The Mystery of the Galloping Ghost (12 page)

Then
all was quiet.
What if I lost Honey!
she
thought fearfully, her breath suddenly coming
harder. The thought distracted Trixie from the unfamiliar path ahead of her, across
which a winding loop of river suddenly cut its way.

When
Trixie saw what was happening, it was too late. Her foot came down on dried mud
that crumbled away, bounding down the bank and landing in the water with a
splash.

In
the next instant, Trixie, too, was tumbling down the riverbank.

Trixie plunged into
the icy river,
and sank down and down. It took every ounce of willpower she had to keep from
struggling. I’ll just get myself disoriented, she reminded herself. The thing
to do is relax. Eventually, I’ll float to the surface. It was a lesson she’d
been taught over and over by Jim, Brian, and Mart.

Seconds
later, she felt the top of her head break through the surface of the water. She
raised her head and took huge gulps of fresh, cool air. In between, she forced
herself to exhale completely. She knew that it was as important to get the bad
air out as it was to get the good air in.

Nearby,
she heard thrashing through the brush, a stifled scream and, seconds later, a
splash.

“Honey!”
Trixie tried to shout the name, but it came out as a
weak gasp. As she tried to swim in the direction from which the splash had
come, she became aware, for the first time, of the river’s strong current.
It’s no use,
she thought.
Swimming would just wear me out, without
getting me anywhere.

She
had to relax and let the current take her, hoping that she wouldn’t encounter
an undertow that would suck her down and not let her come up. If she was lucky,
she’d soon come to a bend in the river and the current would push her toward
the bank.

She
peered ahead, trying to see the outline of the riverbank. It was almost fully
dark now, and the edge of the black water was almost impossible to distinguish
from the shore. She felt a force tugging at her leg and she almost screamed,
until she realized that it was a weed, not the undertow she so dreaded.

Suddenly,
she saw the bank ahead.
I’m in luck!
she
thought.
Now I only hope there’ll be something along the shore to grab on to—and
that I’ll still have the strength to hang on.

Trixie
shook her head to clear the water from her eyes and the cobwebs from her brain.
She grabbed at a branch as she went past—and missed! She reached back and
caught it with one hand. Slowly, painfully, she pulled herself back against the
current. Triumphantly, she got a second hand around the branch. She moved hand
over hand for a couple of feet. Now she was out of the water from the waist up.
But the current against her hips and legs felt stronger than ever. The night
air, warm at first, soon felt even colder than the water.

Panting,
Trixie held on to the branch with both hands. She wanted to wait until her
strength returned, but she knew it wouldn’t. She’d only get colder and weaker, the
longer she waited.

She
looked up to the top of the bank, still at least four feet above her head. She
blinked,
then
squinted as she thought she saw a face.

“Gus!”
she said aloud.

The
old horseman was peering down at her. He didn’t speak. He gave a slow nod of
encouragement. Then he held out a gnarled old hand.

Trixie
let go of the branch with one hand and reached up, searching for Gus’s hand.
She felt the rough fingers and closed her hand around them. She took a deep
breath,
then
pulled with all her might.

She
felt herself rising through the air. Confident now of Gus’s grasp, she let go
of the branch with her other hand and found tufts of grass and weeds to help
her on her way up.

Finally,
she was on the top of the bank. She lay on her stomach in the forest’s carpet
of dead leaves and dry needles. Then everything went black.

When
she regained consciousness, she said, “I’m sorry, Gus, I—” She sat up and broke
off as she realized that the old man was nowhere in sight.

“Honey!”
she exclaimed. “He must have gone to help Honey!” With worry giving her a new
source of strength, she got to her feet.

“Trixie!”
The voice, hoarse and breathless, came from the
direction of the river.

Trixie
crawled to the edge of the bank and peered over. Honey was clinging to the same
branch that had, just moments before, saved Trixie. Seeing Trixie, Honey
reached up for help.

Trixie
was suddenly aware of her trembling muscles. She wiped her wet palms on the
sides of her wet jeans. “I don’t know if I have enough strength left to pull Honey
up,” she whispered in panic. But there was no sign of Gus.
He probably went for help after he pulled me
out,
Trixie thought.
He’d
have no way of knowing Honey was in the river, too.

“Trixie!”
Honey called out again. There was no more time for
waiting.

Trixie
threw herself onto her stomach. She wriggled forward until her waist was even
with the edge, the top half of her body hanging over. She reached out and felt
Honey’s hand, cold and clammy. She closed her eyes and pulled with all her
might.

Honey’s
hand came up and up. Trixie reached out with her other hand and grabbed her
friend’s belt. With that two-handed grip, she was able to throw her friend up
onto the bank like a sack of potatoes.

Honey
rolled over onto her back, gasping for air. “I wouldn’t have made it up the
bank without your help,” she panted.

“You
wouldn’t have fallen in without my help, either,” Trixie pointed out.

“How
did you do it?” Honey asked.

