The Secret of the Mansion Read online

  "How do you know all that?" Trixie demanded impatiently. "You can't see it that clearly from here."

  "I was there early this morning," Honey explained. "Daddy and I were out riding, and we went up that old driveway thinking it was a road to the woods. We didn't realize that it led to the Mansion until we were halfway up. Then, of course, we knew we were trespassing, so we turned around. It looked like a deserted house to me, and I was glad to get away from there. Nobody would want to live in such a horrible, run-down place."

  Trixie bent down and fumbled with her shoelace to

  hide the disappointment on her face. She's worse than I thought she was at first, she thought. A silly old fraidy cat. Aloud she said coldly, "Of course, a lot of people think old Mr. Frayne went crazy after his wife died, and he lost all his money. That's why the place is run-down. Anyway, I'm going to look around there while Mr. Frayne's in the hospital. You don't have to if you don't want to."

  "Are you sure he's in the hospital?" Honey asked, suddenly,

  Trixie straightened up. "Of course. Dad took him in early this morning. He's not expected to live."

  "That's funny," Honey said slowly. "We were there about an hour ago. As we rode down the hill, I got the creepy feeling you get when you know somebody you can't see is watching you. I looked back over my shoulder quickly, and I saw a face at one of the windows." She shivered slightly. "I'll bet that house is haunted!"

  Through the Hedge

  Trixie hooted with laughter. "You're just imagining things," she said. "I never heard of anything so silly."

  Honey bit her lip. "Naturally, I don't really believe in ghosts," she said in a hurt voice, "but I did see a face at the window."

  "Oh, skip it," Trixie said impatiently. "If you're really scared, I'll explore up there myself some other time. Right now, I can hardly wait to get on a horse." She gave Honey a little push. "Go on and change into dungarees."

  Honey stared at her. "I haven't any dungarees," she said slowly. "I always wear a habit and boots when I ride."

  ,, What difference does it make what you wear?" Trixie interrupted. She wheeled around to where Bobby was rolling in the grass with the puppy. "Go on home now," she wheedled. "If you're a good boy this morning, I'll play with you all afternoon. It's a promise."

  Bobby giggled as the puppy licked his face. "Don't want to go home. Want to stay here and play with the puppy. Hey, what's his name, anyway?" he asked Honey.

  "Bud." Honey smiled. "Bobby doesn't have to go home, Trixie," she said quietly. "He can stay here with my governess. Miss Trask won't mind keeping an eye on him. She's really very nice, you know. She's not like the other ones who were perfectly horrible. Oh, here she comes now."

  Around the bend in the driveway appeared a trim, middle-aged woman with very short, crisp, gray hair. She was wearing a tailored slack suit and sturdy looking brown and white oxfords. She had bright blue eyes which twinkled merrily as she caught sight of Bobby frolicking with the puppy.

  "What have we here?" she asked with a friendly smile. "So you've found some playmates already, Honey?"

  "Oh, yes," Honey cried. "This is Trixie Belden and her brother, Bobby. They live in that darling little farmhouse down in the hollow. We were just about to go riding."

  Trixie, slightly awed in the presence of such an unknown creature as a governess, mumbled, "How do you do?"

  Bobby scrambled to his feet. "Hey," he shouted, tossing his silky curls in Honey's direction. "She said you'd keep an eye on me while they 'splore. Trixie's supposed to, you know, instead of weeding, but I won't tell if you play games with me."

  Trixie felt like shaking the little boy, but Miss Trask held out her hand to him, laughing. "Of course, I'll play games with you. Run along, Honey, and have a nice ride through the woods with your new friend." She glanced approvingly at Trixie's dungarees. "It's a pity you have to bother to change, Honey," she said. "Now that we're in the country, you really ought to dress the way Trixie does. I'll speak to your mother right away about getting you some blue jeans and loafers."

  Honey threw her arms impulsively around her governess. "Oh, Miss Trask, will you? You're such an angel. And will you also ask her if I can have a bike, too? Trixie's going to teach me how to ride one. I've wanted a bike ever since I can remember." She ran off toward the

  house, her pale face flushed with pleasure.

  Trixie stared after her, thinking, she's Just like a poor little rich girl in a storybook. Imagine having to ask your governess to ask your mother for something! It's no wonder she acts so queer, sometimes.

