The Marshland Mystery by Julie Campbell Page B

Lady and climbed into the saddle without looking back toward the house. She rode at a walk at first, but as soon as she had gone around the first turn, she slapped Lady smartly on the flank and urged her into a brisk canter.
    “I guess I’d better go right on up to the house and tell Miss Crandall what I’ve found out. I mean, what I think I’ve found out.” She didn’t know what Miss Crandall would want to do. Maybe she’d want to go right out there and find out if Gaye really was in the cottage, or she might prefer to call the police and let them go. But it seemed to Trixie, just then, that Miss Crandall was the person she should talk to first.
    She was over halfway home when she remembered that she had solemnly promised Regan that she wouldn’t run Lady. She hated to slow down now, but she had to. If Regan suspected that she had disobeyed orders, she’d be grounded for a week. So she slowed the mare to a trot the rest of the way.
    It seemed ages before she reached the foot of the Manor House driveway. She saw that there were still a couple of cars in front of the big house. One of them looked like the small car that Paul Trent was using. He was probably hanging around with his tongue out for the news in case anyone found Gaye. Trixie wished that she had been able to bring Gaye home with her from the marsh cottage. That would have shown Mr. Trent that the Bob-Whites did know a few answers.
    She was passing the little clubhouse when she noticed that the door was standing ajar. She wondered who could be in there. If that Trent character was snooping around inside, she made up her mind, she’d tell him off, but good, especially after his mean crack about the club members.
    But when she pushed the door open all the way, the person she saw was Jim Frayne. He was surrounded by books and papers and was concentrating so hard on studying that he didn’t know she was there.
    Trixie felt guilty at interrupting him, and she started moving backward quietly, pulling the door closed after her. Unfortunately for her good intentions, she caught one heel against a bit of uneven planking and tripped, falling flat on her back with a dull thud.
    Red-faced, she scrambled to her feet at once and saw Jim standing in the doorway, looking surprised.
    “Now what are you up to?” he demanded with a grin. “That’s no way for a lady to come calling on a gent.”
    “I wasn’t coming; I was g-going,” Trixie told him indignantly, her face getting redder. “I was b-backing away so I wouldn’t interrupt your studying.”
    “Where have you been?” Jim took a keen look at the waiting mare. “Lady looks beat. You haven’t been running her, I hope. Regan will skin you alive.”
    “Does she look that bad? I slowed her down a long way back.” Trixie’s blue eyes were troubled.
    Jim studied her a moment. “What were you running from, Trix?” he asked soberly. “Did somebody bother you? ”
    “Oh, no! Nothing like that,” she assured Jim hastily. And then she suddenly made up her mind to tell him about the house by the marsh. “It was just that I was in a hurry to get here. I’ve been to Martin’s Marsh, and I think I’ve found out where Gaye is!”
    “Gaye? Oh, great!” Jim’s whole face lit up. “Where?”
    “Out there, in a cottage near the marsh. Or I’m pretty
    sure she is!” Trixie told him eagerly. “I was on my way to tell Miss Crandall.”
    “Wait a minute,” Jim said gravely. “You say you’re pretty sure. You’re not just guessing?”
    “Well, partly guessing. But I found Bobby’s bike there, in a ditch, and I’m almost certain Gaye rode it there. And I found this on the brick walk.” She handed him the rhinestone with the painted back. “I think it fell out of her dog’s collar.”
    Jim studied the rhinestone, without speaking.
    “Don’t you see? Gaye must be there! There’s a scary old woman living in the cottage who says she never saw Gaye, but I don’t believe her. And I’m sure I heard Mr.