He dreamt of the man and woman he had seen earlier, and how much they reminded him of his own parents. The man looked to be the age his father would be if he were still alive, but the young woman looked much like his mother had in school pictures. He dreamt of his father teaching him to ride Black Magic, and how excited he felt, and when his mother stood looking out the back door with a dish towel in one hand, waving to her son with the other hand. The wind flowed through her light brown hair, and her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires.

He dreamt of the day his father died. It was a week after their little �father-son� talk in the stable. He had been working out in the stable and Jim had been just around the corner washing the stable windows when he saw his father fall and heard a loud crash. He seemed to be running backwards, and just couldn�t get there in time. Standing in the doorway, he saw his father lying on his side, gasping for air and sweating profusely. Every freckle stood out on Jim�s pale white face as he watched, not knowing what to do.

�MOM!� Jim screamed and ran inside. Katie was close on his heals as she ran out to the stable to see what the matter was.

She stopped short in the doorway and turned to her son, who was out of breath and trembling. �Jimmy. You need to go inside and call the ambulance, okay?� She was so calm about it.

�Mom, what�s happening?� Jim asked with a shaky voice.

�Never mind that right now, Jimmy. Just please call the ambulance.� Katie pulled some of the saddle blankets off one of the shelves and wrapped them around her husband and spoke soothingly to him. The ambulance arrived as soon as possible and rushed Jim�s father off to the hospital. Jim sat in the waiting room with his mother holding his hand tightly, while the doctors attended to Win in the emergency unit. A tall dark haired doctor wandered out into the room and approached them.

�Mrs. Frayne?� the doctor asked Jim�s mother.

�Is he all right?� She stood up and asked calmly, but her voice trembled.

The man looked from the young boy to his mother and took her hand in his. �I�m sorry about your husband, Mrs. Frayne.�

Katie lowered her head as a few tears escaped. �Thank you, doctor,� she choked. �Heart attack, right?�

�Mrs. Frayne, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need. The chaplain is here tonight if you need him.� The doctor gestured down the hallway.

�No thanks, Doctor. I don�t need to speak to a him.� Katie pulled a handkerchief out of her handbag and dabbed her eyes. �Win�s had heart trouble before.�

These words from his mother came as a complete shock to Jim, who stood there, frozen in his spot, not knowing what to do or say.

Suddenly, without warning, Jim was standing behind his mother, who wore a floor length gown and linked arms with a tall, husky, dark haired man. They turned to face each other and kissed as the surrounding onlookers clapped. The smile on her face was far from matching her smiles of years gone by. The spark was no longer there.

A loud crashing sound echoed through his ears and the unpleasant realm of his dream was interrupted. Within seconds, Jim sat up and pointed the rifle at Jonesy, who he expected to see. But instead of the gnarly ogre from Albany, he was looking straight into the eyes of a young, curly haired blonde girl with sparkling blue eyes, and freckles, who didn�t look the least bit scared by him, whereas her friend looked as if she�d faint dead away.

All was silent for a few seconds as the dust settled. He didn�t care who they were. Right now, they were invading what he considered his property. It was the closest thing he had to anything from his family anymore. Probably just some nosy girls who need to be taught a lesson in trespassing. It�ll do �em good to give �em a good scare. He was surprised to see the shy, timid one had the courage to speak up first.

�Oh, please don�t shoot us,� she wailed, almost sobbing. �We didn�t mean to spy on you. Really, we didn�t!�

She was the girl he saw earlier, but knew not to let her know this. She was just a little snoop who saw someone at the house and had to come back. Jim frowned and set his jaw. �What are you doing here? You have no business in this house!�

The tall thin girl began to shake as she looked at his rifle and his face, studying his green eyes. Suddenly the shorter girl with the curly blond hair spoke up.

