Read The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder for Free Online Page B

inside.
    Instantly, Trixie felt, as she always did, that she had somehow stepped into another world.
    Her mother had once told her that Crimper’s hadn’t changed much since she herself was a little girl. Heavy wooden counters, some with glass tops, offered such things as pins and needles, embroidery silks and knitting yarns, towels and tablecloths, underclothes and nightgowns, beauty preparations and costume jewelry.
    Around the store’s dark-paneled walls, shelves were stacked with mysterious boxes that, when opened, were found to contain nothing more exciting than scarves or stockings, gloves or handkerchiefs.
    It was here, at Crimper’s, that Trixie’s grandmother had searched for bargains among the many brightly colored bolts of materials. And it was here, in the clothing department, that Trixie could still remember choosing clothes for her first exciting day in kindergarten.
    In spite of her eagerness to hear Mart’s story, Trixie couldn’t resist avoiding the wide wooden staircase at the back of the store. It led to the housewares and home furnishings departments, as well as to the restaurant, on the second floor.
    Instead, she led the way to the ornate and creaking elevator beside it. Mart had once said that it wheezed like an asthmatic dowager, but Trixie had always liked it.
    She was fascinated by its glass-fronted entrance doors and by its heart-stopping, jolting ride. She often thought its passengers could never be entirely certain that the elevator was going to reach its destination.
    Dan obviously thought so, too. “Are you sure this thing is safe, Trix?” he asked, stepping gingerly inside it.
    “Trixie likes to believe it isn’t,” Brian answered, “but I’ve never yet known it to break down.”
    He waited until all his friends were inside before he moved the old-fashioned lever to start their ride.
    Jim looked around at the elevator’s red velvet interior and polished brass handrails. “Boy,” he said admiringly, “they sure knew how to build things to last in the old days. Don’t you think so, Trix?”
    Absently, Trixie nodded, though she wasn’t really listening. She found her thoughts returning again and again to Mart’s puzzling statement of a few minutes ago. What had he meant when he said that he was responsible for the actions of the Midnight Marauder? What could it be that he was going to tell them?
    She glanced at his silent figure standing beside her. Then she stiffened when she found that he was staring intently at the main floor below them.
    Trixie followed his gaze. She saw the rain beating against the store’s large plate glass windows. She saw customers in front of counters and salespeople behind them.
    She saw young Mr. Crimper, who was now the store manager, since his father had retired. He sat in his glass-fronted office just inside the main entrance. As she watched, he caught sight of her in the slowly ascending elevator, and he smiled and waved his hand.
    Trixie raised her hand to wave back. But in the next instant, the smile froze on her face. Suddenly she realized what had attracted Mart’s attention.
    Ruthie Kettner was standing in the store’s far corner, which was reserved for artists’ supplies. She was about to make a purchase—and that purchase was a large paintbrush.
    “Maybe,” Mart said slowly, “I was wrong about Lester Mundy after all. Maybe it’s Ruthie who’s the Midnight Marauder.”
    Trixie frowned. “Whoever it is,” she replied, “I know one thing for sure. If you’re that worried about it, we’d better find out—and fast.”

    When the elevator jolted to a stop, Trixie was the first one out of it. Quickly she led the others to the restaurant’s entrance and stood looking about her.
    Although it was still early for lunch, many of the tables were filled with people who were lingering over their morning coffee. Trixie guessed that they were really waiting for the rain to stop.
    At a table a short distance away, two dark-haired women