The Black Jacket Mystery Read online

  “Trixie!” Honey was really shocked. “That’s not fair. You don’t know a thing about Dan Mangan, really.”

  But, only a few minutes later, it seemed as if Trixie might very well have guessed what he really was like. The two girls were standing in front of the counter in Mr. Lytell’s store. He had just finished counting out a dozen peppermint sticks. “Anything else, ladies?” he asked, adding the candy to the small pile of purchases on the counter.

  “I don’t think so,” Trixie said uncertainly. “Remember anything, Hon?” She turned to Honey. But Honey’s shocked eyes were fixed on an object on the shelf behind the counter—a wristwatch. Honey’s watch!

  “Mr. Lytell! Where did you get the watch?” Trixie demanded sharply.

  Mr. Lytell picked it up and swung it by the gold band. “This? Some young feller in a black leather jacket sold it to me this morning for ten dollars.”

  “Not Dan Mangan?” Trixie asked, horrified.

  “I don’t know anybody by that name. This was a dark-looking boy, sort of sharp-faced and skinny. Said he was eloping, and this watch belonged to his girl, and they’d run out of money.”

  Strong Evidence • 12

  BUT THAT IS a big story!” Honey protested. “That’s my very own watch that I lost yesterday in the woods! Isn’t it, Trixie?”

  Of course!” Trixie backed her up. “If you’ll look inside, you’ll see some writing. What does it say, Honey?”

  It says For Madeleine with Love, Mum and Daddy. Moms name is Madeleine, like my really true one. Her folks gave her the watch when she graduated from finishing school.”

  Mr. Lytell opened the back of the watch carefully, shoved his glasses up onto his forehead, and studied the writing inside the case. Then he adjusted the glasses, snapped the case shut, and offered the watch to Honey. “It’s yours, all right, Honey, sure as shootin’. There’s no doubt of it.”

  Honey drew back. “It’s yours now, Mr. Lytell. You bought it in good faith.”

  Mr. Lytell shook his gray head emphatically. “Nope. I gave a young feller ten dollars for it, but it isn’t rightfully mine. To tell the truth, I didn’t think it was worth even that much. Thought it was gold-plated. But the boy looked sort of peaked and desperate, and I figured he needed money bad. Guess he was laughing at me all the time, the scalawag.” He sighed. “Take it, and don’t be so careless next time.”

  “But your ten dollars—” Honey stammered. “I haven’t that much right now. You’ll have to wait till Dad and Mom come home from their trip before I can pay you back.”

  “I guess my whiskers won’t grow too long, waitin’.” The storekeeper chuckled. “Something tells me Miss Trask will be coming by here right soon, with a ten-dollar bill in her pretty hand. And don’t forget to tell her I’m planning to brew a good, strong pot of tea and serve genuine, imported English tea biscuits when she comes. Don’t forget that, now.”

  “I won’t, Mr. Lytell.” Honey was fastening the clasp of the watchband as she spoke. “And thanks a lot.”

  “By the way, Trixie, what did you say was the name of that young feller you thought might be

  Mister Black Jacket? Guess I’d better phone Police Chief Moran to look him up if he’s still around. A good talking to wouldn’t be out of line.”

  “But he didn’t actually steal my watch,” Honey said earnestly. “He only found it.”

  “He knew he should have inquired around to find out who’d lost it,” Trixie said sharply. “I guess that’s why he didn’t tell the truth about finding it. He wanted money for it. So he practically stole it.”

  “Looks like that to me, too,” Mr. Lytell growled. “What did you say his name is?”

  “Dan M—” Trixie began.

  Honey interrupted her hastily. “Even if this person could be called a thief, we have no real evidence that he’s Dan, Trixie.”

  “But, Honey”—Trixie frowned—“nobody else around here wears pointed-toe Western boots except Dan Mangan!”

  They hadn’t noticed the door opening, or Bill Regan standing in the doorway listening with a scowl. He came toward them with a quick stride. “What was that about Dan Mangan? What has the boy been up to?”

  Before either of the surprised girls could explain, the storekeeper chuckled. “The young ladies don’t seem to agree on whether he’s done anything or not.”