�Neither have you!� she snapped. �This place belongs to Mr. James Winthrop Frayne, our neighbor. My father took him to the hospital this morning. We were just checking to be sure all the doors and windows were locked. But you� she added with a shake of her curly head, �seemed to have moved right in.�

Ignoring the girl�s remarks, Jim slowly stood up without taking the rifle off the two snoops. He wasn�t sure about them and didn�t believe her story. It was plain to see that Uncle James died long ago. �To the hospital? Where and why?�

�The Sleepyside Hospital,� the blonde girl told him. �He�s got pneumonia and he�s half starved too. Not,� she shook her curly head again at him, �that it�s any of your business, but the doctors don�t think he�ll get well.�

Her tone of voice hurt him a little, because it certainly was his business, but he didn�t let that show. Uncle James? Still alive? His shoulders drooped and he laid his gun down on the mattress. �I thought he was dead,� Jim said aloud to himself, looking around the living room again. Then to the girls he stated in a less threatening tone, �When I got here this morning and found the place filled with junk, I figured Uncle James must have died a long time ago.�

Both girls looked shocked. �Uncle James!� they both shouted at him.

When the blonde girl inquired about this, he bent over to pick up his christening cup and showed it to her. �James Winthrop Frayne, II,� she said aloud.

�My great-uncle,� Jim explained. �I walked most of the way from Albany to find him. But I guess I�m too late. Well, I�ll stick around for a while anyway. There�s a vegetable garden in the back and plenty of chickens and rabbits.� His voice grew sullen and threatening. �If you tell anyone I�m here, I�ll fix you good!� The last thing he needed was a couple of girls running home to tell their families of the runaway up at the Frayne house.

The blonde girl stood her ground. �We�re not tattletales!�

�But what about your father and mother?� the other girl with the light brown hair asked. �Won�t they worry about you?�

�I haven�t any family except Uncle James,� Jim said with still a hint of threat in his voice. �I�ve got a stepfather if you can call him that. And if he finds out where I am, he�ll drag me back to his farm and beat me and make me slave from morning till night without pay.� As he spoke he tensely gripped the silver mug as if his very life depended on it. �I tell you I won�t go back and nobody�s going to make me. See?�

�Of course you don�t have to go back,� the brown haired girl blurted out. �You can come home and live with my family. My father�ll adopt you. I�ve always wanted a brother and Daddy�s got lots of money so you can have a horse and a dog and anything else you want. Nobody�ll ever beat you again.�

The blonde girl waved her hand at the other girl. �Don�t be silly. He can stay at our house where he�ll have brothers about the same age.�

Jim stood in front of the two intruders with a confused look on his face. Man, these girls are weird. The thought of two young silly girls being nice to someone like him made him laugh. �Gee you two are funny,� he sneered at them. �You�re arguing about who�s going to have me. Stop your kidding! One would think you really meant it!� He couldn�t help but give the girls an odd stare. They were incredibly na�ve and wouldn�t have lasted two seconds on Jonesy�s farm.

�I do mean it!� both girls cried together.

Jim stopped laughing, as he realized that for once, someone was actually being nice to him. Living with Jonesy for the past few years had made him forget that there were actually decent people in this world. �I believe you do,� Jim said after sobering his laughter. �Nobody�s been nice to me since my mother died two years ago and I guess I�ve forgotten how to act with�nice, decent, well behaved people.� He looked down at his dirty right hand and held it out to the blonde girl. �Shake. My name�s Jim. What�s yours?�

The blonde girl thrust her own tanned sturdy hand in his dirty one and shook it vigorously. I�m Trixie Belden. I live down at Crabapple Farm.�

�And I�m Honey Wheeler,� said the other girl as she delicately laid her small slender hand in his. �I just moved into the large house on the hill.�

Feeling at ease with his new acquaintances, he began to remember his manners and invited them to make themselves at home. �I�d sure like to be adopted by both of you, but it�s impossible. Jonesy is my legal guardian and he�ll never let anyone take his place.� The three of them sat down on the mattress while he spoke. �When I was born, my father�s Uncle James sent me this mug and named me in the Frayne wills. Shortly after that, Aunt Nell died and Uncle James was never heard from again. Mom and Dad always told me that the inheritance is a half a million dollars and Jonesy thinks he�s going to get control over it once Uncle James dies.� Jim stopped to look around the room cluttered with books, magazines, newspapers, bottles, crates, and other miscellaneous things. �It looks like I�m going to inherit nothing but a lot of old junk.�

�Don�t be too sure of that,� Trixie argued. �A lot of people think there�s a fortune hidden in this house.�

Honey shook her head. �That�s impossible. Nobody who had any money would live in such an untidy place.�

