Free The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder by Julie Campbell

answer, she slipped quickly from Susie’s back and looped the little mare’s reins over a low-hanging tree branch.
    She heard Honey whisper urgently, “Wait for me, Trix. Someone might be in there. Oh, be careful!”
    When Lady, too, was tethered, the girls crept closer and soon were standing beneath the old building’s only window.
    Trixie stood on tiptoe and tried to look through it. “It’s too high,” she whispered. “I can’t reach, Honey. Give me a boost up.”
    As her friend obeyed, Trixie reached up and clung to the windowsill. She wiped the grimy pane with the heel of her hand.
    Suddenly, her gaze sharpened as she stared down at the shack’s dark interior.
    Honey felt her give one startled jerk and heard her muffled scream.
    “Let me down!” Trixie cried wildly. “Quick— let me down!”
    Honey relaxed her grip and stared at her friend’s white face. “What is it, Trixie?” she exclaimed. “What did you find?”
    Trixie swallowed hard. “I—I found Reddy— and Patch, too,” she answered, catching her breath in a sob. “They’re both in there. They’re on the floor. But, oh, Honey, I’m afraid we’re too late!”
    “Too late?” Honey echoed. “Trixie, what do you mean?”
    “I mean,” Trixie answered, the hot tears gathering behind her eyelids, “that I think both dogs are dead!”

The Letter ● 9

    DEAD?” HONEY GASPED, not believing her ears. “Oh, Trix, but they can’t be. You must have made a mistake.”
    Trixie’s teeth had begun to chatter. “There’s no mistake,” she answered. “Y-You g-go and l-look for yourself.”
    “Is there anyone else inside?” Honey asked, her voice low.
    “I c-couldn’t see anyone,” Trixie said, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Honey, I don’t believe it myself! What would Crabapple Farm be without Reddy? What’ll I tell the boys? What will Dad and Moms say?”
    “We’re going to have to go in there,” Honey said, nodding toward the shack’s half-opened door. “We’ve got to find out how this terrible thing happened. We can figure out later what we’re going to tell everyone.”
    Trixie struggled to stop herself from trembling. She knew that Honey felt just as sad as she did herself. She also knew that Honey could never enter that dismal shack alone. Trixie would have to go with her.
    She took several deep breaths. “It’s okay,” she said at last. “I think I’m all right now.” She bit her lip and clenched her fists as she took the first step forward. “Let’s go.”
    Honey stayed close to her friend’s side as Trixie reached out a still-shaking hand and pushed open the door. Two more steps, and both girls stood on hard-packed earth floor and stared down at the two bodies that lay there.
    The two dogs lay on their sides facing each other. Patch, Jim’s little black and white cocker spaniel, disciplined too late to be the hunting dog his master had wanted him to be, now lay with his tail stretched straight out behind him.
    Reddy, his long, golden body looking like some bright banner, looked cold and stiff.
    Trixie, the tears now streaming down her pale cheeks, dropped to her knees beside him.
    “Oh, Reddy,” she sobbed, bending low over his shining coat. “Why did this have to happen to you? How I wish I could bring you back! Reddy, can you hear me? Do you even care?”
    And Reddy, as if in answer to her question, promptly opened his mouth—and hiccuped.
    For a moment, Trixie thought her ears had deceived her. She stared at her dog’s seemingly lifeless body. “Reddy?” she said, her voice quavering. “Did you say something?”
    Reddy hiccuped again.
    Honey gasped. “Why, Trixie, I heard that! Does it mean—can it mean—”
    Trixie scrambled to her feet, hardly daring to hope that what she suspected was true. She stood over Reddy and gently nudged him with the toe of her shoe.
    “Up, Reddy!” she ordered firmly. Then, remembering that he obeyed only reverse commands ever since Mart had undertaken to