  “Suppose you tell me about it,” Regan said curtly to them. “Start at the beginning.”

  So ,they did, and Regan s face grew whiter and more severe-looking as Trixie insisted that she was sure the seller of the watch had been Dan.

  “But I don’t think we can be sure,” Honey objected. “Why don’t we just forget the whole thing?”

  Bill Regan shook his head slowly. “I’ll have to talk with him tonight and with Maypenny. I’ll get the truth, and, if it’s as Trixie here believes, Maypenny will have to send him back where he came from.” But he sighed as he spoke, both girls noticed.

  “Maybe he did sell it,” Honey said stubbornly, “but maybe he needed the money badly for something.”

  “The boy has an honest job here, Honey. If he needed money for something important, Maypenny would have advanced it to him, I know.” He looked grim. “I’m afraid Dan’s an experiment that failed.” He turned on his heel and stalked across the floor and out the front door.

  Trixie was wearing an excited look as Honey turned to her. “Now what?” Honey asked a little impatiently.

  “He called Dan an experiment! Remember what Bobby said about a ‘dangerous sperimen’ that Regan and Tom Delanoy were bringing back from the city? They must have meant Dan!”

  “But what would that mean? And why should they call it dangerous?” Honey frowned. “He’s just a kid.”

  “And why would Regan have told Moms that he didn’t want us to know anything about it?” Trixie asked, puzzled. “And he looked awfully worried just now.”

  Mr. Lytell chuckled. “Seems to me the best way to find out what other people’s private conversations are about is to ask them. And if they don’t want to tell, seems to me it’s not polite to try to find out.”

  “You’re right, of course, Mr. Lytell,” Honey admitted. “But we don’t mean any harm. We’re just wondering.”

  “And we’re a little mixed up right now,” Trixie added with a sigh. “So standing around maybe-ing won’t help.”

  They said a hasty good-bye to Mr. Lytell, gathered up the peppermint sticks and other small items, and left for home.

  “Yeeks!When I think of all the housework waiting for me, I practically die!” Trixie moaned as they cantered along Glen Road.

  “We’ll divide it up and get through in nothing flat.” Honey laughed.

  “If I had a houseful of servants like you have, I’d never ruin my lily-white hands doing a single dish! And sewing! I just can’t get over the way you can sew and patch and do all those things. Why, even Aunt Alicia, when she looked at the lining of my B.W.G. coat, thought it had been tailor-made at some fancy shop!”

  “I thank you for the kind letter of recommendation,” Honey said with a laugh. They rode on together till they came to the Wheeler driveway and had a clear view of the clubhouse.

  Jim and Brian were just coming out. “Hey! Where have you two been? We've been waiting for you to come and start painting!” Jim called, shaking his finger at them.

  Honey spoke quickly to Trixie. “Do we have to tell them about my watch right now? They might get angry with Dan if we tell them we suspect him.”

  Trixie hesitated. “All we could tell them honestly is that you lost it, somebody found it, and you got it back. And they’d tease you about being careless.”

  “Thanks, Trix. That’s how I felt. It doesn’t seem fair to drag Dan Mangan’s name into it till we know.”

  “Why the deep conference?” Brian laughed as he and Jim came up to them. “Why so serious?”

  “If you had to make five or six beds before lunch, you’d look serious, too. To say nothing about getting lunch ready
for some half-starved characters like I see before me!” Trixie answered saucily.

  “Sounds like a hint she needs help. Shall we sacrifice ourselves on the household altar?” Jim asked with a twinkle.

  “The offer’s accepted, with thanks!” Trixie giggled. “They’ve promised to unsaddle for us and clean the tack.” She swung out of her saddle. “Let’s give them a chance to be our heroes!”

  “Pure gall!” Jim sighed. “But I’m afraid it’s our only chance of getting fed today. Run along, little ones!” He helped his adopted sister lightly out of her saddle. “And now, scoot, both of you! We’ll expect a feast for the gods in half an hour!”

  “You’ll get ham sandwiches and milk in about an hour, or fix your own lunches!” Trixie retorted.

  “And make plenty while you’re at it!” Jim called after them, while Brian stood by smiling.