Jim nodded his head. �She�s right, Trixie. Uncle James must have lost all his money in bad investments. But Jonesy doesn�t think so. You see, he snooped around down here right after Mom died and heard the same story. He�s just waiting until Uncle James dies so he can get his hands on it.� Jim shook his head as if he didn�t want to believe that there actually was an inheritance, but a small hint in his voice belied his actions. �I�ll never see a penny of it.�

Honey�s hazel eyes grew wide with sympathy. �He sounds like an awful person.� She stopped to stare at a small beetle crawl across the floor. �Did he really beat you, Jim?�

�Sure. But I didn�t mind it so much.� Jim tried to sound as if the question didn�t bother him. He hated to talk about it to anyone. �Of course, he never did while Mom was alive, or, well, we didn�t tell her.�

It was quiet for a few minutes as Trixie and Honey looked at each other as if they were thinking of what they could say. Jim knew full well by looking at the two girls that they had no idea what he was talking about. He didn�t mean just a simple disciplinary spanking. He meant abusive, over-powering beatings that had no point to them. He knew for certain that when Trixie went home, she would receive a warm smile and a nice warm dinner. Just the thought of dinner right now made him queasy.

Honey sat quietly for a few minutes. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked away from Trixie and studied the beetle even more. Her desperate attempts to be discrete about her tears failed as one escaped and she wiped it away with the back of her hand, and sniffed. Jim could clearly see it in her expression and mannerism that she, more than Trixie, understood some of what he had gone through.

�Is your father dead too, Jim?� Trixie asked quietly, avoiding eye contact with Honey.

Jim didn�t say anything for a while, but stood up to peer out the dirty living room window. No, he is still alive. �Yes, Trixie, he is.� No, he is still alive. He turned around from the window and leaned against the wall. Staring into the girls� eyes, he pondered whether he should tell them about his dream or not. Hey, who cares? They�re just a couple of girls who�d either tell me that I�m crazy or that I should go home. Doesn�t matter what they say, or if they laugh. I�m not going back there, and there isn�t anything anyone can do about it. No silly girl is going to make me do anything. Before he spoke, he stared into Trixie�s wide blue eyes, and Honey�s hazel ones. And took back his thoughts about them.

�You know what?� he asked them, breaking the silence. �Some day I�m going to own an all-year-round school for kids who haven�t any fathers of their own. I�m going to run it so they can study their lessons and learn a trade at the same time. They�re even going to learn to box, shoot, and skate. They�re going to learn to ride, live in the woods and understand all kinds of wild animals. My Dad taught me to�� Jim�s voice strayed.

Trixie and Honey each sat cross-legged on the mattress intently listening to him go on about his dream. To him, it was most absurd. �This must sound funny to you. Me shooting off like this in a run-down house without even a cent to my name!� Jim looked all around the living room.

Trixie stood up so that she was facing him directly. Her freckles stood out on her fair skinned face, eyes were stark blue, and she put her hands on her hips. �It doesn�t sound funny at all. It sounds great. I bet you will do it too, Jim.�

Trixie�s optimism was contagious because Honey stood up and stepped next to her friend. �I bet you do too,� she said. �I�d like to go to a camp like that instead of all the dull ones I went to.�

Jim shrugged. �Well, I�ve got a long way to go. I often tried to apply for summer jobs at many of the boy�s camps up state as a junior counselor, or an athletic instructor, but Jonesy wouldn�t have it. That�s what we fought about most of the time, because he didn�t like the idea of having to hire out for help at the farm. So, he made me stay and work from morning till night without any pay. I�m pretty good at sports, and when Dad was alive�� It hurt him to talk about the things that he did with his father. Those days were over, and there wasn�t anything that could be done about them. It reminded him, not of how he lost his father in death, but how Jonesy had taken his place at Katie�s side. �Dad taught me a lot about woodcraft and things like that, but I suppose that Jonesy figured that if I could prove myself, that I�d leave.�

Both girls were soaking up every word he was saying. Each of them had an expression on their faces that made Jim think of his mother�s smiles that were always dripping with empathy whenever he had a problem. Jim explained to the girls about the argument he had with Jonesy on Wednesday when he ran away to Sleepyside in search for Uncle James and his inheritance.

�You mean you haven�t had anything to eat since Wednesday?� Trixie gasped.

