The Mystery at Mead's Mountain Read online

  Your TRIXIE BELDEN Library

  1

  The Secret of the Mansion

  2

  The Red Trailer Mystery

  3

  The Gatehouse Mystery

  4

  The Mysterious Visitor

  5

  The Mystery Off Glen Road

  6

  Mystery in Arizona

  7

  The Mysterious Code

  8

  The Black Jacket Mystery

  9

  The Happy Valley Mystery

  10

  The Marshland Mystery

  11

  The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

  12

  The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

  13

  The Mystery on Cobbett’s Island

  14

  The Mystery of the Emeralds

  15

  Mystery on the Mississippi

  16

  The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

  17

  The Mystery of the Uninvited Guest

  18

  The Mystery of the Phantom Grasshopper

  19

  The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

  20

  The Mystery Off Old Telegraph Road

  21

  The Mystery of the Castaway Children

  22

  Mysteryat Mead’s Mountain

  23

  The Mystery of the Queen’s Necklace (new)

  24

  Mysteryat Saratoga (new)

  25

  The Sasquatch Mystery (new)

  26

  The Mystery of the Headless Horseman (new)

  27

  The Mystery of the Ghostly Galleon (new)

  28

  The Hudson River Mystery (neu;,)

  © 1978 by Western Publishing Company, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Produced in U.S.A.

  GOLDEN®, GOLDEN PRESS®, and TRIXIE BELDEN® are registered trademarks of Western Publishing Company, Inc.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or copied in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  0-307-21593-8

  All names, characters, and events in this story are entirely fictitious.

  Mr. Wheeler’s Plan • 1

  TRIXIE, TRIXIE, wait up!” called Honey, pushing her way through the crowded corridor of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson Junior-Senior High School.

  “Honey Wheeler, where have you been?” demanded Trixie. She tossed her short blond curls in pretended anger, but the twinkle in her blue eyes showed that she wasn’t really upset with her best friend. “I waited outside your math class so we could go to lunch together. When you didn’t come out, I decided you’d already gone to your locker, but you weren’t there either. Come on, I’m famished!”

  “I got called out of math to take a phone call,” Honey explained as the two girls joined the flow of hall traffic. “It was Daddy calling from his office in New York. He asked me to invite all of the Bob-Whites to a special dinner tonight. He said you should all come early and exercise the horses before dinner. And listen to this,” she commanded, her normally calm voice full of excitement. “After dinner he wants to discuss something with us. He won’t tell me what it is. All he said was it’s a surprise he thinks we’ll really like!”

  “Gleeps!” Trixie exclaimed. “Your father comes up with the neatest surprises, like the trips to Cobbett’s Island and St. Louis, and the Bob-White station wagon, not that we can afford to keep it, with the cost of insurance and all. Do you think it’s something really neat like that?”

  “I don’t have any idea, Trixie. You and your brothers will come, won’t you?” Honey begged.

  “Of course—” Trixie began. Then she moaned. They had been walking down the stairs, and abruptly Trixie sat down on a step. “Today is the day before the garden club’s Christmas bazaar,” she said gloomily. “Moms is in charge of it, and Brian, Mart, and I promised to go over there right after school and help her set up booths. We’ll probably be there till late tonight. I’d much rather go riding and hear what your father has to say than set up—yipes!” She jumped to her feet to avoid being trampled by a crowd of boys that came thundering down the stairs.

  Honey took Trixie’s arm and pulled her out of the way. “You and your brothers have got to come,” she pleaded. “Why don’t you call your mother just to see what she says? Maybe the three of you could come over for dessert,” she suggested.

  “Good idea,” agreed Trixie, her face brightening. “I just know your father’s got something really exciting to discuss, and Moms can be pretty softhearted around Christmastime. Maybe if we promise to work super hard until time for dessert....”

  “Your mother is softhearted all the time, Trixie Belden, and you know it. I’d come and help with the bazaar if I could, but Regan will have a fit if some one isn’t there to exercise the horses.”

  “We certainly don’t need Regan upset with us,” Trixie decided. “If he quit, then your father would be mad at us because he could never find another groom like Regan. He’d probably be so mad he’d forget to tell us his surprise!”

  Honey laughed. “Go call your mother,” she said, giving Trixie a gentle shove. “I’ll meet you at our table. I want to tell the other Bob-Whites about the surprise.”

  As Trixie made her way down the hall toward the pay phone, she thought of how much Honey’s friendship meant to her. So much had happened since they’d met each other. Probably the most important thing was the forming of the Bob-Whites of the Glen, the club that included Trixie, her look-alike brother, Mart, and their older brother, Brian. Honey and her adopted brother, Jim Frayne, were also members, along with Diana Lynch, who was fourteen like Trixie and Honey, and Dan Mangan, nephew of Regan, the Wheelers’ groom.

  Knowing Honey had also led to all of the mysteries.

  Shortly after Trixie and Honey became friends, things just started “happening,” and the two found themselves constantly involved in solving mysteries. Handsome Jim Frayne had been the subject of two of their first cases. Their mysteries kept life very exciting for all of the Bob-Whites.