  It was a couple of hours later that the girls got back to the little clubhouse to start their painting. They found that Jim had done an excellent job of sketching the Mexican figures and blocking in the words announcing the date of the ice festival. The girls went to work at once, splashing gay colors on the cardboard.

  Early winter darkness was beginning to settle around the small cottage as they finished several posters and laid them aside to dry.

  The boys had gone to the lake with the first load of rough planks that were to become booths for the carnival. Brian was driving his jalopy with Jim beside him, and Mart, well-bundled, perched on top of the lumber.

  “There, that’s the end!” Trixie added a final dab of bright crimson poster paint to the skirt of a dancing señorita. “How’s this? It sort of hits you in the eye with all the reds and greens, doesn’t it?”

  “I think its gorgeous,” Honey said loyally. “Besides, red and green are Mexican colors, and it was clever of you to use so much of them—”

  All at once the wind struck the small window that faced toward the driveway and rattled it as if a fist had banged on it. Both girls jumped and stared, frightened, at the window. Then the wind rattled it again, and they saw there was no one glaring in at them. Only darkness.

  “Sounds like the start of another storm,” Trixie exclaimed. She hurried to the window and peered out. “It’s beginning to snow. Guess we’d better start for home now.” She pressed closer to the pane and shielded her eyes from the lamplight. “Somebody’s riding up. It’s Regan!”

  “I suppose he jumped all over poor Dan,” Honey said unhappily. “I wish I hadn’t told Mr. Lytell it was my watch.”

  “But you had to, Honey,” Trixie reminded her soberly. “It’s too bad about Dan Mangan, especially if he’s Mr. Maypenny’s grandson, but I guess Regan and your dad have a right to want people they can trust around the place.”

  She went to the door to open it for Regan. The snow was driving hard as the tall red-haired groom came up. His head and shoulders were whitened by it as if someone had sprinkled powdered sugar over them. Trixie couldn’t help noticing it, and she was about to mention it, when she saw his expression.

  She changed her mind and instead said hastily, “Come in. We saw you ride up.”

  “No time to visit. I’ve been longer than I expected,” Regan said brusquely. “I thought maybe I’d find some of you kids here. I wanted to tell you that you won t have any more trouble with Dan Mangan. Mr. Maypenny will be sending him away before the end of the week. That’s all.”

  He turned abruptly and started back to his horse. Trixie ran after him impulsively, ignoring the snow that fell on her bare head. She called, “Please wait a minute.” And when Regan, stony-faced, waited to hear what was on her mind, she asked quickly, “Did Dan tell you he was the one who found Honey’s watch and sold it?”

  Even in the semidarkness, his face looked stern. “No, Trixie. He hadn’t the grace to admit it. But I looked at those boot marks on the ground where she lost the watch, and he might as well have signed his name.”

  “Honey still thinks it might have been somebody else,” Trixie suggested. “Other boys wear boots like that.”

  But Regan shook his head. “In the city, maybe. Not out here.” He turned toward Jupiter, and Trixie heard him say, half under his breath, “I guess we were foolish to expect anything else.”

  Trixie went back into the little clubhouse, shaking off the snowflakes. She was shivering with cold.

  “I guess there’s no doubt about Dan.” Honey sighed. “But, somehow, I feel terribly disappointed. Poor Mr. Maypenny! How he must hate to send Dan away!”

  “How Dan must hate to be sent away! He’s been having a ball, swaggering around the other kids at school, telling them what a big shot he was in the city. I bet he’ll be simply furious at us! There’s no telling what he might do for revenge!” Trixie’s imagination was making her shiver even more than the wet snowflakes were.

  Honey laughed. “Now you’re taking his wild stories seriously! I still think he isn’t half as dangerous as he pretends to be! He just made up those yams.”

  But when they and the boys stopped by the clubhouse the next morning to pick up the finished posters and take them to Sleepyside on the bus, they changed their minds about Dan’s boasting and bragging about being tough. Perhaps he had been telling the truth, after all!

  A Thief in the Sight • 13

  ITHAD STOPPED snowing sometime in the night, and there were only a few inches of snow carpeting the ground around the small clubhouse when they came up outside.