Jim shook his head. �A few little berries I found. That�s all. I couldn�t buy anything to eat or stay anywhere because I had no money.� Jim�s eyes met Trixie�s. �That�s another thing Dad taught me. Which berries and things that grow wild are safe to eat.�

�We�ll go right home and get you something to eat, Jim,� Honey broke in. �You must be starving!�

Jim�s stomach immediately began to ache at the thought of food. �I could do with a little something. I planned to shoot a rabbit and roast it on an outdoor spit, but now that you mention it, I just don�t think I can wait much longer to skin and clean it.�

Trixie darted out the living room and back through the den. �I�ll be right back,� she called.

�Wait!� Jim called after her. �How are you going to get food out of the house without someone getting suspicious?�

Trixie�s face fell. �I hadn�t thought of that.�

As fast as Trixie�s face fell, Honey�s brightened up. �I know,� she said, �I�ll tell Miss Trask that we want to have a picnic in the woods. The cook always packs enough food to feed an army, and we can bring it up here and have lunch with you.�

�Great!� Trixie cried as she headed back to the window again. Before jumping out, she turned around and walked up to Jim. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a sad looking candy bar. It was half eaten, half crushed, half melted, and half covered in pocket fuzz. �Will this tide you over until then?� she asked, handing him the candy.

Jim hesitated a bit before taking it. He wasn�t sure if he should take it or not, but his stomach thought differently. Brruuummmmble-ummmble. Without another thought, he took the candy from her, and in a second, the wrapper was licked clean. �Thanks,� he said as he looked sheepishly into Trixie�s blue generous eyes.

Trixie didn�t have the heart to tell him that he had chocolate on his chin and cheek.

Suddenly, loud neighs from horses erupted from outside. All three of them raced over to the living room window to see what was wrong. A dapple-gray mare was thrashing around a strawberry roan, who was rearing. There was a loud crashing noise coming from the bushes around the horses.

Jim thought he caught sight of yellow thrashing around in the thicket, tangling himself more than he already was. He grabbed the rifle and vaulted himself out the window. Tearing over across the clearing, Jim stopped and raised the rifle to his shoulder and aimed at the bushes, waiting for the animal to come out. In an instant, the animal bounded out across the clearing and ran straight into the forest. It was a yellow dog with burrs in his coat, and foam dripping from his mouth. Jim didn�t shoot because he couldn�t get a clean shot. He put the gun down and looked to his side, where Trixie had was.

�It was a dog,� he told her. �Wish I could�ve shot him.�

�Shot it!� Trixie sputtered and looked directly into his eyes. �You wouldn�t shoot a poor helpless dog, Jim, just because it frightened the horses?�

He looked away from her and shook his head. �It looked like a mad dog to me. There was foam dripping from his mouth.�

As if there weren�t enough chilling surprises already for the three young people, a child screamed helplessly from the woods. Trixie�s face turned pale as she turned her frightened eyes to meet Jim�s. �It�s Bobby,� she gasped and bolted directly towards the screams.

�Trixie!� Jim called after her, but she didn�t hear. Clutching the rifle tightly, he bolted after her, stopping short behind a bush to see her crouching over a little boy with blond curls all tangled with sticks and leaves and tears running down his face. Seeing that the boy appeared to be all right, Jim ducked behind the bush and headed back towards the house, passing Honey on his way back. She had the horses with her.

�I hope the dog that scared the horses didn�t have rabies,� he told her while petting the roan�s nose. �But, if it was a mad dog, you don�t have to worry. They�ll run in a straight line across the country, so he�ll probably not come back.� Honey didn�t say anything, but just nodded. Good thing the horses weren�t in his path, though, because mad animals will attack anything in their way.�

�Is everything okay?� Honey asked quietly. She could hear Bobby crying.

�Sure. The boy looks fine to me.� He let horse nuzzle, in search of a possible sugar cube, or an apple. �Say, she sure is brave to run off into the woods with a mad dog loose. Takes a lot of courage.�

�I know,� Honey nodded again. �I wish I had her courage most of the time.� With that, Honey headed back down the trail with the horses to meet up with Trixie, and her younger brother, Bobby.

Jim remembered a few rabid animals that used to race across Jonesy�s property and it would frighten the animals. Sometimes, Jim couldn�t tell the difference between a rabid dog with foam dripping from its mouth, and Jonesy with beer foam dripping from his. He chuckled and quickly hid behind the hedge. From where he was hiding, he could hear Trixie scolding and soothing the little boy, whom Jim assumed was her little brother.

