they were riding along, watching the roadside, that they were looking for something."
"Oh, all right," Jeff gave in. "But it beats me how you’re going to get to that barn without being seen by the farmer who owns it. That van’s not exactly small, in case you haven’t noticed."
"I keep telling you," the other man whispered impatiently. "Through the back fields. There’s an old road leading from the orchard to the barn."
"And fine shape it’ll be in after this rain," Jeff argued. "We’re sure to get stuck in the mud tonight; but have it your own way. I’ll play along, but it sure gets my goat that a couple of clumsy girls can make us change our plans."
The two men moved away from the wall, and in a few seconds Trixie saw the silhouette of a bushy-haired man move furtively past the library window. She hurried to the veranda, straining her eyes to get a better glimpse of him. He turned, as though he might have heard her tiptoeing after him, and she crouched down hastily behind a bench. Peeking through the slats in the back of the bench, Trixie held her breath as the man took a few steps in her direction. Then, jamming a battered hat down over his thick, unruly hair, he wheeled and vaulted over the porch railing to disappear in the shadows of the bushes.
It was dark on the veranda—due to the rain the outside lights had not been turned on—but Trixie had seen enough of the man’s face to feel sure that he was not Joeanne’s father. Hastily she returned to the library and woke Honey to tell her what had happened.
"I can’t be absolutely sure, of course," she finished, "but he didn’t have that sort of vacant look that the red-trailer man had. He didn’t look beaten at all; he had sharp features and narrow eyes, and with all that bushy hair he made me think of a fox."
"Well, Joeanne’s father doesn’t look anything like a fox," Honey said. "The last time I saw him he reminded me of a great big, sad-eyed dog that didn’t have any home. Even if he did go off and leave Joeanne, I feel sorry for him."
"Honey!" Trixie gasped. "You’ve hit the nail on the head. That’s just what’s wrong with that family— why they look so vacant, as though they had given up hope. They haven’t any home."
"They’ve got the red trailer," Honey began and then stopped. "Oh, I see what you mean. They must have stolen the trailer because they haven’t any other place to live."
"That’s it," Trixie cried. "If you had all those children and no home for them and you saw a trailer all hitched up and ready to go, wouldn’t you be tempted?"
Honey nodded her head up and down sympathetically. "The man who owns the Robin shouldn’t have gone off and left his keys in the tow car. It serves him right, and I’m glad we didn’t tell the state trooper anything."
"We didn’t have anything to tell him," Trixie pointed out, "except that we saw a red trailer at the picnic grounds, and Miss Trask told him that." Honey sighed. "I hope we never run across that poor family again. If we should see the Robin while we re looking for Jim, we should notify the police, shouldn’t we? I mean, if the father is a thief, it wouldn’t be right to withhold information that would lead to his arrest."
"Well, anyway," Trixie said, "he’s not the same thief who’s been stealing trailer equipment. If you ask me, Jeff and his bushy-haired friend have something to do with those robberies."
"It certainly looks like it," Honey said thoughtfully. "A hidden van and all that talk you just heard about an abandoned barn! Shouldn’t we tell the troopers what we suspect?"
"It wouldn’t do any good," Trixie told her. "I gather they’re not going to hide the van in the woods anymore. And we haven’t the vaguest idea where the abandoned barn is. We’ve got to get some proof before we can report anything to the police. If I told them I suspected Jeff, they’d think I was trying to get him into trouble because he bumped into me with a tray of dishes."
"Oh,
"Oh, all right," Jeff gave in. "But it beats me how you’re going to get to that barn without being seen by the farmer who owns it. That van’s not exactly small, in case you haven’t noticed."
"I keep telling you," the other man whispered impatiently. "Through the back fields. There’s an old road leading from the orchard to the barn."
"And fine shape it’ll be in after this rain," Jeff argued. "We’re sure to get stuck in the mud tonight; but have it your own way. I’ll play along, but it sure gets my goat that a couple of clumsy girls can make us change our plans."
The two men moved away from the wall, and in a few seconds Trixie saw the silhouette of a bushy-haired man move furtively past the library window. She hurried to the veranda, straining her eyes to get a better glimpse of him. He turned, as though he might have heard her tiptoeing after him, and she crouched down hastily behind a bench. Peeking through the slats in the back of the bench, Trixie held her breath as the man took a few steps in her direction. Then, jamming a battered hat down over his thick, unruly hair, he wheeled and vaulted over the porch railing to disappear in the shadows of the bushes.
It was dark on the veranda—due to the rain the outside lights had not been turned on—but Trixie had seen enough of the man’s face to feel sure that he was not Joeanne’s father. Hastily she returned to the library and woke Honey to tell her what had happened.
"I can’t be absolutely sure, of course," she finished, "but he didn’t have that sort of vacant look that the red-trailer man had. He didn’t look beaten at all; he had sharp features and narrow eyes, and with all that bushy hair he made me think of a fox."
"Well, Joeanne’s father doesn’t look anything like a fox," Honey said. "The last time I saw him he reminded me of a great big, sad-eyed dog that didn’t have any home. Even if he did go off and leave Joeanne, I feel sorry for him."
"Honey!" Trixie gasped. "You’ve hit the nail on the head. That’s just what’s wrong with that family— why they look so vacant, as though they had given up hope. They haven’t any home."
"They’ve got the red trailer," Honey began and then stopped. "Oh, I see what you mean. They must have stolen the trailer because they haven’t any other place to live."
"That’s it," Trixie cried. "If you had all those children and no home for them and you saw a trailer all hitched up and ready to go, wouldn’t you be tempted?"
Honey nodded her head up and down sympathetically. "The man who owns the Robin shouldn’t have gone off and left his keys in the tow car. It serves him right, and I’m glad we didn’t tell the state trooper anything."
"We didn’t have anything to tell him," Trixie pointed out, "except that we saw a red trailer at the picnic grounds, and Miss Trask told him that." Honey sighed. "I hope we never run across that poor family again. If we should see the Robin while we re looking for Jim, we should notify the police, shouldn’t we? I mean, if the father is a thief, it wouldn’t be right to withhold information that would lead to his arrest."
"Well, anyway," Trixie said, "he’s not the same thief who’s been stealing trailer equipment. If you ask me, Jeff and his bushy-haired friend have something to do with those robberies."
"It certainly looks like it," Honey said thoughtfully. "A hidden van and all that talk you just heard about an abandoned barn! Shouldn’t we tell the troopers what we suspect?"
"It wouldn’t do any good," Trixie told her. "I gather they’re not going to hide the van in the woods anymore. And we haven’t the vaguest idea where the abandoned barn is. We’ve got to get some proof before we can report anything to the police. If I told them I suspected Jeff, they’d think I was trying to get him into trouble because he bumped into me with a tray of dishes."
"Oh,
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