Free The Red Trailer Mystery by Julie Campbell

pancakes for breakfast I don’t ever want to see food again.”
    “It’s only an hour’s ride to Wilson Ranch,” Miss Trask told them. “You should be back before one. When I take the dogs for a walk, I’ll stop at one of the truck farms near here and buy greens for a salad. That, with canned ham broiled with slices of pineapple, and buttered rolls will make a delicious and easy-to-fix dinner.”
    “Yummy-yum,” Trixie cried, completely forgetting that she had just said she never wanted to eat again. “Let’s go.”
    In a few minutes they were riding Prince and Peanuts through a wooded path that led in the opposite direction from the one they had taken to Pine Hollow Camp.
    After a while Honey said musingly, “What did you mean, Trixie, when you said last night that we weren’t going to find Jim until the trailer-theft mystery was solved?”
    Trixie shrugged. “I don’t know exactly why, but somehow I have a feeling that Jim isn’t at any of those boys’ camps, that he’s hiding out in the woods. And Joeanne is probably lost in the woods around here and thetrailer thieves are hiding in the woods too, and so I keep thinking if we find one of them we’ll find all of them.”
    Honey laughed. “That doesn’t make much sense. The woods stretch for miles and miles on each side of the main highway. It would be like trying to find a whole book of needles in one huge haystack.”
    “I know it.” Trixie grinned, and then she sobered. “Say, Honey,” she cried, pointing. “Look down there in that hollow. If that isn’t an old orchard I never saw one.”
    Honey reined in Peanuts. “Are those gnarled and tired-looking things apple trees?”
    “That’s right,” Trixie told her. “We have lots of them like that at home. Dad is always going to chop them down for firewood but they are so beautiful when they blossom in the spring Mother won’t let him.” She leaned across her saddle to whisper, “Do you suppose it’s the same orchard Jeff and his bushy-haired friend were talking about?”
    Honey shuddered. “If it is, let’s not go near the place. I’m scared of those men, Trixie, and they already suspect us of spying on them.”
    Trixie ignored her. “When we get to the top of this hill, let’s look down and see if we can see an old barn. There must be a truck farm around there but the woods shut out our view.”
    But the trail to Wilson Ranch led downhill instead of up, and Trixie was so busy slapping at the deer flies swarming around Prince’s neck that she forgot to look for signs of a farm. The flies left them at the edge of the woods and they cantered across a wide field to pick up the trail again on the other side. They stopped for a cool drink at a spring and bathed their hot arms and faces.
    “Whew!” Trixie gasped, as the horses drank thirstily. “This is awful. How much farther do we have to go?”
    Honey consulted the map. “Why, we’re almost there. As a matter of fact, we are there. This patch of woods belongs to the camp. We should be able to see the cabins in a few minutes.”
    But before they saw the camp they heard unmistakable sounds of boys in swimming—splashing, yelling, the blowing of a whistle, and then they rounded a bend in the path and found themselves a few yards from the quarry.
    One tall, blond boy was poised on the diving board, and Honey cried, “Why, that’s my cousin, Ben Riker. I haven’t seen him in ages, but I’d know him anywhere. Nobody else is such a clown.”
    Ben, pretending that he had lost his nerve, was backing away from the edge of the board. All of a suddenhe lost his balance and fell over the side with a loud splash. Grinning and spluttering, he emerged and promptly caught sight of the girls and their horses.
    “Honey Wheeler!” he shouted, scrambling up the bank. “Where did you come from and what are you doing here?”
    Honey introduced him to Trixie and explained about the trailer trip. “We’re looking for a redheaded boy named Jim,”