Chapter 19:

Free At Last!

"Get outta there! And don't try anything funny. I've got a gun," Jake hissed, pounding on the glass with his fist.

He had his other hand tucked in the baggy pocket of his clown suit. In it, Trixie could make out the silhouette of a revolver. So when Honey suggested they obey, Trixie didn't object. Slowly, the girls slid back the door and stepped out.

"We called the Sheriff," she told him, hoping he'd buy the bluff. "He knows you're here, Jake. If you're smart, you'll let us go and get the heck out of Dodge."

Jake threw back his hideous head and laughed hysterically. "So you finally figured out who I am, did you? Took you long enough!"

"Didn't you hear her?" Honey shrieked, trying to gain someone's attention. "We called Sheriff Baker."

"So what?" Jake sneered. "Baker couldn't find his mother in an empty room. And that posse of his? They're nothin' but a bunch of buffoons — bad news for the likes of you two. Where you're goin', they'll never find you. It's a pity it won't be out with a bang like your red-headed friend though, sweet ladies."

Trixie wondered what Jake meant by "out with a bang." It wasn't a comforting thought. "Where are you taking us?" she demanded, hoping if she stalled long enough, Regan might appear from around the corner.

Jake spat on the ground and then grabbed her arm tightly. "To a little place I used to go as a kid," he replied with a wicked chuckled. "Bet you didn't know I worked here once, did you? Of course, the park wasn't so fancy in those days, but some things haven't changed. Now shut your traps and get moving. We'll finish our little chit-chat later."

As he nudged Trixie and Honey forward, Trixie made a silent prayer they'd run into Regan or the boys along the way. But alas, it wasn't to be.


To the girl's horror, the inside of the Fun House was a crazy maze of deceiving mirrors, loaded with baffling dead ends and topsy-turvy walks. Adding to the confusion, blaring calliope music, mixed with wild peals of laughter, was being piped through the narrow halls. Familiar with the layout, Jake herded the girls through the maze with ease. But without him, Trixie realized she'd be hopelessly lost.

After seemingly endless twists and turns, the terrified young ladies found themselves being ushered into an empty cul-de-sac. At first, Trixie thought Jake had made a mistake, but that wasn't the case.

Pinning the girls in a corner, their abductor's jaundiced eyes flashed anxiously from mirror and mirror as he watched for possible interruptions. And then he did something Trixie never anticipated. He pushed in the end glass, revealing an abandoned storage closet.

"Get in!" he ordered in a gruff whisper.

When Trixie and Honey didn't move fast enough to suit him, he violently shoved them inside. Toppling to the dirty floor, Honey let out a piercing scream. Trixie tried to reach out to her, but Jake knocked her away, shutting the false door behind them.

"You can yell all you want, kid, but no one's gonna hear you over that circus racket," he growled, pulling on a bulb by its string. "Only do it again while I'm here, and you'll end up with a bullet in your head. Understand?" Jake removed the pistol from his pocket and ran the cold nozzle across Honey's temple.

Trixie could see her friend trembling and didn't trust what Jake would do next. For the more fearful Honey became, the wider Jake's smile seemed to grow. And what a terrible smile it was. How Trixie despised those buttery teeth rimmed in red greasepaint. The same bloody grease paint that had warned them to "leave" on the night of the storm.

"So what now?" she asked Jake, hoping to divert his attention away from her traumatized friend. "Do you plan just to leave us here to starve to death?"

"It's your own fault," he hissed in yanking Honey's hands behind her back. Jake returned the gun to his pocket and began binding the girls' hands and feet with strips of discarded rags. "If you'd taken the tickets and stayed home to see the carnival, you wouldn't be in this mess. But no, you stupid kids had to go pokin' around in my business."

"Was my brother Mart also "pokin' around" in your business when you tried to run him down?" Trixie spat back angrily. "Or was that just another of your many mistakes, Mr. Jones?"

Without knowing it, Trixie'd struck a nerve. Violently infuriated, Jake slapped her across the face and then tightened the ties about her wrists. "Sister, you've got one big mouth," he told her coldly. "Maybe it's time you learned when to use it. Tell me, where'd the old man stash Handleman's stamp? And don't try playin' dumb. I've been stickin' to you like glue. I know you know where it's at."

Trixie's face stung and she didn't want to risk upsetting Jake again by withholding the information he was after. But she also recognized this might be her only chance at getting Honey and herself out of the predicament they were in. "If you let my friend and I go, I'll tell you," she bargained bravely.

Honey's eyes widened, but she remained silent. "Be careful, Trixie," she thought to herself. "Jake's no fool."

And she was right. Jake wasn't about to give Trixie the upper hand. "Here's the deal, kid. You tell me where the stamp is, and I won't blow your pretty little head off."