  Friendship with Honey had meant many grand times at Manor House, the Wheeler estate. It was a large mansion with extensive grounds that included stables, a lake, and a three-hundred-acre game preserve.

  Trixie thought affectionately of her own mother, who worked so hard making a nice home for her family at Crabapple Farm, and of her father, who worked at the bank in Sleepyside. Trixie found satisfaction in working for what she had, and she appreciated the Bob-Whites’ policy of each member’s contributing to the club only money that he or she had earned.

  She felt so lucky to have the nicest family and the best friends in the entire world. And on top of all that, there was always another mystery waiting to be solved. Maybe Mr. Wheeler’s surprise would lead to still another... if she could just get Moms to let them go for dessert.

  By the time Trixie joined the Bob-Whites at their usual table in the cafeteria, they had almost finished eating and were busy speculating about Mr. Wheeler’s surprise.

  “Pray tell, lunchless lady, what tidings thou bearest,” hailed Mart, who loved to use fancy language to tease his sister. “Not that you’ll be lunchless for long,” he added dryly.

  “If you mean ‘what’s the news,’ I can tell you the news is good,” retorted Trixie between bites of her tuna fish sandwich. “Moms says okay for dessert— and for dinner, too!”

  Amid the Belden boys’ cheers, Trixie continued, “Moms got more done today than she thought she would, so we just have to help with some last-minute things. We’ll have to help right up until dinner, though. So the ride is out. Moms didn
’t have any idea what Mr. Wheeler’s surprise is. Do you, Jim?”

  “Not even a notion, but the only way to find out is to wait and see,” he said philosophically, looking at Honey’s apple wistfully. “Sisters sure come in handy, don’t they?” he observed after Honey motioned that she’d had enough to eat.

  “Hmmm,” Trixie mused, lost in thought, “this is all very mysterious, isn’t it?”

  “Nothing’s mysterious about having a handy sister, just lucky,” gibed Mart, eyeing Trixie’s apple. “I myself am not that lucky, cursed as I am with an ever-ravenous kinswoman.”

  Trixie took a deliberately noisy bite out of her apple. “I don’t mean about sisters, birdbrain,” she said, “I mean about Mr. W7heeler’s surprise.”

  “Maybe we’d better quit thinking about that for now and get down to something more urgent—our Bob-White car,” Brian said. “In case you’ve all forgotten, the first of the year is coming up, which means our car insurance payment is due.”

  “Ouch,” remarked Mart, who was the treasurer of the club. “Our coffers are unlikely to withstand the strain of buying a postage stamp to mail the payment, much less buying the insurance itself!”

  “We’ll just have to earn some money,” Trixie said. “Christmas vacation is coming up. We’ll have to find work.”

  “If you keep eating like that,” teased Mart, “you’ll make a fine department-store Santa Claus, minus the beard.”

  “Cut it out, Mart,” said Trixie. “There’s got to be lots of odd jobs we could do.”

  “Nothing that would bring in as much money as we need,” Mart argued. “Let’s be realistic...

  “Knock it off, you two,” Jim broke in. “But Mart’s right, Trixie. It would take a long time to earn as much as we need doing odd jobs.”

  The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. “Things will work out,” Trixie insisted, finishing up her apple. “They always do when we set our minds to it.”

  “Personally, I don’t think there’s anything we can do but sell the car,” said Brian seriously.

  “We can’t let that happen!” cried Di.

  “Maybe Daddy will give us the money,” Honey suggested. “We just can’t lose the Bob-White car!”

  “Honey, you know the club rule about contributing only money we earn ourselves,” Jim reminded her.

  “One thing is sure,” Dan put in. “If we sold the car, we’d have enough for the insurance.”

  “I think we’re too upset to think straight,” Jim decided. “Why don’t we just let it simmer in the back of our minds till tonight? After Dad finishes talking with us, we can have a special Bob-White meeting to sort everything out.”

  The others agreed that was a good idea and then hurried off to their classes.

  All during dinner that evening, Mr. Wheeler kept from mentioning his surprise and teasingly changed the subject whenever someone else mentioned it. Finally, after a delicious dessert of French pastries, the Bob-Whites, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, and Miss Trask, the manager of the Wheeler household, all settled into comfortable chairs in the living room.

  “Mmmm,” Mart groaned, patting his stomach, “that roast venison from your game preserve was the pièce de résistance of an outstanding meal. I couldn’t eat another bite, and that’s really saying something.”

  “We love to have you here, Mart,” said Mrs. Wheeler pleasantly. “Cook is especially delighted—you appreciate her efforts so much.”

  “I can’t think of a nobler goal in life than delighting Cook,” said Mart grandly. “Anyone who has elevated cuisine to such an art deserves as much delight as possible. Matter of fact...”

  “Jeepers, Mart, let Mr. Wheeler talk! Please, won’t you tell us your surprise now, Mr. Wheeler?” begged Trixie.

  Mr. Wheeler laughed indulgently at Trixie’s impatience but agreed that it was time to break the suspense. He got up and strode across the room to the fireplace. He leaned against it, his bright red hair contrasting vividly with the snowy woods scene in the priceless painting that hung over the mantel.

