The Indian Burial Ground Mystery (7 page)

“We’ll see you later!” Trixie called over her shoulder. “And don’t worry
about us. We’re always very careful.”

The two girls broke into a canter and disappeared down one of the smooth
trails through the woods.

The shaded path
that
Susie and Lady followed soon emerged onto the shoulder of
Glen Road
. After checking for traffic in
both directions, the girls guided their horses across the road and headed onto
a new path. They followed it for a while, and then picked up another of the
many paths that threaded through the preserve. This one led past the dig site,
but the girls didn’t mind.

“It’s late,” Trixie said, “and Charles has probably left for the city by
now. Why don’t we swing past the village site and see if we can find anything
there that looks like what was on the map.”

Soon the horses broke through into the bug-infested part of the woods
where the village site was located. No one was there, and Trixie slowly slid
off Lady and started walking around. Suddenly she stopped.

The little clearing sloped gradually up a slight rise. Trixie was
standing near a large fallen tree. A few feet in front of her, a huge hole had
been dug out of the hummock, and piles of fresh dirt were scattered all around
the hole.

“Wow,” Honey said with a whistle as she came up behind Trixie to survey
the rubble. “Somebody was pretty busy here this afternoon.”

“He certainly was,” Trixie agreed. “And it doesn’t look as if he was
using proper archaeological methods, either.”

“Whoever did this used a shovel and a pick,” Honey agreed. “It would
take a year to get this much dirt out using that little scratching tool
Professor Conroy gave us.”

“No kidding,” Trixie said. “No sifting or anything! You can bet that
whoever dug this hole wasn’t looking for any Indian artifacts. He was looking
for something else!”

“Unless, of course, he wasn’t an archaeologist,” Honey said with a wry
smile.

“Oh, I think an archaeologist dug this hole,” Trixie muttered. “And
there’s only one archaeologist I can think of who would bother.”

“Right. The archaeologist who thinks he found a treasure map in the
Historical Society archive room!”

“He may have the treasure map,” Trixie said, grinning, “but by the looks
of this hole, I don’t think he found the treasure yet. Do you?”

“Nope.”

“This is probably the wrong place,” Trixie said with a laugh as she got
back on her horse. “Well, I hope he enjoys digging holes.” Honey laughed too.
“And it looks like he’s got an awful lot of digging ahead of him!” They rode
away from the village site. The day had cooled down, so they decided to keep
the horses out for a while longer before returning to the stables. They chose a
path through a blackberry thicket. Stopping briefly, they pulled some ripe
berries off the bushes and popped them into their mouths. Trixie decided they
should return in a few days and pick the rest before the birds got to them. She
knew her mother would use them to make her special blackberry jam.

They rode on until they reached the edge of Mrs.
Vanderpoel’s
property, then they turned back. Going past the old orchard, Trixie pulled up
her horse. There in the orchard was Old
Brom
. A
chubby old man with a bush of white whiskers, he lived in a small cottage on
the land which had belonged to his family since the seventeenth century. Now
the land was part of the Wheeler game preserve. Very proud, and usually very
shy, Old
Brom
was a treasure trove of wonderful old
ghost stories which he liked to tell to the neighborhood children.

“Let’s ask
Brom
if he knows the name ‘
Depew
,’ ” Trixie suggested. “After all, he knows so much
about this area.”

The girls dismounted, looped the bridles around a fence post, and walked
over to Old
Brom
.

“Nice day,” he mumbled into his long beard. “Care for an apple?”

“No thanks,
Brom
,” Trixie said. “We were
wondering about something, and thought maybe you could help us.”

“
Dunno
,”
Brom
replied tersely. Then his eyes twinkled. “
Mebbe
.”

“Have you ever heard of the name ‘
Depew
’
in these parts?” Honey asked. “We think maybe it was an old family that died
out.”

“
Depew
,”
Brom
said slowly. “Of course, I’ve heard of the
Depews
. Long time ago, though. All history
now.”

“Really?” Trixie gasped. “Where was their property?”

“Right here,”
Brom
said with a shy smile.
“Well, not here, exactly. Back down
Glen
Road
a ways. Right across from the Wheeler place.
Used to be a big old mansion, but it burned down in a mysterious fire long
about the time of the Revolution. Never did get built back up again.

“Owned all the land around here, the
Depews
did. Some say the son went crazy after
the place burned down. I don’t know that for sure, of course, but he never did
come back. Disappeared. Land was later bought by the family that built your
place, Honey.” Trixie shot Honey a warning look.

“That’s really interesting,
Brom
,” Honey said
slowly. She realized that it was probably best not to mention why they wanted
to know about the
Depews
.

“Glad to oblige,”
Brom
said. “As a matter of
fact, there’s a good ghost story about the
Depews
, but I’ll tell you the next time I see
you. Have to get over to see Mrs.
Vanderpoel
.
Promised her I’d bring her some apples. She’s going to bake a pie.”

“And give it to you to eat, right?” Trixie asked merrily. “She makes the
best pies in the world.”

“That she does,”
Brom
answered. “I’d pick
apples for Mrs. V. any day, as long as I get to eat some of her pie.”

“Thanks for your help,” Trixie said. “We have to get back, too. Regan
gets upset if we keep the horses out too long.”

Trixie and Honey waved good-bye to
Brom
and
quickly trotted the horses along the path to
Glen Road
. They knew it would be quicker
going back on the road than through the paths, and it was getting dark.

“What a break,” Trixie said. “The
Depew
house was right here on the preserve. I’ll bet the cave is right where Charles
thinks it is!”

“Me, too,” said Honey. “We’d better look at that map more closely. If
Charles is on the right track, so are we.”