Trixie didn't have to pretend to be frightened. "Ok, just don't shoot," she stammered nervously. "It's back at the farm. There's a walnut desk in the den. When you open the top drawer, you'll see some old newspaper clippings about the robbery. Next to them is an un-mailed letter. The stamp on the envelope is the one you're looking for."

"You'd better not be lying," Jake threatened, cocking his gun.

"She's not!" Honey cried in a panic. "Tell him, Trixie. Tell him!"

Trixie gulped. She hoped beyond hope that Sheriff Baker would be hiding at the farm, waiting to nab Jake when he arrived. If he wasn't, she could only pray that the stamp on the letter in Dan's desk was the one she thought it was. The one Sam Jones had stolen from Mr. Handleman all of those years ago. If not, Trixie feared Jake would return. And that was something she didn't want to think about. "I'm telling you the truth," she said firmly.

Seemly mollified, the crooked clown lowered the hammer on his gun and tucked it away. It was time to make his get-a-way. Pressing his ear up against the door, Jake decided the coast was clear. Tugging the light string above Trixie and Honey's head, he opened the one-sided mirror just enough to slide out. As he clicked it back in place behind him, Trixie could hear that horrible voice cackling, "Night-night, little ladies. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Honey broke down in tears. Trixie couldn't see her, the only light came from a crack under the door, but there was no mistaking it. Her friend was sobbing.

"Honey," she said soothingly, "everything will be all right. When Jake goes to the farm to get the stamp, Sheriff Baker will catch him, and he'll have to confess where he's hidden us."

"But what if he doesn't?" Honey wailed, voicing her doubt. "Jake's eluded the Sheriff and his men time and time again, Trixie. Why should this time be any different?"

"Maybe it won't," Trixie replied. "But whatever happens, know the boys will find us. I'm sure Regan went crazy when he came out of the men's room, and we were gone. Why he's probably rounded everybody up, and they are already in an all-out manhunt."

Honey's sobs lessened. "Do you really think they'll be able to find us hidden in this labyrinth?" she asked her friend hopefully.

Trixie did her best to stay optimistic. "I do, she said. "And there's always a chance we can escape on our own. I can't reach the door handle, but I might be able to pry open the mirror if I can wiggle my fingers into the crack."

Jake had trussed the girls up, so it was impossible to walk. With her hands and ankles tied, Trixie felt like a fish out of water as she slapped her body across the dirty floor toward the door. Once there, she tried to wedge her fingers into the slit, but it was much too narrow.

"The boys will find us," the stoic young lady reminded herself, battling the fear that she might never see her family or friends again.

Then Trixie had an idea. She was still wearing her silver I.D. bracelet. If she could get it off and slide it through the crack, one of the boys might spot it. It was one in a million chance, but it gave her a glimmer of hope. What she didn't know was one of her predictions had already come true.


Outside, Regan was going wild. When he emerged from the restroom and couldn't locate the girls, or Officer Joe, he knew something was terribly wrong. Rushing to the security office, located at the front gate, Regan had the uniformed man in the kiosk, page the missing security guard. Next, he ordered him to announce over the park's intercom system, that everyone in the Bob-White's party was to report to the front entrance immediately.

Officer Joe was the first to arrive. He was red-faced from running and surprised to hear the girls had disappeared. He'd left them under the watchful eye of Jolly Jake the Clown, until Regan returned. Jolly Jake had come to him to report an emergency at the Racing Rat amusement, near the main gate. It had been a false alarm. Someone had set off the ride's warning bells as a prank. So returning to the Ferris Wheel, Officer Joe found everyone had gone, so he assumed all was well.

"Well, it's not," Regan insisted. "The girls would not have gone off with someone they didn't know. Jolly Jake has got to be Jake Jones. And I can tell you this, he's no clown, and he's mighty dangerous. But try paging him anyway."

As the boys and Tom rushed the gate, they noticed the girls were missing, and Regan was alone.

"Where are Trixie and Honey?" Tom asked with alarm.

"Don't know," Regan replied. "I left them with Officer Joe when I went to use the restroom. When I came back, they were gone. Apparently, Joe got called away, and one of the clowns was supposed to stay with the girls until I got back. Only this clown called himself Jolly Jake."

Chills went up and down Mart's spine. "Jonesy's brother!" he cried, putting two and two together.

Jim hoped the clown's name was some kind of sick coincidence. "How well do you know this Jolly Jake?" he asked the officer.

"Don't know him at all," Officer Joe admitted. "I'm not a regular at the Park. I'm only here today on special assignment."

The chief of security grabbed the phone and quickly dialed up Personnel. They had no record of anyone calling himself "Jolly Jake" on the payroll. He knew it wasn't what Jim wanted to hear. But neither was his next piece of news.

