The Indian Burial Ground Mystery (9 page)

“Is that you, children?” Mrs. Belden called from her bedroom.

“Yes, Moms,” Trixie answered. Then she switched off the downstairs hall
light and climbed slowly up the stairs. Mrs. Belden always kept the light on
when the children were out late.

As she closed her bedroom door behind her, Trixie tried to organize the
events of the night in a logical way. She realized with a start that in all the
excitement of the burglary, she had completely forgotten to mention the ghost
to anyone. She was glad that Honey and Di had seen it, too, so she couldn’t be
accused of making things up. But who could it have been? Who would want to go
to the trouble of putting on such a creepy charade to scare them away?

Trixie considered the possible suspects. There was Charles Miller, of
course. He was trying awfully hard to get her and Honey away from the village
site. But Charles Miller hadn’t been in Sleepyside tonight. He was working in
the city, as usual.

It could have been Harry, too. But Harry drove a yellow Volkswagen, and
that gave Trixie the idea that he was busy doing something else
tonight—something far more lucrative than scaring a bunch of girls in the
woods!

It was confusing. If Trixie’s figuring was correct, both men would have
to have been in two places at the same time. And that was impossible.

Trixie decided to sleep on it, and hoped that some answers would come to
her by morning. As her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep, dreamless
sleep.

At breakfast
the next morning, Trixie
was greeted by a very worried Helen Belden.

“Good morning, Moms,” she said with a puzzled look at her mother.

“Oh, Trixie, I’m so upset. Have you seen Reddy?” Mrs. Belden’s forehead
was furrowed with concern. “He wasn’t in the house this morning, and he isn’t
outside, either. Did he come home with you last night?”

Trixie’s hand flew up to her mouth in horror. “Oh, no!” she gasped. “He
was with us in the woods, but he went off with Mart and Dan when they went for
the shovels. I didn’t see him after that. I forgot—I mean, what with the
burglary and everything!”

“The burglary!” Now it was Mrs. Belden’s turn to look shocked. “What
burglary?” While Trixie ate her cereal, she told her mother what had happened
at the Manor House the night before.

“So, you see,” she finished lamely, “I wasn’t even thinking about Reddy.
I guess I just assumed that he came home while we were talking to Sergeant
Molinson
.”

“This is dreadful,” said Mrs. Belden. “I hope they catch the crooks. But
I’m worried about Reddy. It’s very unusual for him to stay out all night like
this.”

“Should I start looking for him right now?” Trixie asked. “I could miss work
today.”

“Oh no, dear,” Mrs. Belden said as she cleared the table distractedly.
“I would be happier if you went to work. I’ll look for him this morning. I’m
sure he’ll turn up someplace. I just don’t want to upset Bobby. You know how he
gets.”

“If he isn’t home by this afternoon,” Trixie said, “I’ll look for him
instead of going to the dig.”

“Darling, it’s 7:30,” Mrs. Belden said. “I think you’d better get going.
I’ll make a few calls before Bobby gets up. Maybe a neighbor has seen Reddy.”

Trixie grabbed her cap, and headed for the door. “See you later, Moms,”
she called as the door banged behind her.

Trixie was very busy all morning at the hospital. She was so worried
about Reddy that she called home on her break. But no one answered the phone.
It was close to 12 o’clock before she had a chance to look in on Professor
Conroy.

Trixie opened the stairwell door to the second floor, and started down
the corridor. But she stopped short when she saw Professor Conroy’s door open,
and Harry step into the hall! He glanced briefly in Trixie’s direction, then
disappeared around the corner, heading for the elevators.

Trixie’s breath caught in her throat. Then she relaxed.
I guess he
didn’t recognize me in this candy-striper uniform,
she thought.
I
wonder what he’s doing here, and why he’s visiting Professor Conroy?

Then Trixie had a horrible thought—Harry was Charles Miller’s friend,
not Professor Conroy’s. And it was Charles, she suspected, who had put
Professor Conroy in the hospital in the first place! That might mean Harry was
going to harm the professor, too.

Trixie broke into a run. She flung open the door to the professor’s
room.

“Oh, hello there, Miss Belden,” the professor said when he saw Trixie
come running in. “My, my, you certainly do rush around.” Relieved to see that
the professor was all right, Trixie suddenly felt silly for the way she’d come
barging in. She started to apologize. “I-I’m so sorry, Professor Conroy,” she
stammered. “I hope I didn’t alarm you.”