“I
just stopped looking where I was going, and my foot slipped, and—”

“No.
I mean, how did you manage to get out of the river without any help?”

“Oh!”
Trixie looked around for Gus again, but he was gone. Then she told Honey the
story of her rescue. “It’s strange that he didn’t stay around to see if I was
all right,” she said.

“He
probably checked to make sure that you were breathing,
then
went for help,” Honey said. “Besides, I’m glad he didn’t take you. If he had,
how would I have gotten up the bank?”

“Don’t
even think about it,” Trixie said grimly.

“Do
you think Burke fell in, too?”

“Oh, gosh!”
Trixie scrambled to her feet.
“I’d
forgotten— “She took two long steps to the edge of the riverbank and listened
in the silence. “
I don’t hear anything. He probably heard us fall and
turned back to— Honey, we have to move fast!”

But
Trixie suddenly realized that she had no idea where she was. “If we head away
from the river and move in a straight line, we should come out on open land
pretty soon,” she told Honey. She’d made it sound easy, but she knew how
difficult it was to follow a straight path in unfamiliar woods. Honey knew it,
too, but she didn’t challenge her friend. Shivering, they plunged forward into
the woods.

The
girls’ sneakers squished with every step, and their wet jeans chafed their
legs.
We can’t get lost this time. I
couldn’t stand it!
Trixie thought.

It
was only a few minutes before they saw the light ahead. Trixie felt a moment of
fear, remembering Burke’s flashlight. Then her heart leaped as she realized
that somehow they’d come to the edge of the woods right at Wilhelmina’s
hideout.

As the
girls came stumbling into the little camp, Wilhelmina looked at them in
astonishment. They were too hurried—and too tired— to tell any part of their
story to her. Trixie simply pointed across the yard at the
Murrows
’
house, from which lights were glowing. “Go get anyone you can. Bring them to
old Gunnar’s cabin—now!”

Then
she and Honey turned and hurried back into the forest. With Wilhelmina going
for help, it made sense for the girls to stay close to Burke—and to Al-
Adeen
.

When
they got back to the trailer, there was no sign of Burke. Nor were there any
sounds from inside the trailer.

Trixie
saw the fear begin to grow on Honey’s face. Burke might have taken the stallion
out of the trailer already. The horse’s body, throat cut or shot in the head,
might be floating down the river.

The
girls’ attention was captured by a low noise in the woods. The noise grew
louder, and finally its source came into view: Burke’s pickup truck was slowly
heading their way. Trixie and Honey watched it with growing hope. If Burke had
gone for his truck after they’d fallen in the river, he probably hadn’t had
time to harm Al-
Adeen
.

Burke
backed the truck up to the trailer, got out, and began hitching the two
vehicles together.

Trixie
tried frantically to think of a plan. The best she could come up with was
following the trailer, but she doubted it would do much good.

She
didn’t have to think any further. Hearing the rumble of
hoofbeats
behind her, she turned and saw Pat, Regan, Bill, and Charlene galloping toward
her.

Burke
saw them, too. He looked frantically from the trailer to his truck, as if
trying to decide whether to escape with one or both. He finally chose to make a
run for it.

But
it was too late. Pat Murrow had already swung down off his horse and gone after
Burke. He caught the man easily and forced him to the ground.

“The key!”
Honey shouted. “Make him give you the key to the
trailer!”

Regan
ran over to help. The two men forced Burke to hand over the key,
then
they pulled him to his feet. Regan held Burke, one arm
twisted behind his back, while Pat ran back to the trailer.

He
unlocked the door and went inside. Trixie, Honey, Charlene, and Bill waited,
hearts pounding.

The
wait stretched on for so long that Trixie had begun to suspect the worst. Then
she heard the sound of hooves, and Pat led Al-
Adeen
out into the open. Pat was wiping the sleeve of his shirt across his eyes, and
Trixie realized that it was his own emotions, not Al-
Adeen’s
condition, that had caused the long wait.

Charlene
and Bill ran to Al-
Adeen
and began stroking the
stallion’s neck.

“Is
he all right?” Regan called, still maintaining a firm hold on Burke.

“He’s
just fine,” Charlene said.

Pat
left the horse with his parents and strode over to Honey, who was shivering. He
took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
he asked.

Honey
smiled up at him. “I’m just fine,” she said.

Yet
another series of noises broke the stillness of the woods. Trixie turned and
saw Wilhelmina James hurrying toward her. Left behind by the riders, Wilhelmina
had followed on foot. Her glasses had fallen off, and she was squinting as she
tried to make out the scene in front of her. Since Trixie was the closest to
the edge of the woods, Wilhelmina approached her first. She thrust her face up
to Trixie’s and asked, “Are you all right?”

Trixie
tried not to laugh. She knew that she owed her safety—and Al-
Adeen’s
—to Wilhelmina. But she couldn’t help it. “I’m just
fine,” was all she could manage to say before the giggles overtook her.