The Camp-out Mystery by Gertrude Chandler Warner

been going on—”

    â€œLoud music and lights and missing food,” Benny put in.
    â€œWe thought you might have seen or heard something that would help us figure it out,” Jessie said.
    Hildy glared at them. “Imagination pure and simple,” she said. “As if it isn’t bad enough that my lantern is broken—”
    â€œAt least you have a lantern,” Benny interrupted. “Someone took ours.”
    Hildy grabbed the lantern off the table. “Stop pestering me with your silliness,” she snapped. She marched to her cabin door. “Go back to the city where you belong! I don’t want you here!” She slammed the door behind her.
    â€œYou see?” Benny said. “She doesn’t want us here.”
    â€œMr. Watts said we should go home, too,” Jessie reminded him.
    â€œThat’s different,” Benny argued. “He was thinking about Grandfather.”
    â€œWe should be, too,” Violet said. “We’ve been away a long time. He might need us.”
    Grandfather was reading when they returned to camp. “Something happened while you were away,” he said.
    The children looked at each other. What now? they wondered. They looked all around, but they didn’t see anything different.
    Grandfather laughed and pointed to the maple tree.
    Violet caught her breath. “It bloomed!” she exclaimed.
    Earlier, the tree was full of buds. Now, it was full of small tight clusters of green flowers. Other trees seemed to be blooming, too.
    â€œSpring has sprung!” Benny commented.
    The night was beautiful, too. The sky was clear and the stars were bright.
    After supper, Violet got out her violin. She played several pieces. The one everyone liked best was “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
    Finally, everyone went to bed. They were so tired that they fell asleep quickly. No one heard the loud music that sounded through the still night or saw the lights that cut through the surrounding darkness.

CHAPTER 13
    More Trouble
    â€œY oohoo!” someone called.
    â€œIs it morning already?” Benny asked.
    Henry crawled out of his sleeping bag and looked out the tent window. “It’s Doris,” he told the others.
    The children piled out of the tent.
    â€œWell, good morning,” Doris said. She set a box down on the picnic table.
    â€œGood morning,” the children greeted her.
    Grandfather came out of the tent leaning on Andy Watts’s walking stick.
    â€œJames Henry Alden,” Doris said. “Just what do you think you’re doing? You should be resting.”
    Settled on a picnic bench, Mr. Alden laughed. “Coming to visit an old friend,” he answered. “That’s what I’m doing. And what are you doing? Hiking all this way when you have a store to run?”
    Doris sat across from him. “Andy stopped in late yesterday. He told me about your fall. I thought you might need a few things.” She turned to Henry. “There’s a bag of ice in there. You’d better put it in the cooler before it melts.”
    Henry nodded and took out the ice.
    Jessie glanced into the box. “You brought pancake mix!” she exclaimed.
    â€œI figured you’d probably used yours up by now,” Doris said.
    â€œSomebody took our box,” Benny said. “We haven’t had a single pancake.”
    â€œSomeone took your pancake mix?” she said, but she didn’t sound too surprised.
    â€œThat’s not all!” Benny told her what had been happening.
    â€œHmmm,” was all she said.
    â€œWe asked your sister about it,” Jessie said, “but she just told us to go home.”
    Doris nodded and glanced away. “Yes, that’s what I was afraid of,” she said more to herself than to the children. When she saw them all looking at her, she said, “What I mean is, other campers have complained about these very same