“Oh, no. Don’t give it a second thought,” he replied, smiling
cheerfully. “It can get very dull just lying in bed all day without talking to
anyone.”

Trixie moved closer to the bed. She could see that Professor Conroy
seemed to be in good spirits, yet he looked much sicker than he had the day
before. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his skin looked pale
and gray.

“I just saw someone come out of your room,” Trixie said, filled with
concern. “Are you well enough to have visitors?”

Professor Conroy glanced at her sharply. “I had no visitors,” he said.
“You must be mistaken.”

“Why, I could have sworn I saw Harry coming out of—” Trixie began, but
she stopped when she saw a look of irritation sweep over Professor Conroy’s
face.

“Miss Belden,” he said, “perhaps whoever you
think
you saw
was coming out of some other room.”

Embarrassed, Trixie looked down at her feet.
I know what I saw,
she thought.
After all, there’s only a vacant room and a supply closet at
this end of the hall. What would Harry be doing in the supply closet?

Her eyes came to rest on a pair of shoes neatly placed at the side of
the bed. They were caked with thick, sticky mud.
The professor shouldn’t
be wearing shoes here. He should have some slippers,
she thought. Then
Trixie remembered that the professor had come to the hospital unexpectedly.
Perhaps
he doesn’t have slippers, and no one thought to bring him any, either.

“Why, you don’t have any slippers,” Trixie said in a rush of concern.
“Would you like me to bring you a pair? They’ll be more comfortable than these
shoes.”

Professor Conroy chuckled. “Very kind of you to think of it, but I don’t
need slippers, or even shoes, for that matter. The good doctor has told me I
can’t get up at all, not even to use the facilities. Most distressing.”

“Oh. Would you like me to put these away for you, then?”

“If you please. Most kind of you, most kind.” Thinking that sometime she
would clean the mud off the professor’s shoes, Trixie put them in the closet.
Then she fluffed up the sick man’s pillows.

Before leaving the room, Trixie said, “Feel free to ask me for anything
you need, Professor Conroy. I’d be glad to help you anytime.” Then she backed
out the door.

“Most kind,” the professor muttered drowsily. He closed his eyes and
turned his head away from her.

“The poor professor,” Trixie said to Honey that afternoon as they made
their way to the dig site. “He looks even worse today than he did yesterday.”

“I guess he took quite a knock on the head,” Honey answered.

“Maybe Charles hit him harder than he’d intended,” Trixie said grimly.
“And that reminds me, Reddy didn’t come home last night. If Moms hasn’t found
him yet, we should look for him in the woods, or ask the students if they’ve
seen him.”

“Reddy’s probably at the dig right now,” Honey said, trying to sound
reassuring. “Remember, they have cookouts over the fire. He was probably lured
by the smell of hot dogs and hamburgers.”

“I hope you’re right,” Trixie said with a sigh. “Moms is really worried
about him.”

“I’m worried, too,” Honey said. “It was nice of your mom to make us this
picnic lunch, anyway.”

“Well, she wanted us to start looking for Reddy right away,” Trixie
said. “She thought we’d waste time if we ate at home first.” Trixie and Honey
trudged along the road. When they came to the main dig site, they saw a truck
parked near the tents. Charles Miller and a short, heavyset man were having a
loud conversation. Several graduate students were standing around listening
with interest. As the girls got closer, they were able to hear better.

“I don’t give a hoot what your piece of paper says,” Charles was
snarling at the man. “I have a copy of our order here, and it says, ‘Five dozen
cartons of three-by-five cards, ten boxes of large manila envelopes, two
cartons of self-adhesive labels, and a gross of flat, corrugated cartons.’ I won’t
accept this delivery, and that’s final!”

“Look, buddy,” the man replied sullenly, “all this slip says is to
deliver a hundred cases of printed envelopes to Professor Conroy at the Wheeler
game preserve, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Take it or leave it.”

“I’m leaving it,” Charles snapped. “I refuse to sign for this delivery,
and furthermore, I’m going right down to the U.P.S. office and clear up this
whole mess with your supervisor.” With that, Charles stalked off the dig site.
The delivery man got back into his truck, and drove off in a cloud of dust.
Charles jumped into Professor Conroy’s jeep and followed right behind him.