  Miss Trask turned to Trixie as Honey went into the house to change. As though reading Trixie's mind, Miss Trask said quietly, "It's truly shameful the way that child has been brought up. I mean to see to it that a lot of changes are made. She has just recovered from a long illness and is still rather nervous. I'd like her to get as tanned and strong as you are. Will you help me, Trixie?"

  Trixie looked down at the toe of her shoe, embarrassed. "Why, sure," she said huskily. "I don't know exactly what you mean, Miss Trask, but I'll help. Of course I will."

  "Good." Miss Trask swung Bobby's hand as they strolled up the sloping driveway and back to the newly white-washed stable where tall stalks of pink and red hollyhocks grew in profusion. A broad-shouldered, pleasant-faced man was grooming a big black horse, and Miss Trask called out to him.

  "Good morning, Regan. This is Miss Trixie Belden. Will you saddle a couple of horses, so she and Honey can explore the woods?" She smiled at Trixie. "Have fun. Don't worry about Bobby. I'll let him play in the wading pool until you come back."

  "Thanks," Trixie said, staring entranced at the big gleaming horse. She sucked in a deep breath of the air that was fragrant with the smell of clean horses and hay and saddle soap. She moved closer and patted the gelding's satiny neck. "Oh, you beautiful, beautiful thing," she crooned as Jupiter nuzzled her pocket, hinting for a lump of sugar. "I haven't anything for you today, darling, but tomorrow I'll bring you apples and carrots. just you wait and see."

  "You speak a horse's language, Miss," Regan said approvingly. "Jupe understood every word you said. He likes you and he doesn't like everybody."

  "I love him," Trixie cried. "Please, Mr. Regan, could I ride him today?"

  "Well, now," Regan said slowly, "that depends. He's not easy to handle, Jupiter isn't. Mr. Wheeler rides him mostly, and he's got a very heavy touch. Honey now, she can't hold Jupiter in. Just hasn't enough strength in her wrists. But you look like a husky youngster. Done much riding?"

  Reluctantly, Trixie shook her head. "I've never even been on a horse," she admitted ruefully. "But I know I can ride him, Mr. Regan. I know I can."

  Regan guffawed loudly. "Never even been on a horse! Why, Miss, you wouldn't have a chance in the world with Jupe. He'd know right off that you were a beginner, and would he take you for a ride!" He slapped Jupiter's neck affectionately. "He wouldn't stop until you hit the New York traffic; that is, if you stayed on that long."

  Trixie swallowed hard to keep from showing her disappointment. "But when I learn to ride, you'll let me try him, won't you, Mr. Regan?" she begged meekly. "Please!"

  "That I will," Regan promised. "But, right now, I think you'd better start with Lady. She's real gentle and easy to handle. Mrs. Wheeler's mare, she is. Come on, you can help me saddle her."

  Trixie followed him inside the stable, and a lovely dapple-gray mare whinnied from her stall. "That's the sweet girl," Regan crooned as he slipped a halter over Lady's head and led her out. "Here, Miss," he said to Trixie, "You hold her a minute," and he disappeared into the tack room.

  The horsy smell of leather and soap and hay was stronger in here, and Trixie inhaled a deep breath of it as she waited for Regan. "You're a darling girl," she whispered to the dainty little mare, "and I wish you belonged to me."' When Regan came back, she said, "Please don't call me Miss, Mr. Regan. My name's Trixie."

  Regan deftly slid the halter over Lady's head and slipped a snaffle bit into her mout
h. "Okay, Trixie," he said as he showed her how to gather up the reins. "Just call me Regan." He gently placed a saddle on Lady's back and bent over to buckle the girth in place. "I'll have to tighten the cinch a bit after you get on," he told Trixie.

  "Lady has the habit of blowing herself up while she's being saddled." He grinned. "It's a smart trick, and you have to watch out for it with a lot of horses. Wouldn't want the saddle to slip off, would you?"

  Trixie solemnly shook her head. Regan led Lady out into the yard and pulled down the stirrups. Measuring the length of Trixie's leg with his eye, he adjusted the leather straps accordingly. He held one stirrup iron for her. "Up you go," he ordered.

  Trixie promptly discovered that mounting a horse was not as easy as she had thought it would be; but after two unsuccessful tries she found herself, breathless and excited, in the saddle. She was on a horse at last!

