The Happy Valley Mystery Page 4

  “About all we seem to be able to do is to make things tougher for Mr. Gorman,” Brian said. “We might as well go back,” he added dejectedly. “Say, Jim, I can’t believe that’s all the flock, can you? Can you, Trixie? If that’s over two hundred sheep, they’re surely making better time now than they did when we put them in the shelter field.”

  “It isn’t all of them,” Trixie said, “and Tip knows it. Listen to him!”

  Tip, following Mr. Gorman’s sharp command to him and to Tag, circled the wet mass of sheep and drove them on. Now and then, however, he ran back to where the Bob-Whites waited. He jumped up to pull at Trixie’s sleeve, ran off into the blurred half-light of the snow, then ran back again to rub his wet body against Jim’s jeans.

  “That dog is trying to tell someone something,” Honey said. “Mr. Gorman and the sheep are out of hearing now. They must be near the shelter lot. Let’s see if we can follow Tip.”

  “That’s not so easy,” Diana said. “I’m soaked through.

  I don’t especially want to wander around in much more, of this snow, anyway.”

  “You come with us,” Trixie said. “You could never find your way to the house by yourself. This is fun, Di! It’s not cold at all, and who cares about getting a little bit wet?”

  “We’ve been wetter than this a thousand times, skiing and tobogganing,” Honey said. “But I honestly don’t see much sense in it myself, Trixie. Don’t you suppose Mr. Gorman knows when he has all his sheep?”

  “I suppose he does but maybe not as well as the dogs do,” Trixie answered. “You just wait till Mr. Gorman gets that flock where he wants it and the gate locked. He’ll know all the sheep aren’t there, and he’ll come back here hunting Tip to see what he’s up to. I’m all for following the dog now. How about you, Brian? Jim? Mart? Honey? Di, you’ll just have to come with us.”

  “I’m for it,” Jim answered.

  “Me, too,” Honey said, close behind Brian, who patted Tip’s wet head. “If we don’t get going,” she said, “Tip is going to wiggle right out of his skin.”

  “What’s keeping us?” Mart called. “Wait a minute, Trix... Trixie, where are you?”

  “Through the fence and halfway down the hill,” she called back. The snow had thinned a little, and, in the beam from her flashlight, she could see the deep gully ahead. “Tip’s gone crazy,” she shouted. “I know some lost sheep must be around here someplace... but where?”

  Slipping and sliding, the other Bob-Whites followed Trixie under the fence wires and down the slope. “There’s not a thing down here!” Mart said. “Sheep couldn’t get through the fence if they tried.”

  “Tell it to Tip!” Trixie shouted back. “I’ll trust him. Listen to him bark!”

  “Come back from that gully!” Jim shouted. “Trixie, stay away from there. Wait! It’s dangerous!”

  A branched dead tree had fallen across the ravine. It made a natural bridge, and Trixie started over it, following Tip.

  “What’s bothering you?” she called back. “It’s safe enough, Jim. We have to get over to the other side. I’m coming, Tip.... Jeepers! Help! Jim! Help!”

  Down she went, breaking through tie branches of the dead tree... down... the collie hurtling after her. And then, just as the rest of the Bob-Whites reached the gully’s edge, Trixie’s voice came up to them. “I’m... all... right... but, gleeps, look what I found!”

  She had landed right in the middle of a dozen or more fat ewes. The snow, held up by the web of branches, had formed a shed for the wandering animals. Far more frightened by Trixie’s presence than she was by her fall, sheep baaed and bleated, tried vainly to get up the sides of the gully, and fell back, floundering.

  “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” Jim asked anxiously as he and Brian let themselves cautiously down into the slush of the creek bed.

  “I’m sure of it,” Trixie said. “I just had my breath knocked out. And I’m a sight... all covered with mud. The poor sheep are in worse shape. What will they do? They can’t ever get out of here, Jim. They’ll just die. We’ll have to have Mr. Gorman’s help. Jim!” A sudden thought struck Trixie. “Jim, do you suppose this could solve the mystery of the disappearing sheep? Do you suppose they fell in this ravine and couldn’t get out?”

  “Gosh, no,” Jim said. “Mr. Gorman would have looked here first thing.”

  “Sure,” Brian said, “and the dogs would have tracked the sheep if they wandered in here. Tip even found them in die storm. Say, where is the storm now?”