“That takes care of Charles Miller for the afternoon,” Trixie said with
a satisfied smile. “Let’s go back to the village site and see if we can find
out any more about who was digging that hole and why. We were interrupted last
night, but I doubt if we’ll be interrupted this afternoon.”

The two girls rushed down the little path through the woods. Halfway to
the clearing, Trixie stopped short.

“Look!” she gasped, pointing her finger through the undergrowth.

Harry’s yellow Volkswagen was parked in the woods, just off the path.
The left front fender was dented, and a large area had lost its paint.

“See,” Trixie said, “that looks like a brand-new scratch, too. It isn’t
rusted.”

“What do you mean, ‘see’?” Honey asked. “You know, sometimes you talk in
riddles, Trixie Belden.”

Trixie was about to answer when she heard muffled barking coming from a
short distance away.

“Reddy!” she shouted, and she broke into a run.

There was no Reddy in the clearing. But oddly, the muffled barking was
now even louder.

“Where
is
that silly dog,” Trixie muttered as she prowled
around the edge of the clearing. “I can hear him, but I haven’t the slightest
idea where he is.”

Following the sound of his barks, Trixie went a short distance farther.
Suddenly her foot slipped. Before she could grab hold of anything, she found
herself shooting down a muddy incline at the base of a fat old tree stump.

She hit bottom with a spine-jarring thud. Luckily, the camper’s
flashlight she had hooked to her belt didn’t break. The next thing she knew, a
delirious Reddy was jumping all over her. She hugged the dog gratefully and
took a look around. It was pitch black except for a jagged circle of light
above her head.

She was in a cave!

“Trixie!” Honey’s worried voice filtered through the blackness that
surrounded her.

“Over here!” Trixie called out. But before she had a chance to yell, “Be
careful!” Honey came sliding down into the cave with her.

Reddy was delighted to have so much company, but the girls were
miserable.

“There has to be a way out of here,” Trixie moaned. Great clumps of dirt
landed on her head as she tried to scale the slippery side of the cave. She
lost her footing again and again. “Maybe if you give me a boost, I could reach
the edge.”

But try as they might, they couldn’t get out.

Trixie and Honey were stuck.

“Maybe we should yell,” Honey suggested. “One of the students might hear
us and pull us out.”

“Good thinking,” Trixie said. “Let’s yell together. One, two, three...”

“Hel-l-l-
lp
! Hel-l-l-
lp
!”

Moments later, the girls were exhausted, and they gave up. It was
obvious that they were too far from the main dig site for their voices to
carry. The cave was damp and cold. It smelled of old mushrooms and rotting
vegetation. Trixie didn’t like it one bit. Finally, the two sat down and leaned
back against the wall.

Trixie closed her eyes and sighed. It was getting late. Only a small
shaft of light came through the hole above them. When night came, it would be
darker than pitch. Trixie knew she couldn’t leave her flashlight on for
long—the batteries would give out. “Maybe we should try and rest,” she said to
Honey.

But her rest didn’t last long. It was interrupted by a rustling sound
nearby.

Trixie leapt to her feet. It was Reddy. His nose was buried in the
paper-bag lunch that Mrs. Belden had packed for them.

“Of course!” Trixie said, patting the dog’s head. “You poor thing. You
haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“See, Trixie,” Honey said with a laugh. “With your usual presence of
mind, you held onto the picnic lunch while you were falling into the cave. At
least we won’t starve to death now.”

“I feel just like
Alice
in Wonderland,” Trixie said as she fed Reddy a bologna sandwich. “Remember the
part where she fell down the hole?”

Honey giggled. “Maybe the White Rabbit will come and get us out.”

“Better the White Rabbit than that awful Charles Miller,” Trixie said.
But she didn’t feel like laughing.

“Charles Miller is the only person who ever comes to this part of the
woods,” Honey said thoughtfully. “He might be our only hope.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Trixie answered gloomily. “What if he finds
us, but refuses to help us get out?”

Trixie knew that Charles Miller was looking for a cave. And it was
beginning to look as if Trixie and Honey had found the very cave Charles was
looking for. If he had resorted to knocking Professor Conroy over the head to
get him out of the way, what would he do to keep Trixie and Honey from getting
his treasure? Trixie shuddered. Absolutely no one knew where they were. She
hoped Charles Miller wouldn’t figure that out. They might never get out of this
cave alive!