Free The Mystery off Glen Road by Julie Campbell Page B

gamekeeper as Fleagle was, if not better.”
    Jim reached out and gave one of her sandy curls a gentle tug. “I’m going to have a great big, scarlet ribbon made for you, and on it, printed in gold, will be ‘Miss Nonsense of America‘.”
    “Yes, yes,” Mart agreed. “I’ll be her press agent. We’ll tour the country together, I in my limousine and she in her cage. Remind me to make a sign for that cage, Jim. Something to the effect that customers should not poke their fingers through the bars unless they wish to lose said fingers.”
    Trixie bared her teeth at him. “I wish I were a lioness so I could bite your head off.”
    “Oh, please,” Honey implored them. “Let’s go into what’s left of the clubhouse and hold a meeting.” She led the way, and when they had gathered around the table, she said, “Trixie and I were just talking to Regan about our maybe getting the gamekeeper job, at least for a week, anyway. He’s talking to Miss Trask about it now.”
    There was silence for a minute; then Mart emitted a loud, “WOW! If Miss Trask agrees, that’s a sure fifty bucks.” He turned to Brian. “Maybe you can get your jalopy, after all.”
    Brian shook his head. “That Ford’s at the second-hand car dealer’s place now. That is, if it hasn’t already been sold.”
    “Well, let’s not worry about that now,” Trixie said hastily. “The important thing is for somebody to talk Miss Trask into agreeing with Regan that we should have the job.” She pointed her finger at Jim. “You’re that somebody.”
    “That’s right,” Brian agreed. “And I now understand what Trixie was driving at when she said you’d make a good gamekeeper. If you didn’t have to go to school every day, Jim, you could hold down the job all by yourself.”
    “Single-handedly is the word,” Honey said with a giggle. “It’s one of Regan’s favorites. He keeps on using it the way Trixie and I keep saying—”
    “Never mind,” Jim interrupted. “If Regan’s on our side, we’ve practically won the battle. But I’ll go up to the house now and see what’s cooking.” He hurried off.
    They sat there, tensely waiting, until he came back in less than ten minutes. There was a broad grin on his freckled face, and he greeted them all with a loud whoop.
    “It’s all set—except for a slight hitch.”
    “Oh, no,” Honey moaned. “Don’t tell us. We know. Miss Trask doesn’t think Trixie and I can cope with poachers.”
    He threw one arm around her slim shoulders and gave her a brotherly hug. “The chance of you and Trixie stumbling across a poacher is one in a million, little sister. So don’t you two let your vivid imaginations run away with you while you patrol.”
    “Well, what is the slight hitch, then?” Trixie demanded. She found it hard to be patient.
    Jim pointed to the gaping hole in the ceiling.
    “That,” he said succinctly. “We’ve got to stop working on the roof while we clear the paths and then repair the feeding stations.”
    “Oh, nuts,” Mart cried. “That’ll probably take the entire week, and in the meantime—”
    “Oh, let’s not be so pessimistic,” Brian broke in cheerfully. “The paths may not be blocked. And how do we know? Maybe all of the feeding stations are still intact.”
    Jim shrugged. “In either case, we’ve got to get going at once. Let’s just hope this bright, sunny weather lasts until we boys are through. The girls, of course, will have to do all of the patrolling. Until school closes next Wednesday for the Thanksgiving holidays, that means, Trixie and Honey, that you kids will have to get up at dawn. Can you do it?”
    “Of course we can,” Trixie retorted. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, so we don’t have to patrol early in the morning before school except on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Three days won’t kill us.”
    “Says you,” Mart put in. “You die a thousand deaths every morning when the alarm clock goes off at seven. Thus, according to my mental