  “It’s gone!” Mart said from above them.

  “Even stars in the sky!” Diana exclaimed.

  “Iowa weather is funnier than Westchester County weather, if that’s possible,” Honey said. “Mart, what are you doing?”

  “Trying to find my way to where Jim and Trixie and Brian are,” Mart said, “and it looks as though I’ll have to fall down, the way Trixie did.”

  “Just don’t come down here at all,” Trixie said. “Someone has to go and find Mr. Gorman.”

  “Someone has to tell us how to get out of here and how to get the sheep out,” Jim added. “Mart, suppose you and the girls go back to the house and bring Mr. Gorman. Tell him where we are and what Trixie found.”

  “All right,” Mart said, “but it’s my opinion that he’d rather not see any Bob-Whites right now.”

  “We have given him a tough time,” Jim agreed. “However, go and find him now, please.”

  “Do that, Mart,” Trixie added, “or we’ll have to start swimming. The slush down here is over my galoshes!”

  “It’s a real mess,” Brian said. “Mart!”

  Mart didn’t answer. He and Diana and Honey were on their way to get help.

  Trixie’s Discovery • 5

  BACK AT THE FARM, Mr. Gorman, with the help of Tag, had succeeded in corralling the flock where they could quickly seek shelter under the thatched sheds. He had just dropped the bar to lock the gate, when Mart appeared with the two girls.

  He seemed too weary to say anything. He just whistled for Tag and started out toward the pasture again. Somewhere out there, he was sure, about twelve of his best sheep were still marooned.

  “Mr. Gorman, sir!” Mart called, and he sloshed hurriedly through the snow to where the farm manager halted, waiting for him. “Mr. Gorman,” he said breathlessly, “Trixie found the rest of the sheep!”

  “Trixie found them?” Mr. Gorman repeated.

  “In the gully. She fell in on top of them,” Mart told him, then explained.

  “The gully, of all places,” Mr. Gorman said and dropped his arms with a sigh of exhaustion. “It’ll be a night’s work to get them out of there. Where are Brian and Jim? And where’s Trixie now?”

  When Mart told him they were keeping the sheep company in the ravine, he had no comment. “You’ll have to help me,” he said. “Go over to the house, girls, and get some dry clothing. You’ll just be in the way out here,” he insisted as Honey and Diana started to follow him and Mart. “My wife is worried now about all of you. I’m sure of that,” he said. “Please go and tell her what’s going on.”

  Then, as the girls obeyed him, he said to Mart, “We’ll have to get a short ladder so they can climb out of that gully, and then we’ll have to try and get the sheep out. It’s going to take some doing.”

  Mart followed Mr. Gorman to the big barn, where the farm manager took a ladder from a hook on the wall and handed it to Mart, then found a shovel, a short-handled ax, and a bag of cracked com. “Lead the way, Mart,” he said, “if you have any idea where to go. It’s a long gully, and the sheep could have wandered into it in half a dozen places. What a night!” For the first time in many a day, Mart didn’t have a word to say. He took up his share of the strange objects Mr. Gorman had assembled and just plodded ahead.

  Back in the ravine, now that the snow had stopped, the ewes made an attempt to dry themselves. “Have a heart!” Trixie begged. “Heavens, what are you doing?” Standing well apart from one another, the ewes shoo
k their bodies, soaking Trixie and Jim and Brian. Then, to dry their heads, they shook them so fast that nothing but a blur could be seen.

  “Poor sheep!” Trixie said, trying to keep out of the way. “What a load of water their fleece holds!”

  The combined shaking of heads and bodies sounded like distant thunder.

  “Poor sheep,” Brian imitated Trixie. “Poor us, I’d say. It’s a cloudburst!”

  “Mr. Gorman surely can’t still be cross at us when he sees the mess we’re in,” Trixie said and hugged her shoulders. “Golly, but I’m cold!”

  The farm manager, relieved to find both Bob-Whites and sheep safe, wasn’t angry at all. “Good work, Trixie!” he said. “I was afraid for a while I’d never find the rest of the sheep in time to save them.”

  “Jeepers, I didn’t do anything except stumble on to them,” Trixie said. “Tip is the one who found them. Say, Mr. Gorman, did you ever get in the way of a sheep trying to shake itself dry?”