  “I’ll dash in and get the posters,” Mart offered and cut across the smooth expanse of snow toward the front door.

  The others waited for him to reappear, Brian glancing with a frown at his watch while they stood around. “Mart! What in the world is keeping you?” he called out.

  Trixie giggled. “Another black bear?” She grinned at Jim.

  “No bear of mine this time.” Jim laughed. But he stopped laughing abruptly as Mart appeared in the doorway and called out in an oddly strained voice, “Hey, come in here!”

  “We re late now. We’ll miss die bus!” Brian yelled back. “Come on, and cut the clowning.”

  “Better take a look,” Mart answered seriously. “We’ve had a visitor.”

  They exchanged worried glances as they hurried to see what he meant. And when they looked around inside the usually neat little cottage, they were dismayed at the wreckage someone had left.

  “Looks like one of us left the front door unlocked last night,” Jim said with a frown.

  “Not us!” Trixie defended herself and Honey at once. “We put the catch on the lock, and I closed the door tight after us. Then Honey tried the knob, and it was locked. We always do it that way, so that we share the responsibility.”

  “Somebody goofed this time,” Mart said grimly. “Wow! Posters spread around on the floor, paint pots tipped over, curtains torn. Looks as if our visitor had a grudge against us!”

  A light gust of wind blew in the curtain at the window through which Trixie had watched Regan ride up the night before. Trixie glanced at it, feeling the draft. “Hey, the window’s broken. That’s how they got in, whoever they were!”

  Brian hurried over and found one pane broken. “You’re right, Trixie. This pane has been smashed so they could reach in and unlock the window. And the snow’s been wiped off the sill, probably by somebody’s hand. I wish one of us knew something about taking fingerprints.”

  Trixie said, “Oh!” suddenly and darted behind the partition. They heard her rummaging around back there as if she were looking for something. Then she exclaimed, “I knew it!” and a moment later came rushing out with the small tin box that they called the Temper Box. Whenever one of them lost his or her temper, that one had to put a dime in the box as a penalty. There had been three dollars and forty cents in the box. It was empty now.

  “Of all the nasty, cheap, miserable tricks!It isn’t the money that makes me mad,” she stormed, “but he had to break the lock and twist the cover so we can’t use the box again. I’d like to break what’s left of
it on his head!”

  “Ah, ah!” Mart said, lifting an admonishing finger at his sister. “Temper? Most of those dimes were yours, ma petite! Do we start a new collection right now?”

  Trixie tossed her head and scowled at him, but she put the box down on the table. “I’m perfectly calm.” Then she started to boil over again. “But whoever it was is a—a—”

  “I agree with Trixie completely,” Brian said. “Personally, I think some tramp saw this spot and decided to spend a night under a good stout roof instead of under some railroad bridge in a hobo jungle. He made himself at home.”

  “Like a pig in a wallow!” Jim said grimly. He picked up one of the cardboard posters and shook his head over it. “He walked all over this one with wet boots.”

  “Boots?” Honey said quickly before she had had time to think. She and Trixie exchanged a look, and both hurried to look at the card.

  Clear as it could be, the imprint was of a pointedtoed and narrow-heeled boot.

  “That looks familiar,” Jim told them with a frown. “Whoever it was that broke in wears those corny cowboy boots like Dan Mangan’s.”

  “Like them?” Trixie exploded. “I bet it was Dan, getting even with Honey and me!”

  The three boys looked astonished. Jim spoke quickly. “Suppose you explain just why Dan Mangan would ‘get even with you. What have you been doing to him?” He was stern.

  “We haven’t done anything,” Trixie defended herself and Honey. “He’s the one that did it!”

  “Suppose you start at the beginning and tell us what this is all about,” Brian said seriously. “We’ll probably miss the bus, but this is more important right now.”

  “Yeah,” Mart agreed. “I want to find out if I should punch Dan Mangan in the nose when I see him in class today, or if this is just a pipe dream.”

  So Trixie and Honey explained about the lost watch and Mr. Lytells purchase of it. Honey added, at the end, a little defiantly, “Of course, were not sure it was Dan who found it, but Regan seems to think so, too.”

  “So you dragged him into your mystery, tool” Mart shook his head.