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that I’d think evil of an honored houseguest, but—” he paused—“we don’t know that much about her, you know. She might be playing some game we know nothing about. I’d be careful if I were you. And I certainly wouldn’t go anywhere near that spooky old house again, if I could help it.”
    Trixie didn’t look at him. “Umm—that’s the next thing I was going to tell you. We—that is, Fay and I—have to go back there sometime today.”
    Brian stared at her. “Trixie! What on earth for?”
    “We—umm—that is, we left in such a hurry last night,” Trixie said quickly, “that we weren’t looking when we grabbed some clothes and flung them into a suitcase. We thought we’d packed what Fay would need for her stay here, but when we put everything away this morning, we—we discovered that we had grabbed all the wrong things for Fay to wear.”
    Trixie could tell that her brothers had already guessed what she was about to ask next. Brian’s next words proved it.
    “And so you want us to come with you to pack the right things?” he asked, sounding annoyed.
    “Can’t you make do with what you’ve got?” Mart asked. “For crying out loud, what does she need? A couple pairs of jeans, a shirt or two? What did you pack?”
    “Bathing suits,” Trixie said and looked up at last at her almost-twin. “Why, Mart, what’s the matter? Don’t you want to visit the haunted house? Are you afraid that Sarah Sligo will turn you into a little green frog and that you will go ribbit, ribbit, ribbit forevermore?”
    Brian sighed. “Okay, Trix. We’ll come with you after I’ve taken Fay to visit her mother in the hospital. We’ve called Dr. Ferris, and he said Mrs. Franklin was doing fine, by the way. I told Fay we’d be ready to leave in an hour.”
    Trixie felt more relieved than she was ready to admit. Although she had been prepared to go with Fay to collect her clothes, she hadn’t been looking forward to it one bit. She knew that Honey felt the same way. Perhaps, too, Fay would feel better about explaining her problem to them once she had seen that her mother was really all right.
    Only once that morning had Trixie tried to ask about what Fay had wanted to tell them the previous night. But when Trixie mentioned the subject, Fay hadn’t wanted to talk about it.
    She had merely squeezed Trixie’s hand and said, “I’ll tell you later, Trixie, honestly I will. But let’s just leave it for a while, okay? I—I’m enjoying myself so much here. You have no idea how nice it is to hear a sound overhead and realize it’s only Bobby or Reddy or Brian or Mart. I don’t have to wonder if it’s someone—or something— else.” She had paused. “Besides, I’m sure I can trust both you and Honey, but—”
    It was then that kindhearted Honey, seeing Fay’s discomfort, had offered to show her Manor House and its grounds.
    “I should have let her tell me all about it last night,” Trixie muttered to herself. “As it is, I’m simply dying of curiosity.”
    “You usually are,” Mart remarked, taking a bowl of apples from the refrigerator and setting it carefully in the center of the table. “And speaking of curiosity, perhaps you, Trixie, can provide your elders and betters with some relief from one minor, but persistent, twinge of guilt experienced by two male members of your clan.”
    “Oh, Mart!” Trixie exclaimed. “Why can’t you ever speak plain English?” She watched him as he reached toward the apple bowl. His hand hovered over it.
    She knew him only too well. He had finished his breakfast; now he was ready for a snack!
    Brian chuckled and laid down his fork. “Mart means that he and I have been feeling guilty because we walked out on you last night, Trix— before all the excitement began, that is. We were just wondering if you’d finished your homework.” Trixie had a sudden sneaky thought. “Take two apples from three apples, and what do you have?” she asked innocently.
    Mart looked