The Happy Valley Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page B

said. “Jimmy, Trixie, you’d think twenty years ago was the Dark Ages. They had pretty slick songs then. Dick Drake and his gang sing some of them now.”
    “And I think they’re cute,” Honey said. “Come on, let’s have our dinner now. Di actually made some com bread!”
    “It was a mix,” Diana said modestly. “For the rest of the dinner, Mrs. Gorman had a thick slice of ham ready to go into the oven. She puts mustard and pineapple juice and—”
    “The more glop you put on ham, the better I like it,” Mart said. “What’s keeping us?”
    “Washing your hands, for one thing,” Trixie said. “Mart, hurry up, ’cause there’s apple pie for dessert.” While they were eating, Tip and Tag didn’t seem able
    to settle down, though they had eaten their food eagerly when Trixie gave it to them. They ran in and out of the dining room, back and forth to the back door, whining restlessly.
    “What do you think is wrong with the dogs?” Trixie asked. “If it weren’t storming so hard, I’d think we should let them out to run.”
    “It’s the wind that bothers them,” Mart said. “Dogs don’t like wind.”
    “I don’t like it, either,” Trixie said. “I’m glad the sheep are all safe and that we could do at least that much to help the Gormans.”
    “They’re surely wonderful to us,” Honey said. “I’m glad, too, that you could help.”
     
    When Mr. and Mrs. Gorman returned, the Bob-Whites didn’t hear them at first. The record player was going full blast, and Diana and Mart were trying to do the Charleston the way they’d seen it done on television.
    As a lull came in the music, they heard Mrs. Gorman’s footsteps overhead, so they all crowded up the stairs. “Did you have a good time?” Honey asked.
    “Is the storm still bad?” Trixie asked. “Why, Mrs. Gorman, what is the matter? Where is Mr. Gorman?”
    “Out in the snow, that’s where he is,” Mrs. Gorman said, near tears. “Oh, why couldn’t you have been depended upon to do a little thing like putting the sheep under shelter? Why did you tell him it had been done when it hadn’t? How could you?”
    “But it was done,” Trixie said. “We did do it. We really did. All Mr. Gorman has to do is to go out there and look, and he’ll find the sheep safe and sound in the shelter field. We put them there, Mrs. Gorman. I helped the boys pull the gate shut after them—”
    “And lock it?” Mrs. Gorman asked. “Did you drop the wooden bar down to lock it?”
    Trixie’s face fell. Jim’s, too. And Brian’s. There was a moment of silence.
    “Oh-oh,” Mart groaned.
    “No, Mrs. Gorman,” Trixie said sadly, “we didn’t. I guess we didn’t know. The dogs knew, though. They have been sort of frantic... running to the door, then back to us. No, we didn’t lock the gate. Are the sheep all gone, every one of them?”
    “Every one,” Mrs. Gorman said and sank into a chair. “Heaven knows where they are. They’ll be frozen or smothered, and Hank’ll lose half the herd and his job, too, what with all the stolen sheep. Where are you going?” she called.
    “Out to help,” said the Bob-Whites. They struggled into their coats, pulled on galoshes, and were gone out the door, Trixie ahead of them with a big flashlight. “We’ve been in worse mix-ups than this,” she said to the others. “And we’ve gotten out of them. This’ll turn out all right, too. See if it doesn’t.”
     

The Trapped Sheep • 4
     
    THE FLOODLIGHTS in the farmyard were turned on, but only a faint blob of light showed, so dense was the falling snow. Betsy’s small calf, startled by all the noise, bawled mournfully. Everywhere else there was silence... not a tinkle of a sheep s bell, not a sound of Tip’s or Tag’s barking. The Bob-Whites had no idea where Mr. Gorman was.
    “It’s a good thing we rode around the farm today,” Jim said. “At least we know something of the layout, but I still don’t know which direction we should take