Free The Secret of the Mansion by Julie Campbell

wouldn’t,” Jim said. “Not until he got used to me, anyway. Gee, do you think you could fix it so I could ride him, sometime? I haven’t ridden anything
    but Jonesy’s big old farm horses since Dad died. That’s not really riding.”
     
    “I’ll fix it, somehow,” Honey promised impulsively. Then her hazel eyes sparkled. “I tell you how we can arrange it. Regan always has Sunday afternoons
    off, and Miss Trask always takes a nap after Sunday dinner. Mother and Dad are leaving tonight for Canada, so I’m pretty sure I can lead Jupe up here for
    you to ride tomorrow as soon as Regan leaves.”
     
    92 80 Jim’s face flushed as he said, “Gosh, Honey, that would be swell. Thanks.” He turned to Trixie, then. “How’s your kid brother?” he asked. “Honey told
    me he was bitten by a copperhead.”
     
    Trixie shuddered. “I can’t bear to talk about it. But
     
    he’s all right now.”
     
    “It’s a good thing you know your first aid,” Jim said approvingly, and Trixie realized with relief that he really had forgiven her for doubting the story
    he had told the day before.
     
    “Let’s tie up Lady and look inside the Mansion some more for your uncle’s money,” she said, turning toward the big house. “I just know we’re going to find
    something.”
     
    “That’s what I did all yesterday afternoon,” Jim said. “I’ve just about given up hope.”
     
    “Well, I haven’t.” Trixie determinedly led the way through the thicket. “And I’ll bet that brass key has something to do with it.”
     
    They were halfway across the clearing when Trixie heard a dog barking down in the road below the Mansion. “It doesn’t sound like Reddy or Bud,” she said
    thoughtfully. “But there aren’t any other dogs around here.”
     
    “You girls had better get inside the house,” Jim interrupted quietly as the barking came nearer and they
     
    93 81 could hear the animal running up the hill. “There is a strange dog around here. I saw it this morning, a vicious-looking mongrel.” They climbed quickly
    in through the window. “I don’t know whether it’s the same one that got tangled in the vines yesterday or not,” Jim said, picking up his gun. “But I’m
    not taking any chances. A stray dog that’s been running wild for a long time can become very ugly.”
     
    94 82
     
    A New Hiding Place
     
    The girls crowded around Jim at the window. Suddenly, with a loud squawking, Queenie burst out of the woods and flew into the clearing. Right behind her
    was a thin, mean-looking cur whose yellowish coat was matted with burrs. It wore no collar, and its cruel mouth was flecked with foam. Jim raised his gun
    to his shoulder.
     
    Trixie grabbed his arm. “Don’t shoot,” she begged. “You might miss and hit Queenie.”
     
    At that moment, the plucky little game hen turned in midair and came down, clawing and scratching, on the mongrel’s nose. The dog skidded to a stop, struck
    out at Queenie with one paw; then, with its tail between its legs, slunk into the thicket. At the same moment Queenie, squawking as though in pain, and
    dragging one wing, darted across the courtyard and disappeared under a clump of thickly matted bushes.
     
    They could hear the dog running away through the woods in the opposite direction, and Trixie cried out, “Oh, oh! It’s hurt poor little Queenie. We must
    try to catch her and fix her wing.”
     
    95 83 She was out of the window and across the clearing in a second, tearing at the vines and branches which cut off her view of Queenie’s hiding place.
    Then she got down on her hands and knees and began crawling after the game hen. Sharp twigs scratched her face and pulled her curly blond hair, but she
    struggled on.
     
    Jim was right behind her. “Let me go first, Trixie,” he argued. “Queenie may fly in your face and scratch you badly.”
     
    At that moment, Trixie tripped and plunged forward, bumping her head against something hard. She scrambled quickly