“I’d be a lot more comfortable if
all
the Bob-Whites could
investigate this one,” Trixie stated. “Let’s call a short meeting for tonight
after dinner.”

That night at the clubhouse, Trixie explained what had happened to the
assembled Bob-Whites. Di and Dan sat on the floor, while Mart paced back and
forth eating crackers out of a giant economy-sized box. Reddy was there, too,
watching Mart pace the way a judge watches a tennis match. Back and forth, back
and forth went Reddy’s head. Brian looked bored.

“After Charles took the diary, I made a rubbing of what had been drawn
on the pad,” Trixie said. “I have a copy of the map right here. The only
problem was finding out where the
Depew
property was. Luckily, we ran into Old
Brom
, and he
told us that the whole game preserve was once owned by the
Depew
family. Their house was across the road from the Manor House, so that puts it
right where the dig site is now.”

“
Ved-dy
in-
ter
-
est-ing
, Miss Belden,” Mart mumbled through a mouthful of
crackers. “Do you have these insights often?”

Trixie ignored Mart’s remark and went right on talking. “My theory is
that Charles Miller somehow found out that there was treasure on this land, and
he decided to dig for it. But Professor Conroy disrupted his plans, first by
appointing him student head of the dig, and then by assigning us to the very
spot where Charles thought the treasure was buried. Charles hit Professor
Conroy on the head to get him out of the way for a while—-just long enough for
him to find the treasure. The trouble was, Honey and I got in his way. First we
showed up on the village site; and then we found the diary that he left on the
table in the archive room.”

“I think we should all investigate the village site before Charles gets
back from the city tomorrow morning,” Honey said. “We know he’s already started
digging for the treasure, because we saw a giant hole there this afternoon when
we rode by on our horses.”

“Show me the alleged map,” Mart said. “This theory isn’t very convincing
so far.” Trixie reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out the
rubbing she’d made earlier, along with another piece of paper.

“I recopied it so it would be easier to read,” she said as she handed
both pieces of paper to her skeptical brother.

Mart examined the map, then said with a shrug, “Well, why not? Going on
a treasure hunt is always fun. And we can always catch fireflies if we don’t
find any treasure.”

“Well, I’m not going to get involved in this nonsense,” Brian said
moodily. “I don’t believe all this stuff about a treasure, and what’s more, I
think you’re all wrong about Charles.” Trixie felt bad that Brian wasn’t taking
her seriously, but she had to continue her investigation, anyway. “I’m sorry.
I’d like your help,” she said to her brother. “But I know you need more proof,
and I’ll find it sooner or later.” Brian went over to the door. “I’m sorry too,
Trix
. But this is one mystery I’m not interested in.
Count me out.”

The door closed behind him.

There was a short silence after Brian left. Then Dan asked, “Do we have
any flashlights here? There’s no point in all of us staggering around in the
woods, bumping into each other.”

“Here are two,” Di said. “That means we need three more.”

“I’ll run up to the garage and get them,” Honey said, heading for the
door. “I know where they’re kept.”

Honey returned a few moments later, and the five young people were ready
to go investigating.

“This is exciting,” Mart said. “All we have to do is find a treasure
before we’re eaten alive by mosquitoes.”

Walking quickly, the Bob-Whites reached the village site through one of
the back paths. They didn’t want to alert the graduate students to their
presence. Reddy was crashing around in and out of the bushes, making a lot of
noise. Trixie tried to hush him up and make the excited dog walk quietly beside
her, but it was no use. Reddy was intoxicated by the scent of small animals and
was not about to be controlled. Sounds of noisy laughter and singing floated
through the trees. It was obvious that even if the interlopers were to set off
a few firecrackers, the students wouldn’t have the slightest inkling that they
weren’t alone.

Once at the village site, Trixie started digging away with her hands at
the low hillside where Charles had begun his search. Great clods of dirt went
flying behind her. Dan found a long stick and was poking the earth to see if it
sank in anywhere. Mart was marching back and forth giving unwanted advice.

“Mart, if you’re so smart,” Trixie finally said, looking up from her
digging, “why didn’t you remember to bring a shovel? It’s not easy to dig for
treasure with your bare hands.”

“Clever,” Mart said, scratching his chin. “Very clever—for a novice.”

“Novice indeed!” Trixie said with a snort.

Reddy, inspired by Trixie’s digging, started digging his own hole right
next to her. In seconds, a thick spray of dirt coated Trixie from head to toe.

“Stop that, Reddy!” she scolded.

Reddy jumped up and down, covering Trixie with dog kisses, and then went
happily back to his digging.

“Get the dog to do the dirty work,” Mart said with a smirk.

In the meantime, Dan and Di were examining the map with their flashlights.

“If there were a cave around here, it would have to be made of
limestone,” Dan said thoughtfully. “But there are no rock formations anywhere
in this area, so the cave would have to be underground, not in the side of a
hill. I think Charles was digging in the wrong place.”

“Isn’t that a tree?” Di said, pointing to a spot on the map. “I guess it
would have to be a pretty big tree by now, since that map was drawn at least
two hundred years ago.”

“Wait a minute,” Trixie said. “Maybe this giant log is part of that old
tree. It certainly looks fat enough to be over two hundred years old. And the
other trees around here look like second growth. They’re not tall, and their
trunks are thin. Maybe this place was once a meadow.”

“All this conjecture is ridiculous without a shovel,” Mart said
pompously. “I’m glad I thought of it.”

“You didn’t think of it,” Trixie muttered.

Honey quickly jabbed her elbow into Trixie’s ribs.

“Yes, he did,” Honey said quickly. “And since he thought of it, he
should be the one to go get it.”