  In spite of the strain he was under, Mr- Gorman had to laugh. “So that’s what almost drowned you.”

  “Yes,” Trixie said, trying to wring out the hem of her heavy sweater. “Mr. Gorman, we’ll never get them out of here.”

  “Oh, yes, we will!” Mr. Gorman said, and he picked up the shovel and went down the ladder. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, by any means. Even with the ravine fenced off, they have a way of getting through. Why, you’re shaking, Trixie. Here, take my sweater. I’ve another under it, and I’ll be warm enough when I get at this job. Give me a hand here, boys.” He handed the ax to Jim. “Go up,” he said, “and chop off a few of the stoutest branches from that tree spanning the gully. Trixie, if you get through that wall of sheep, please go down a way and see if you can find a slope not quite as steep as this one.”

  Trixie jumped ahead to do his bidding. “Where’s Tip?” she asked, suddenly aware that the dog wasn’t with them.

  “He got out and came back, so I shut both of them up in the barn,” Mr. Gorman said. “They’d have driven us crazy, and the sheep, too. We’ll follow you, Trixie, as soon as Jim cuts the branches.”

  Because the sheep had crowded so close to Trixie for warmth, they followed her now, like a dozen Mary’s little lambs. Not far away she found a gentler slope of wall and called back to tell Mr. Gorman, who, with the boys, soon joined her.

  “We’ll make a sort of ramp,” he said, attacking the bank with his shovel, “with shallow steps, then lay the branches on them so the sheep can get a foothold. That’s right, Mart! We’ll have the stairs made in no time.” Trixie watched, fascinated, and did her best to keep the restless sheep out of the way.

  “Now,” Mr. Gorman, said to her, “take a handful of the cracked com out of this bag. Just let them smell it. Don’t give them any right now. Sooooo—sheep! Baaa— sooooo!” he commanded. “There, Trixie, spread a little of the corn over that lower step.”

  Trixie did as she was told. As each step was dug out, she followed after Mr. Gorman and the boys and sprinkled some cracked com. She watched anxiously then, as one of the ewes started to nibble timidly at the lower foothold, then struggled up to the next one. Others followed the lead sheep. Soon all were out of the gully and on solid ground.

  At Mr. Gorman’s bidding, the boys held up the lower fence wires, and Trixie helped the manager to herd the protesting ewes through and toward the home field.

  Back home, when the sheep were safe in the sheltered fold, the weary five went into the house. Mrs. Gorman, Honey, and Diana had gone to bed, but they had left food and hot coffee.

  “We’re surely sorry we caused you all this trouble,” Trixie said. “Maybe we can make up for it someway... you know... we just 'might be able to find some clue that will help you find the stolen sheep.”

  “Don’t worry anymore about anything, Trixie,” Mr. Gorman said, rubbing his head wearily. “It all turned out all right tonight. In the first place, I should have remembered to tell you to lock the gate. As for the stolen sheep, that’s a problem for the law, not for girls and boys. I’m sorry I was so cross tonight. Mr. Belden wanted you to have fun. This business tonight can’t qualify as fun, but it surely can be called adventure.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Mart called back as the boys started through the back door for their quarters in the barn. “And adventure is Trixie’s middle name, isn’t it, Trix, old girl?”

  Trixie didn’t answer. She was halfway up the stairs. Not a problem for boys and girls, she said to herself. Then why hasn’t that sheriff discovered even one little tiny clue by this time? Jeepers, Honey and I have solved far bigger mysteries than this one! Not for boys and girls, she repeated. I’ll show theml

  On the Trail • 6

  TUESDAY THE SKIES were sunny. The mood of the day was reflected in the faces of everyone at the breakfast table at Happy Valley Farm. The trouble of the night before seemed to be forgotten.

  “Around noon I’ll let the sheep out into the pastures again,” Mr. Gorman said. “There’s hardly a trace of the snow left. Unfortunately, as it melts, all that water will get to the river, and sooner or later there’s liable to be trouble there. Do you think you can all find something to do today?” he asked the Bob-Whites.

  “We’d like to help you,” Jim said. “Is there anything a bunch of amateurs can do?”