  "Heels down!" Regan commanded. "And keep 'em down, with the irons under the balls of your feet." He led Lady into a partially fenced-in field. "If you don't keep your heels down, you'll never learn how to post a trot or keep your seat in a gallop. What's more, if you get thrown and the horse runs away, you're not likely to have your foot caught in a stirrup if your heels are down instead of your toes. Getting dragged isn't fun," he finished soberly. "Just remember that!"

  "I will," Trixie promised, so thrilled that her whole body trembled. "May I gallop her now, Regan, may P" "Indeed you don't," Regan said briskly. "You start 23 with a walk. Just lift the reins a little, and she'll move right out."

  Honey appeared, then, in an immaculate white riding habit and russet boots so shiny you could see your face in them. "Come here, Honey," Regan said. "Lead your friend around the corral a couple of times while I saddle Strawberry. Trixie'd better get the feel of the saddle a bit before she gets too frisky."

  Trixie tried to control her impatience as they walked around the field, and Honey asked, "Are you really going up to that old mansion?"

  "Sure," Trixie said. "Why don't we ride through the woods right now? You don't have to go way up to the house if you don't want to."

  Honey thought about this for a minute, and then she said, "All right. I guess I was mistaken about that face. I do imagine things, you know, such weird things."

  "Everybody does," Trixie said good-naturedly. "When I was a kid, whenever there was a thunderstorm, I thought I saw the headless horseman galloping across the sky in the flashes of lightning."

  Honey stopped and looked up at her curiously. "Headless horseman?" she repeated, in a surprised voice. "How awful!"

  Trixie grinned. "Sure, this is the part of the Hudson River Valley that Washington Irving wrote about in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. The village got its name, Sleepyside, from that old story, you know."

  "Oh." Honey looked relieved, but she added seriously, "I hope I don't dream about a headless horseman. I have awful nightmares, sometimes. I wake up screaming."

  "Do I have to keep on walking Lady, forever?" Trixie interrupted impatiently.

  "I guess you could try trotting, now," Honey said. "Gather up the reins a little and touch Lady's flank lightly with one heel."

  Lady obediently set off at a smooth trot, but Trixie bounced and Jounced in the saddle until she thought her head would jar off. That would make the legend come true. Id be a headless horseman, she thought grimly. She could not keep her feet in the stirrups, and the swinging irons hit Lady's sides sharply. Thinking Trixie wanted her to go faster, Lady broke into a canter. Before Trixie knew what had happened, she was lying in the middle of the field, staring forlornly up at the bright blue sky. She wasn't the least bit hurt, but she winced inwardly. Now's Honey's chance to get back at me for making fun of her when she thought she saw a face at the Mansion, she reflected bitterly.

  She scrambled to her feet and was surprised to see that Honey, who was calmly holding Lady's head, was not laughing. "Everybody does that the first time, Trixie," she said. 'Anyway, I'm glad you're not hurt."

  Trixie meekly climbed back into the saddle. "I was an awful dope," she said. "I didn't keep my heels down. I'll do better next time."

  Regan came into the corral then, leading a magnificent strawberry roan called Strawberry. Regan left Honey to mount without his help; and Trixie noticed, with envy, that although Strawberry tossed his head and pranced, Honey seemed to have no difficulty and adjusted her own stirrups from her seat in the saddle.

  "Regan," Trixie breathed admiringly, "do you think I'll ever get that good?"

  "Sure." Regan stared at the grass stains on Trixie's shirt and then said with a little note of amusement and understanding in his voice, "Had your first spill already, huh?"

  Trixie nodded shamefacedly.

  "Well, now, you know what I think?" Regan demanded. "I think you ought to take it easy this first day. Mrs. Wheeler rode Lady this morning before breakfast, so the mare doesn't need any more exercise. Why don't you just keep her at a walk until you sort of get used to things?" He added quickly as Trixie's face showed her disappointment, "I'll give you a lesson in posting tomorrow. You'll catch on quick, don't worry. People who really love horses are just natural-born riders."

  "I think Regan's right," Honey said. "If you do too much today, Trixie, you'll be so stiff tomorrow you won't even be able to climb into a saddle, much less ride."

