room dream anymore. If ever you were going to have it, you would have last night. What with the fire and worrying about Jim, I’m surprised I didn’t have a nightmare myself."
    The air was strong with the smell of smoke and scorched wood as they pushed through the thicket into the clearing.
    "I bet I don’t have any nightmares anymore," Honey said thoughtfully. "And it’s a funny thing, but that creepy feeling I had that something awful was going to happen has gone away, too."
    "I should think it would." Trixie laughed. "The awful thing has happened. Nothing could have been much worse than the firel"
    The girls whistled bob-white! bob-white! over and over again, but there was no answering call from the hidden summerhouse. Reddy sniffed around the ruins with an air of disgust and then ran off through the woods after a rabbit. It was very quiet in the clearing, for not even a chicken was in sight.
    "He must still be asleep," Trixie said as they stood there listening. "Jim," she yelled. "It’s all right. Come on out. It’s Trixie and Honey."
    There was no sound except the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and the distant rumble of thunder in the overcast sky. "Maybe he got smothered," Honey breathed. "There was so much smoke around here last night, and the windows of the summerhouse are choked with vines."
    But Trixie was already on her hands and knees, crawling as fast as she could under the old arbor, calling, "Wake up, Jim! It’s us, Trixie and Honey." Honey followed after her so closely that when Trixie swung open the door to the summerhouse, she almost knocked her down. A spider scuttled across the bare floor.
    "He’s gone," Trixie wailed. "I was afraid he’d run away the first thing in the morning. Now we’ll never see him again, Honey."
    Honey’s hazel eyes clouded with tears. "Oh, gosh," she cried, "why didn’t he wait to say goodbye? I hoped that, since he doesn’t have to worry about Jonesy anymore, he might come and live with us."
    "Me, too," Trixie moaned. As her eyes grew accustomed to the semidarkness, she suddenly spied a piece of paper on the floor of the summerhouse. It was held in place by the little leather jewel case. "It’s a letter from Jim," she cried excitedly. "Help me pull away some of these branches, Honey, so we can read it."
    A shaft of grayish light trickled through the gap in one of the windows, and Trixie and Honey read the letter.
     
Dear Trixie:
You and Honey are great sports,