  “I don’t plan to do much outside of the house today,” the manager said. “Ben will probably come back sometime this morning, and I’ll run into Des Moines and pick him up at the bus station. Maybe he’ll take some of you fishing in one of the bayous. Trixie, I don’t know what you girls will find to do. If you have to do some detective work, you can try and find out where Blackie has hidden her new batch of kittens.”

  Trixie didn’t think that last remark was funny at all. Jim evidently didn’t think so, either.

  “Finding kittens shouldn’t be too hard for Trixie,” he told Mr. Gorman. “You see, the sheriff of Westchester County thinks she has some kind of second sight. She’s been responsible for the capture of some pretty tough criminals.”

  “Now, now, Jim, I find that hard to believe,” Mr. Gorman said.

  “Its true,” Honey said loyally. “I know because I helped her, and Trixie and I are going to have our own detective agency when we finish college. If you’d give her any chance at all, she could tell you who’s been taking Mr. Belden’s sheep.”

  “Is there some kind of crystal ball she looks into?” Mr. Gorman teased. “Go ahead, Trixie, do all the solving you want to do. Would you like to read my palm?”

  “Stop teasing her,” Mrs. Gorman said as she set a plate of steaming hot pancakes on the table. “We can be glad of any help we can get with the sheep. Sheriff Brown doesn’t seem to be getting anyplace. He’s new,” she explained to the Bob-Whites. “Tom Benton used to be the sheriff, and he was a good one.”

  “Joe Brown hasn’t had a chance to show what he can do,” Mr. Gorman said, then changed the subject. “Satan’s Baby and Black Giant could stand a run, Jim, if you and Brian want something to do. Or, if one of you has a driver’s license, I’m sure Ben wouldn’t mind if you were to take his old jalopy and explore the country around here. I’ll get the key for you.”

  “I have a license,” Brian said, “and so has Jim. We’ll be careful.”

  “If you use Ben’s car, don’t remove the boat he has roped on top of it,” Mr. Gorman said. “He keeps it there so he has it handy anytime he wants to go fishing, and he doesn’t want it touched. There’s an artificial lake up the road a way... Waterworks Park. You may want to see it. East of here a few miles, you’ll find the old Army post. It’s an abandoned cavalry garrison. Since you like horses so well, you may find the old stables and the parade ground interesting.”

  “Right now,” Mrs. Gorman interrupted, “maybe you girls would like to go down to the main road after the mail. It’s too nice to stay in.”

  “I’ll go,” Trixie said quickly. “There just might be a letter from Moms. Coming, Honey? Di?”

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p; Blackie the cat ran up to them as they left the house. She rubbed her arched back against Trixie’s legs. “I know,” said Trixie, and she bent over to stroke the cat’s back. “You want to show us your new babies. We’ll look for them when we come back from the mailbox.”

  She straightened up. “And just maybe, later on,” she said to the girls, “we’ll find something much more important than little new kittens! Maybe!”

  As they neared Army Post Road, Diana said, “Somebody seems to be having some trouble over there on the highway near the mailboxes. Do you think it’s the postman?”

  “Hardly, in a truck that size,” Trixie said. “Look!” she cried and stopped halfway down the hill. “That man!”

  “What man?” Honey asked.

  “The one with the black beard,” Trixie said. “You know—I saw him out in the field the first night we were here.”

  “Are you afraid of him?” Diana asked, drawing nearer to Trixie and taking her arm.

  “Of course not!” Trixie said quickly. “His truck seems to be stalled. Honey Wheeler, do you see what he has in his truck?”

  “Sheep,” Diana said. “What about it?”

  “Yes, sheep,” Honey echoed. “Is that the man you said looked like a sheep thief, Trixie?”

  “Yes,” said Trixie in a low voice. “Di, you go on to the box and get the mail, will you please? Honey and I have work to do.”

  “I will not,” Diana said. “I wouldn’t go near that truck. I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, all right,” Trixie answered. “Go on back to the house, then. Honey, you go back, too, and tell the boys. Try to get hold of them before they saddle the horses. I’ll get the mail and then catch up with you.”

  When Trixie ran back down the farmhouse road, Honey and the boys were waiting. “Please take the mail into the house,” she told Diana, and she thrust the package into her hand. “Brian, get Ben’s jalopy. Hurry!” Brian wheeled the car around. Trixie and Honey and Jim and Mart piled into it, and they were off up the road to the highway.