to tell them what wonderful kids we are?”
“Gleeps! I hadn’t thought of that,” Trixie admitted. “I wish we weren’t so wonderful!”
Jim and Brian prepared bacon and scrambled eggs and lots of buttered toast. Their late-night adventure had given the young people hearty appetites.
After breakfast, Trixie removed a folded tissue from her pocket and opened it. The leaves inside were wilted, but still dark green.
“Does anybody know what this is?” Trixie asked.
“Where’d you find that?” Jim asked.
“In the cornfield last night,” Trixie said. “There were lots of plants like this. They’re surrounded by the com.”
“Sort of hidden,” Honey said, “where we saw Max standing on the day of the arson attempt.”
“I’m no botanist,” Jim said, frowning. “Neither am I,” Brian agreed. His frown matched Jim’s. “Hidden, you say? That suggests something.”
“What?” Trixie inquired.
Brian shook his head. “Pass them down to Mart. Maybe he can tell for sure.”
They turned. Mart was rubbing a swelling on his wrist where Honey had struck him with the flashlight.
“You’re the future agriculturist,” Trixie said, handing the tissue to Mart. “What kind of plant are these from?”
Mart was about to make a sarcastic remark, but his lips pressed closed and his gaze became intent. “What are you doing with that stuff?” he demanded.
“I just said that Honey and I found it at Mrs. Elliot’s. What is it?”
Mart didn’t answer. He took part of a leaf, crushed it in his palm, and smelled it. Next he broke a twig and smelled that also. “Do we have any matches here?” he asked.
Jim brought the matches from his camp stove. Mart struck one and burned a bit of one leaf.
“That smells like rope,” Trixie said.
Mart nodded. “Because it’s hemp.” He looked intently at Trixie. “Have you got any more of it? If you do, then get rid of it!”
“What is it?” Trixie insisted.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Cannabis” Mart said seriously.
Brian spoke quietly. “I thought so, too. Especially since it was hidden in the cornfield.”
“What on earth is Cannabis?” Honey asked.
“That’s part of the scientific name,” Mart said. “Usually it’s just called marijuana.”
“It’s illegal!” Honey said. “So that’s why Max is growing it hidden from sight.”
“It might not be illegal for long,” Jim said, frowning. “There are a lot of states considering legalizing it.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I think there’s a bill in the New York legislature to legalize it.”
“If it’s going to be legal,” Honey said, “then why hide where it’s growing?”
“Because,” Brian suggested, “if it was legal, there’d be regulations and taxes for producing and selling it, just like alcohol. If someone wanted to avoid those, he’d still hide the plants.”
“That’s why it’s hidden in the middle of the cornfield,” Trixie said. “That’s why Max didn’t hoe it down.”
“Mrs. Elliot’s property is a good out-of-the-way place to grow something illegally,” Honey added.
“And that’s why,” Trixie went on excitedly, “all those things are happening to Mrs. Elliot. She wouldn’t allow anything illegal, of course, so they’re trying to force her to give the place to Max.”
“There’s a problem with that theory,” Jim said. “Max doesn’t want the place. Remember what Mrs. Elliot told you? She offered to give the farm to him, but he refused. He didn’t even want to be a co-owner.”
“And,” Honey said, “he’s been doing things to protect Mrs. Elliot. He told her to have her Social Security check sent to the bank. He was the one who decided to pick the carnations earlier than usual.”
“But why,” asked Mart, “is he so huffy every time we suggest that something crooked is going on? He wants us to think that the things happening to Mrs. Elliot are just accidents.”
“Check,” Jim agreed. “I think he knows none of
“Gleeps! I hadn’t thought of that,” Trixie admitted. “I wish we weren’t so wonderful!”
Jim and Brian prepared bacon and scrambled eggs and lots of buttered toast. Their late-night adventure had given the young people hearty appetites.
After breakfast, Trixie removed a folded tissue from her pocket and opened it. The leaves inside were wilted, but still dark green.
“Does anybody know what this is?” Trixie asked.
“Where’d you find that?” Jim asked.
“In the cornfield last night,” Trixie said. “There were lots of plants like this. They’re surrounded by the com.”
“Sort of hidden,” Honey said, “where we saw Max standing on the day of the arson attempt.”
“I’m no botanist,” Jim said, frowning. “Neither am I,” Brian agreed. His frown matched Jim’s. “Hidden, you say? That suggests something.”
“What?” Trixie inquired.
Brian shook his head. “Pass them down to Mart. Maybe he can tell for sure.”
They turned. Mart was rubbing a swelling on his wrist where Honey had struck him with the flashlight.
“You’re the future agriculturist,” Trixie said, handing the tissue to Mart. “What kind of plant are these from?”
Mart was about to make a sarcastic remark, but his lips pressed closed and his gaze became intent. “What are you doing with that stuff?” he demanded.
“I just said that Honey and I found it at Mrs. Elliot’s. What is it?”
Mart didn’t answer. He took part of a leaf, crushed it in his palm, and smelled it. Next he broke a twig and smelled that also. “Do we have any matches here?” he asked.
Jim brought the matches from his camp stove. Mart struck one and burned a bit of one leaf.
“That smells like rope,” Trixie said.
Mart nodded. “Because it’s hemp.” He looked intently at Trixie. “Have you got any more of it? If you do, then get rid of it!”
“What is it?” Trixie insisted.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Cannabis” Mart said seriously.
Brian spoke quietly. “I thought so, too. Especially since it was hidden in the cornfield.”
“What on earth is Cannabis?” Honey asked.
“That’s part of the scientific name,” Mart said. “Usually it’s just called marijuana.”
“It’s illegal!” Honey said. “So that’s why Max is growing it hidden from sight.”
“It might not be illegal for long,” Jim said, frowning. “There are a lot of states considering legalizing it.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I think there’s a bill in the New York legislature to legalize it.”
“If it’s going to be legal,” Honey said, “then why hide where it’s growing?”
“Because,” Brian suggested, “if it was legal, there’d be regulations and taxes for producing and selling it, just like alcohol. If someone wanted to avoid those, he’d still hide the plants.”
“That’s why it’s hidden in the middle of the cornfield,” Trixie said. “That’s why Max didn’t hoe it down.”
“Mrs. Elliot’s property is a good out-of-the-way place to grow something illegally,” Honey added.
“And that’s why,” Trixie went on excitedly, “all those things are happening to Mrs. Elliot. She wouldn’t allow anything illegal, of course, so they’re trying to force her to give the place to Max.”
“There’s a problem with that theory,” Jim said. “Max doesn’t want the place. Remember what Mrs. Elliot told you? She offered to give the farm to him, but he refused. He didn’t even want to be a co-owner.”
“And,” Honey said, “he’s been doing things to protect Mrs. Elliot. He told her to have her Social Security check sent to the bank. He was the one who decided to pick the carnations earlier than usual.”
“But why,” asked Mart, “is he so huffy every time we suggest that something crooked is going on? He wants us to think that the things happening to Mrs. Elliot are just accidents.”
“Check,” Jim agreed. “I think he knows none of
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