Read Online The Mysterious Code by Kathryn Kenny - Free Book Online Page B

here and there to repair them, and from what you tell me Brian and Mart and Jim can do that. Brom would do it if he could, but he’s forgetful.”
    “I’ve never seen him before,” Trixie said. “I’ve heard of him, though, but I didn’t think he was real. People say he’s another Rip van Winkle.”
    “He lives in a small cottage on the property that used to belong to his family, a very old Dutch family, older than my own. The wooded land is part of Mr. Wheeler’s game preserve now. He is so proud he never asks for anything. Sometimes, though, when he gets hungry, he comes to my door. I am proud to be able to offer him my hospitality.”
    As she finished talking they walked back into the kitchen. Bobby was sitting on Brom’s knee. The old man’s arm was tight around him. Bobby seemed to be his dear new-found friend.
    “Mr. Brom knows the wonderfulest stories,” Bobby explained, “about witches an’—well, one witch anyway. Mr. Brom is goin’ to come and see me some day.”
    “Then you really
are
his friend, Bobby,” Mrs. Vanderpoel said.
    “Please do come to see us,” Trixie said. “We’d all love to have you come, Mr. Brom.” Through the window Trixie could see the snow. “It’s snowing hard, Mrs. Vanderpoel,” she said. “I think Bobby and I had better start home. Do you think we could take the lap desk on the sled? I want Mart to see it, and the rest of the Bob-Whites. Maybe I should wait till later.”
    “No, go right ahead and take it, Trixie. Brom, do you think you could carry it out to the sled for Trixie?”
    The old man jumped up quickly. “I’ll call that young man who’s shoveling the walk to help you settle it on the sled,” Mrs. Vanderpoel said to Brom. “Young man, come here, please!” she said as she opened the door.
    “Now, Trixie, come and I’ll show you the things in the lean-to shed—just a once-over look so you’ll know what to tell the boys,” Mrs. Vanderpoel said.
    “You be careful of that desk now,” Bobby warned the big boy as he lowered Mrs. Vanderpoel’s gift onto Bobby’s lap. “It’s a anteek for the Bob-Whites to sell at their show.”
    “For how much?” the big boy asked.
    “About a hunnerd dollars I guess,” Bobby boasted.“An’ that’s not all. There’s lots of other things Mrs. Vanderpoel’s goin’ to let the Bob-Whites take for their show next month. They’re worth zillions of dollars.”
    Old Brom bent down and rubbed his hand over the oak desk. “It’s pretty,” he said.
    “Yeah,” the big boy said, thoughtfully. “Yeah, it is, now, ain’t it?” He propped the snow shovel against a tree and ran off across the yard and into the woods.
    It was snowing heavily, but Trixie started off briskly on the mile journey home. It was drifting on the wood path, but she knew the going would be better when she reached Glen Road.
    “Sing me a song, Trixie,” Bobby said. “This desk is sorta heavy.”
    “Pull it up farther on your lap, Bobby,” Trixie said, “over your knees.”
    Then she sang at the top of her voice, “Over the river and through the woods …” Bobby joined in the chorus. It was silent and near dark in the big woods, and their voices echoed back.
    “That’s enough of that singing!” a voice called out to them, and Trixie stopped, frozen in fright. Three men came through the undergrowth and stopped in her path. Their faces were covered with stocking tops drawn tight to conceal their features.

    Bobby thought it was great fun. “Robbers!” he cried. “I’ll get you!” He made a snowball to throw at them.
    “Cut it out, kid!” one of the men said. “We ain’t playin’. We mean business.”
    As he spoke the other two seized the sled, upset desk and Bobby, then dragged the sled and desk off through the woods.
    “I couldn’t hold on to it, Trixie,” Bobby cried, tears mixing with the snow that covered his face. “They stealed your desk! Honest, I couldn’t hold on to it.”
    “Never mind, honey,” Trixie