  “As you all know,” he began, “my company is involved in many business ventures, and we’re always looking for promising new investments. Do you remember George Kimball, our neighbor at Cobbett’s Island?”

  “Sure,” Jim answered. “We had a great time swimming and sailing with his son, Peter.”

  “Do you remember that George was looking for a ski lodge to buy?” prompted Mr. Wheeler.

  “Oh, yes,” recalled Honey. “Did he find one?”

  “He found the beginnings of one and approached me with a very special plan for it,” her father replied. “He and I may become partners in the venture. It’s in a beautiful area of Vermont. Originally there was going to be a fancy resort and a full-scale downhill ski course. However, the developers have had a number of problems and are ready to give up. Before running out of patience and financing, they managed to build a very nice lodge, several rope tows, and one chair lift. What George and I hope to do is turn the entire project into a natural recreation area, leaving the land as undisturbed as possible. In the winter, there’d be cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and skating, with camping, fishing, and hiking in the summer. We’d keep the social center and restaurant at the lodge open year-round.”

  “Dad, that’s terrific!” exclaimed Jim.

  “We really need more natural recreation areas in this country,” Brian agreed.

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” beamed Mr. Wheeler, “because we’re hoping to aim this project at spirited young people like you. George and I have decided we’ve got to get firsthand impressions from that type of person. I am hiring a group of professionals to study all the facilities and make a full report back to me, but they won’t be able to give me that young person’s viewpoint.”

  Trixie sucked in her breath. She suddenly knew what Mr. Wheeler was going to say next.

  “So I also want to send in others who can give me that information,” continued Mr. Wheeler, his voice businesslike but his eyes twinkling. “And I don’t know anyone who would do a better job than the Bob-Whites. That is, if you want the job...

  Mr. Wheeler found himself drowned out by a chorus of shouts: “Wow!”

  “Terrific!”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Gleeps!”

  “What does he mean, do we want the job?!” Then level-headed Brian spoke up. “But, sir, I really don’t see how we could possibly take the job, what with school and our chores and all.”

  Mr. Wheeler walked back to his chair and sat down. “That’s why I wanted to get you all here tonight,” he said, unperturbed. “We want to get started right away. With the Christmas holidays coming up next week, I thought you might like to go then.”

  “It sounds fantastic, Mr. Wheeler, but we Beldens can’t possibly go,” said Trixie despondently. “Moms and Dad are planning a big open house on Saturday, the twenty-sixth. They’ll need all of our help.”

  “For shame, Trixie,” Mr. Wheeler chuckled. “I wouldn’t think of letting you and the boys leave until you help your parents with the vast mountain of dirty dishes they’re going to have. And speaking of mountain,” he went on, noting the hopeful expression returning to Trixie’s face, “that’s the name of the lodge —Mead’s Mountain. The plan would be for all of you and Miss Trask to fly up to Groverville—which is about half an hour from Mead’s Mountain—on my private plane Saturday night, after everything is cleaned up from your party. If you stay for a week, that should be enough time to get the feel of the place, and you will have a day or two to rest up at home before going back to school again. I’d go with you, but Mrs. Wheeler and I will be leaving that morning for business in Alaska.”

  “This would all sound terrific if we could get Moms and Dad to agree,” said Brian excitedly. “Do you think we can, Mart?”

  “Don’t ask me,” said Mart, his eyes closing. “I’m already whizzing across the countryside in the gelid mountain air, stimulating my appetite for a nourishing cup of
hot chocolate sipped before a roaring fire....”

  “Oh, I have a feeling your parents will agree,” Miss Trask answered Brian confidently. “Why don’t we tell them the history of Mead’s Mountain?” she suggested, turning to Mr. Wheeler. “I’m sure they’d be interested, especially Trixie.”

  “Uh-oh.” Mart snapped to attention. “You did say Mead’s Mountain, not Mystery Mountain, correct?” Mr. Wheeler grinned. “Yes, the mountain is named after Thomas L. Mead, one of the first trappers in that area. He was a cranky character who wasn’t very friendly. When other people started to settle in that territory, he tried to drive them out by burning their cabins and crops. In spite of his efforts, the town of Groverville was established. Eventually he was caught and hanged in the town square. From that time on, whenever something unexplained would occur, the townspeople would blame it on the ghost of Thomas Mead, later known as the ghost of Mead’s Mountain. In fact, some people even claimed to have seen a ghostly man with long white hair wandering around the mountain.”

  Despite Mart’s sarcastic query, Trixie felt a small shiver of excitement and fear go down her spine.

  “For example,” Mr. Wheeler continued, “when problems cropped up with the plans to build the downhill ski resort on the mountain, some people said the lodge must be haunted.”

  “What type of things went wrong, Mr. Wheeler?” asked Dan.

  “Oh, normal things that can plague any large business venture,” he replied. “They had trouble getting enough financing, and trouble with the unions, and on top of that, some equipment breakdowns. But the resort is finally operating on a limited scale now. A young couple, Pat and Katie O’Brien, are the new caretakers. I told them I’d let them know tomorrow if you’re coming. I hope you can all let me know tonight. Of course, all your expenses will be paid, and then there’s the matter of salary...