�Hey, who was that running behind you and why did he sneak away when he saw me?� the shrill little voice asked his older sister.

Jim tensed up. He just knew that the little boy would go home and tattle to his mom and they�d have him turned in. He knew now that he could trust the girls, but he wasn�t sure about the little boy. Then he heard Trixie�s voice.

�It must�ve been Honey. She went back to get the horses I guess.�

Jim let out a sigh of relief because the little boy bought it. Then he heard Honey�s voice.

�You don�t have to come up to the stables with me, Trixie. Ji�.� Jim gritted his teeth as he heard Honey slip, but she caught herself. �I�ve heard that if a dog is mad it always runs in a straight line across country. So we don�t have to worry.�

Not willing to stick around to risk someone else come in answer to Bobby�s screams, Jim vaulted himself back in through the window of the house and shut the window. While inside, Jim busied himself by looking for more ammunition for the rifle he found. He found a few boxes of shells. There was already one bullet in the gun. After opening the chamber and ejecting the bullet, his face paled as he stared at it in his hand.

I could have killed her, Jim thought, remembering the startled look on Trixie�s face when he awoke that morning to find her looking over him. She was scared, but brave enough to hide it from him. He began to think about them. They haven�t known me for a whole hour yet, and already they are bringing me lunch. They are already investing hopes in my dreams, and they really don�t know me. Those girls wouldn�t believe in me so much if they knew all about me, and where I come from. He laid the gun down on one of the barrels and leaned against the wall, staring out the window.

His mind reverted back to that morning upon seeing Honey riding up on her horse with the redheaded man. He really did feel linked to her as if he�d known her all his life. Even with what little interaction he had with her just in the past hour, she didn�t feel like a stranger.

�Jim?� Trixie called lightly from outside the window. After opening the window, he stared down at the two girls holding a large picnic basket with a tablecloth over it to keep the contents warm.

�You know,� Jim said as he looked over the girl�s heads to the hedge, �we really ought to have a special signal of some kind.� He looked thoughtful as the girls handed the basket to him and climbed through the window. The soft little airy chirp of a quail that he used hear all the time as a young boy on his Dad�s farm came back to him. �I�ll teach you how to imitate a bobwhite, then whenever I hear that bird call, I know its you.� Both girls eagerly looked at him as he demonstrated the bobwhite call. Bob-white. Bob-bob-white.

As the girls helped him set up the vast amount of food, they each tried the whistle as well. Honey got the hang of it quickly, but Trixie had a hard time whistling through her teeth. �You know how to whistle, don�t you?� he asked Trixie with a twinkle in his eyes. They were friendly now as compared to the unfriendly look from before.

Trixie laughed and puckered her lips in the shape of an O and whistled the bob-white call. Honey giggled and suggested that Trixie try by sticking her thumb and middle finger in her mouth. Soon, Trixie was able to whistle just as good as Honey and Jim.

During lunch, they talked about the messy house, and Jim insisted that he wasn�t going to clean any of it up as long as his uncle was still alive. �He must�ve liked it this way,� he said, �so we have no real right to change anything without his permission.� He tore a hot steamy leg off the roasted chicken on the platter, and munched it thoughtfully. �I wonder if he�ll ever get well. If he doesn�t, I�m out of luck.�

�Dad is sure to stop by the hospital,� Trixie assured him while making a big chicken sandwich. �He�ll let us know how he�s doing.�

Jim ate heartily during lunch. It had been his first meal in three days, and he was starved. While eating, they talked a bit about the supposed fortune that is hidden there. His impression of the girls really began to change the more he got to know them. At first, he thought of them as some nosy, dumb girls who needed to be taught a lesson in breaking and entering, but now he was thankful they came around. There was something different about Trixie, though. She wasn�t like any of the girls he went to school with. He thought of Kandace Kayne, the head varsity cheerleader at Albany High, and how she was always so perfect. But really, just about her only talent was that she could run, jump, kick, yell, and twirl her pom-poms, and she always got a thrill out of the fact that her name, when shortened, was Kandy Kayne. She dated Rick Patrick, who was on the varsity basketball team. Then there was Linda Hoff, who was also perfect. She could hold her own in a speech and debate competition and she also was very successful as class president, but when it came to an unscripted conversation, she had the personality of a doorknob. There weren�t too many girls like Trixie at his school.