  ,, But I'll spoil your fun," Trixie objected. "You'll want to trot and canter and I won't be able to keep up." Honey smiled. "It's awfully hot, anyway, and

  Strawberry will work himself into a lather if I let him out of a walk. I can exercise him this evening when it's cooler."

  Golly, Trixie thought, she is a good sport. She just said that to make it easier for me. Aloud, she said with a grin, "Okay, Honey, you're the boss at this ranch."

  They walked their horses along the path that circled the willow-bordered lake, and Trixie saw a new rowboat tied alongside the rustic boathouse. "Oh, boy!" she shouted. "Now we can fish in the middle of the lake.

  You're a lucky duck to live up here, Honey!"

  "I don't know how to fish," Honey said quickly. "And I wouldn't touch a horrible squirming worm for anything!" The word "Sissy!" was on the tip of Trixie's tongue, but she caught herself just in time. "I'll put the worms on the hook," she said. "We can have a lot of fun. Brian and Mart and I have caught a lot of fish off the boathouse. You see," she explained, "the Manor House has been empty for so many years we got so we thought of the lake as belonging to our property."

  "I want you to keep right on thinking that, Trixie," Honey cried impulsively. "You and your brothers must come here as often as you like."

  "Great," Trixie said. "We can skate on it in winter and toboggan down your hill." They were in the woods now and Trixie added, "I can hardly wait to see what it's like inside the Miser's Mansion. I've always wanted to know whether he really is a miser or just a poor old grouch."

  "It looks as though the house had been empty for years," Honey said as they approached the Frayne property. "Why, the upstairs windows are so covered with dirt you can't see through them. And just look at the way everything has grown up around here. It's a regular wilderness except for that little space right around the house."

  The trail ended at the boundary line between the two properties which was marked by a thick hedge interlaced with heavy vines. A narrow path wound from this point down the hill to the hollow and Crabapple Farm. "Let's tie our horses to this tree," Trixie said as she slid out of the saddle, "and push our way through the hedge. If we go around to the driveway, somebody might see us and wonder what we're doing."

  "I wouldn't dare crawl through that underbrush," Honey said as she dismounted. "It's probably alive with snakes."

  Trixie paid no attention to her and started through the hedge. "Wonder whatever happened to the summerhouse where Mrs. Frayne got bitten by the copperhead," she said, tugging at a ropelike vine. "It must have been right about here if Mother could see it plainly from the garden down in the hollow."

  "Copperhead!" Honey had fo
rced herself to take a few steps after Trixie, but now she stopped, shaking with horror. "Are there copperheads around here?"

  "Sure," Trixie shrugged. "But they won't hurt you unless you bother them."

  "I can't stand snakes," Honey insisted, with a shiver. 'And copperheads are poisonous. I wouldn't want to be bitten by one of them."

  "You won't be bitten, Honey," Trixie assured her, pushing ahead.

  I'm not so sure of that." Honey cringed as a vine slapped against her face. "Didn't You just say that Mrs. Frayne got bitten?"

  "That was in the summerhouse," Trixie said. "And the summerhouse seems to have disappeared. Anyway, it was one of those things that happen once in a lifetime."

  "Once is enough," Honey said with a nervous giggle as she gingerly took another step forward. At that moment, the underbrush sprang to life as a loud squawking sound rent the silence, and something black and angry flapped against Honey's legs. Honey screamed in terror and frantically grabbed Trixie's arm.

  A Scream and a Dog

  Trixie was so startled herself that, for a Moment, she stood stock-still. Then, she laughed with relief as she saw that their attacker was Queenie, the little

  game hen. With Honey still clinging to her arm, Trixie shouted, "Come on!" and pushed the rest of the--'- way into the clearing. Queenie flung herself at Honey's legs once

  ,led across more, then, squawking like an irate fury, darts

  the courtyard. The other hens immediately woke up the chorus, fluttering and cackling in wild confusion as they scattered in all directions. From the safety of the woods on the other side of the house, the bright colored game cock flapped his wings and crowed defiantly. "What was it?" Honey asked weakly. "I've never been so scared in all my life."

  "Nothing but a little black hen," Trixie said, "Why, you're shaking like a leaf. I was kind of scared myself," she admitted. "In another minute, she would Pave flown in our faces. It was a good thing you had boots on. She would have scratched your legs plenty."