Read Online The Mystery of the Whispering Witch by Julie Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Campbell
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on the tablecloth. “None of us know Fay that well,” he said slowly. “I was wondering whether she might have been behind all the strange things you say you saw and heard last night.”
Trixie felt bewildered. “But why?”
Brian shrugged. “Beats me. The whole thing sounds funny, that’s all. You heard people arriving at the house, you said. They were angry and shouting. Then you say they broke down the front door with axes. After that there was the business with the smoke. But when you came to look afterward, everything was normal. The door hadn't been broken into, there wasn't a fire—”
“Fay could have cooked up the whole thing,” Mart said. “Maybe she needed you there as witnesses. Maybe she was trying to turn your tumultuous tresses to silver.”
Before Trixie could come up with a retort, Brian put in, “He means she was trying to turn your hair gray.”
“Or maybe,” Mart said thoughtfully, “she knew that you are constantly panting after problematical predicaments—mysteries to you, Trix—and she decided to provide you with one.”
Trixie pushed back her chair and stood up. “That’s stupid,” she snapped, her blue eyes blazing. “I thought you two would be able to help. I should have known better. Fay’s in trouble, real trouble.”
Brian looked up at her and asked, “What did Dad say about all this?”
Trixie had the grace to blush. “I—uh—didn’t tell him—that is, not everything.”
“Why not?” Mart demanded.
Trixie looked down at her feet. “I didn’t want to worry him and Moms,” she said, “so I just told both of them that Fay’s mother had an accident, and that we’d been planning to spend the night at Lisgard House, but then we’d decided to come back here, instead.”
“Did you tell them what time you arrived home?” Brian asked. He frowned up at her. “It wasn’t the smartest idea in the world to walk home alone at two o’clock in the morning, you know.”
“To say nothing about throwing pebbles up at our window,” Mart added. “You nearly scared us out of half a year’s growth.”
Trixie glared at him. “It would take a lot to scare you out of any growth, Mart Belden,” she retorted, “especially out this way.” She made a large circle of her arms and then extended them noutward beyond the region of her stomach.
Brian chuckled. “She’s got you there, Mart. If you don’t stop eating, one of these days we’ll be calling you Mr. Five-by-Five.”
“I’d rather be called Five-by-Five than Two-by-Four,” Mart answered blandly. As his brother and sister raised their eyebrows, puzzled, he added, “That’s the size of Trixie’s brain—in centimeters, that is.”
Furious, Trixie was about to snap back at him, when she remembered her resolution of the night before. Instead, she contented herself with giving him a superior, tolerant look. “At the height of last night’s—uh—confusion,” she said at last, “I made up my mind that the next time you called me a pea-brain, Mart, I would agree with you.”
“Such humility is astonishing!” Mart declared at once. “And to what circumstance do we owe such an astounding reversal of your self-esteem?” Trixie looked down at her hands. “I was wondering if Fay had locked up the house,” she said, her voice low. “She had.”
Mart pushed back his chair and stood up. “That seems to settle that, then,” he said, the teasing note gone from his voice. “If no one could get into the house, Trix, then it had to be either Fay or Honey perpetrating a particularly putrid practical joke. We’ve already agreed that Honey wouldn’t do such a thing. So guess which one that leaves.”
“Oh, Mart, I’m sure Fay wouldn’t do such a thing,” Trixie said slowly, but she didn’t sound as certain as she had before.
Mart pushed back his chair and strolled to the refrigerator. He paused with his hand on the door. “Mind you, I’m not saying Fay did do the dirty deed. Never let it be said
Trixie felt bewildered. “But why?”
Brian shrugged. “Beats me. The whole thing sounds funny, that’s all. You heard people arriving at the house, you said. They were angry and shouting. Then you say they broke down the front door with axes. After that there was the business with the smoke. But when you came to look afterward, everything was normal. The door hadn't been broken into, there wasn't a fire—”
“Fay could have cooked up the whole thing,” Mart said. “Maybe she needed you there as witnesses. Maybe she was trying to turn your tumultuous tresses to silver.”
Before Trixie could come up with a retort, Brian put in, “He means she was trying to turn your hair gray.”
“Or maybe,” Mart said thoughtfully, “she knew that you are constantly panting after problematical predicaments—mysteries to you, Trix—and she decided to provide you with one.”
Trixie pushed back her chair and stood up. “That’s stupid,” she snapped, her blue eyes blazing. “I thought you two would be able to help. I should have known better. Fay’s in trouble, real trouble.”
Brian looked up at her and asked, “What did Dad say about all this?”
Trixie had the grace to blush. “I—uh—didn’t tell him—that is, not everything.”
“Why not?” Mart demanded.
Trixie looked down at her feet. “I didn’t want to worry him and Moms,” she said, “so I just told both of them that Fay’s mother had an accident, and that we’d been planning to spend the night at Lisgard House, but then we’d decided to come back here, instead.”
“Did you tell them what time you arrived home?” Brian asked. He frowned up at her. “It wasn’t the smartest idea in the world to walk home alone at two o’clock in the morning, you know.”
“To say nothing about throwing pebbles up at our window,” Mart added. “You nearly scared us out of half a year’s growth.”
Trixie glared at him. “It would take a lot to scare you out of any growth, Mart Belden,” she retorted, “especially out this way.” She made a large circle of her arms and then extended them noutward beyond the region of her stomach.
Brian chuckled. “She’s got you there, Mart. If you don’t stop eating, one of these days we’ll be calling you Mr. Five-by-Five.”
“I’d rather be called Five-by-Five than Two-by-Four,” Mart answered blandly. As his brother and sister raised their eyebrows, puzzled, he added, “That’s the size of Trixie’s brain—in centimeters, that is.”
Furious, Trixie was about to snap back at him, when she remembered her resolution of the night before. Instead, she contented herself with giving him a superior, tolerant look. “At the height of last night’s—uh—confusion,” she said at last, “I made up my mind that the next time you called me a pea-brain, Mart, I would agree with you.”
“Such humility is astonishing!” Mart declared at once. “And to what circumstance do we owe such an astounding reversal of your self-esteem?” Trixie looked down at her hands. “I was wondering if Fay had locked up the house,” she said, her voice low. “She had.”
Mart pushed back his chair and stood up. “That seems to settle that, then,” he said, the teasing note gone from his voice. “If no one could get into the house, Trix, then it had to be either Fay or Honey perpetrating a particularly putrid practical joke. We’ve already agreed that Honey wouldn’t do such a thing. So guess which one that leaves.”
“Oh, Mart, I’m sure Fay wouldn’t do such a thing,” Trixie said slowly, but she didn’t sound as certain as she had before.
Mart pushed back his chair and strolled to the refrigerator. He paused with his hand on the door. “Mind you, I’m not saying Fay did do the dirty deed. Never let it be said
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