Bringing him out of his reverie, Trixie turned to him suddenly and said, �I think we should start looking for the treasure right now. If Mr. Frayne dies without ever regaining consciousness, nobody�ll ever know where it is.�

Jim laughed at her persistence. �How do you know there�s a treasure, Trixie?� he teased. �There�s a whole barrel full of bottle caps if that�s what you mean.� He gestured to the study.

Trixie went right on, ignoring his teasing. �I have a feeling there�s a ton of money or jewels or something hidden around here.� She scrambled to her feet and immediately started looking through some of Mr. Frayne�s stacks of papers and books.

�I wouldn�t even know where to begin,� Honey said as she stood up and looked around the dusty room.

Jim looked around too. �Neither would I, but I suppose that the roll-top desk would be the most logical place.� He stalked over to it and tugged on the wooden handle on the front. It was locked.

�I don�t think we�ll find it in a logical place,� Trixie said. �If I were a miser and was afraid of robbers, I�d hide my treasure in the same room where I slept and in the most illogical place imaginable.�

Well what do you know! We�re in the presence of a little moll dick! �For instance?� he raised his sandy red eyebrows at her.

�Like this stack of old newspapers,� she said as she resumed her search through old yellow brittle copies of The Sleepyside Sun. �No burglar would have the time or patience to sort through these, but it would be a swell place to hide money.�

He lowered his eyebrows into a frown and glanced around the room again. �You mean there might�ve been a method to my uncle�s madness?�

Trixie shrugged and kept flipping through the pages, which tore easily due to age. Honey shuddered as she saw a spider crawl out of one of them. �I wouldn�t go through those filthy papers for anything,� she said defiantly. �It�s probably crawling with cockroaches! I agree with Jim, the desk is the place to look.�

Trixie said nothing but just kept on looking. For a few more hours, it went on like this. Trixie sorted through books and newspapers, Honey started on some old �St. Nicholas� magazines, while Jim checked the barrels and glass jars. The roll top desk was locked, and the little drawers on the outside top of the desk had nothing in them but acorns and other little treasures that the squirrels found outside. Suddenly Trixie yelped.

�Oh joy!� she exclaimed holding up a green tinged brass key that had fallen out of one of the newspapers. �I�ll bet this fits a treasure chest. Now all we have to do is find it!�

Jim took the key from her and looked at it carefully. �I don�t know, Trixie. It looks more like an old-fashioned door key to me.� He looked up at her and then over at Honey who had stopped her search to come and see what the excitement was all about. �But I can�t imagine why Uncle James would�ve hidden it under that stack of papers.�

�Well, let�s go see what door it�ll open!� Trixie cried as she took off for the front door. It didn�t fit in any of the doors, and finally, Jim dropped the key into his christening mug.

�I�ll bet it fits a closet or something in the one of the upstairs rooms,� Jim said gazing up at the plaster ceiling. But we can�t go up there because the staircase is boarded up.�

�But we could climb in through one of the windows,� Trixie added excitedly, but Jim only shook his head �no�.

�I don�t like to do that,� he said soberly. �This is my uncle�s home, not mine. He must�ve boarded up the top floors for some good reason of his own.�

The sound of something scampering across the floor alerted Trixie and Jim, but Honey let out a small scream and clutched Jim�s arm.

�I�ve always known that this house was haunted, Jim,� she said as her whole body shook.

Jim started to laugh. Haunted! Heh! �Squirrels, of course, or maybe field mice.�

�Oh Jim,� Trixie cried as she turned to face him and took his hands in hers. Man there was just something about her. �I�d like to explore up there!�

Jim was doing a fine job of standing his ground and not giving in to her power until he saw excitement protruding from her eyes like fireworks and fireballs. But Honey spoke up.

�I wouldn�t!� she cried emphatically. �At this point I�d rather see a ghost than a mad squirrel.�

Trixie�s excitement drained from her blue eyes as she burst out laughing at her friend. �Silly!� she remarked at Honey, who looked scared. �Say, what�s the idea, Jim, of scaring Honey half to death with crazy stories about mad animals?� She giggled uncontrollably now and Honey began to feel more at ease.

Jim felt hurt. He knew about rabid animals and didn�t need some little girl making fun of him in front of other people. �They�re not crazy,� he said seriously. �I saw a mad weasel once and I�ll never forget it. I was fishing one time and it came straight at me, running like fury. Lucky for me, I had hip boots on, or else I wouldn�t be here to tell you about it. I killed it and showed it to Dad, and he said that more than likely the weasel had hydrophobia, and that there was a mad dog scare around the countryside. Chances are,� he continued, �the mad dog had bitten the weasel.�

Trixie rolled her eyes and sniffed. �I never heard of such a thing. I�ll bet you made it all up.�

Suddenly, Trixie�s face turned into that of Jonesy�s scowling one and then back again. He envisioned that ogre laughing at him. Jim squared his shoulders, narrowed his green eyes and flushed with anger. �There�s one thing you�d better find out right now, Trixie Belden,� he said through his teeth. �I never make things up.� Then he glanced at Honey�s face, which had grown pale at his anger. �That was one of the reasons why I left Jonesy. He didn�t believe me when I told him about the scholarships and how I had skipped a year. Jonesy wanted to fight about it, but I decided I was through with it. So I left.� By now his face was flaming red and he was losing control of his temper. To avoid saying anything he might regret later, he turned on his heel, stalked across the room and vaulted out of the window.

Outside, he kept walking and disappeared behind a hedge, where he sat down on an old rotted tree stump and put his head in his hands. He could hear the faint �I�m sorry, Jim. I didn�t mean it� from Trixie, who called after him, but he didn�t answer. He felt bad about blowing up at her. She didn�t mean anything by what she said, but it hurt. Why can�t anyone ever believe in anything I say? Out of sheer frustration, his eyes moistened with tears, and he wiped them away. Watching a big fat June bug waddle past his foot, he began to think about what just happened.

He thought of Honey�s terrified face as he was describing rabid animals, and how one was running directly towards him. She saw the rabid dog scare the horses, and how white her face had been when he passed her on the trail, and how she refused to go into the woods when Bobby screamed. Instead, she just sat on the windowsill. She definitely was frightened, and even wished she had the same courage that Trixie had. Trixie was bold and strong, something he admired in a girl. Honey was more like his mother, who probably wouldn�t touch a worm if her life depended on it, but was strong in so many other ways. Honey just didn�t know how strong she was yet.

Trixie had spunk, courage, and best of all, a positive attitude. He admired how generous she was, and how she set to work right away to help him find his inheritance. When she came across the key that morning, his heart had secretly leapt for joy, and he told himself that he would try every lock he could find. But then when he exploded at her because of her accusations, she stood her ground in front of him, trying not to cry. She looked so sad, and very sorry the instant he yelled. He didn�t want her to cry, but had to make her understand that he wasn�t making things up.

After a few minutes, he slowly stood up and walked back to the house. The window was open, but the girls were nowhere in sight. Once inside, he looked out the window, and began to doubt if he�d ever see them again. What a super way to thank two very nice girls who brought me a lunch along with happy banter, instead of fierce looks while I choke my food down. He returned to the living room to continue his search while there was still some sun, and noticed a small bundle on the mattress. It was a bread roll and a chicken thigh wrapped up in a napkin with a small note attached.

Author�s note: Not so much as a lick of permission to use any of the names, places, etc. All information regarding Jim�s violent past is based on the Trixie Belden books: �The Secret of the Mansion� and �The Mystery of the Missing Heiress�.

Please note: Dialogue is from �The Secret of the Mansion� and is NOT my own.

I sincerely apologize if any part of my story is inaccurate. I have never experienced a life like Jim�s, nor do I know anyone who has. If I have offended anyone who has a dark past, such as Jim�s, please forgive me, as this was not my intent.

I did not obtain permission to use Slim Whitman�s name, Glen Miller and his song �In the Mood�, The Hit Parade, and I�m sure there is a Ming�s Chinese Restaurant out there somewhere. In fact, there�s one in Missoula, MT. My intent was to use an Oriental name. There probably is a Mona�s Diner, but this was a made up diner. Roz and Gary are fictional characters. If I forgot anything else, I�ll make it simple: I made it all up.

A special Bob-White thanks goes out to Mary who proof read this chapter for me. You're super terrific, Mar!