"We'll give the young ladies a few more minutes to answer our pages," the aging officer said. "It'll give me time to get my people in place. If your friends fail to show, we'll be ready to find them. In the meantime, do you have any idea where they may have gone if they wandered off alone?"

"They knew better than to go off by themselves," Reagan reaffirmed. "But maybe they thought they had enough time to run back to the caricature parlor to gather their things before lunch. I just don't know."

"Tom and I will go check," Brian volunteered. He knew it'd be a waste of time, but he felt helpless just standing around.

Returning a short time later, Tom and Brian dumped the girls' pictures and keepsakes onto the counter in a show of defeat. The girls and Jolly Jake the Clown were still unaccounted for, and Margret Ann had not seen hide-nor-hair of the young ladies, either. Worse, Maggie had no recollection of anyone calling himself Jolly Jake working at the park.

Everyone agreed they had waited long enough. After initiating a full-out search of the grounds for Trixie and Honey, the chief of security got on the horn to the sheriff's department. To the boys and their chaperones' alarm, the woman on the other end of the line admitted that Trixie had called a short time before, but that she'd hung up suddenly without explanation.

"Trixie wouldn't have called Sheriff Baker unless there was some kind of emergency," Dan admitted. "But there is a bright side to this. The timing of her call suggests the girls may have given Jake the slip when they got off the Ferris Wheel."

He grabbed a tourist map from the nearest rack and spread it across the counter in front of his friends. Drawing an imaginary line from the Ferris Wheel to the phone booth closest to the restroom, Dan suggested the Bob-Whites begin their search there. "Maybe someone will remember seeing them," he finished hopefully.

It seemed a logical place to start, and as the group from Sleepyside were preparing to depart, a young man, not much older than boys, stepped forward out of a crowd of curious onlookers. "Excuse me," he said a bit sheepishly. "But are you looking for the girls in those sketches over there?"

Brian immediately snapped to attention. "We certainly are," he said. "You haven't seen them, have you?"

The young man took a closer look at the caricatures of Trixie and Honey, which were lying on the counter next to Dan's map. "I don't know about the chick with the funky eye," he began slowly, "but I know I saw the prettier one."

"They're both pretty," Jim told him firmly. "But I'm assuming you mean my sister, Honey. Where was she when you last saw her?"

"She was going into the Fun House as we were leaving," the young man's girlfriend volunteered. Miffed that her beau had taken an eye to Honey, she didn't try to hide her jealousy. "And the girl with the curly hair was with her. I remember because she looked like that sharp fellow over there," she added, batting her eyelashes at Mart flirtatiously. "It's possible they got lost inside. It's very confusing, you know."

Calling a quick "thank you" over their shoulders, the boys rushed off with Tom and Regan on their heels.

Coming up on the Fun House, Jim located the attendant, who wasn't too difficult to find. Dressed as a harlequin, wearing gaily printed tights and a sliver of a black mask, she fit in perfectly with the other cast of characters they'd encountered throughout the day.

"I'm looking for two teenage girls in matching red jackets," told her straight up. "One's blonde and short. The other one's taller, and I'd say her hair's more brownish. Did they come through here recently?"

"Why yes, I remember them," the young lady replied cheerfully. "As far as I know, they're still inside. I haven't seen them leave, anyway. Though the clown who was behind them left some time ago. He was acting terribly rude, I'm sorry to say. Pushing and shoving the girls through the line like no one's business."

Not taking the time to explain their intentions, the boys immediately split into two teams. Dan and Mart would go with Regan, while Jim and Brian with Tom. As they charged into the maze, the young attendant tried calling out to them. "If you're in a hurry to find your friends, you might want to watch the floor," she cautioned them. "It's the best way I know to avoid getting lost."

Only her advice fell on deaf ears, and it wasn't long before Jim's group came to a standstill at a dead end. Glaring irritably at his reflection in the mirror, the red-headed young man wanted to put his fist through the glass. But then something caught his eye. "Fellas, hold up!" he anxiously called before they could retrace their steps.

Bending over to retrieve the familiar chain, Jim pressed his hand against the glass wall to steady himself. As he did, the mirror gave way and sent him tumbling to Trixie and Honey's rescue.


"Oh, Jim! I thought you'd never find us," Honey sobbed as her brother gasped and motioned for his friends' assistance.

Brian and Tom nearly bumped into each other in their frantic rush to help.

"Is this Jake's work?" Brian asked angrily as he struggled with the bonds cutting off the circulation in his little sister's limbs.

Trixie nodded affirmatively. "Honey spotted him when we were on the Ferris Wheel," she explained. "He was in his clown getup. We think he probably took it when he stole the red pickup. Jake has been passing as an employee, Brian."

Tom finished untying Honey's ankles and then helped her to her feet. "He didn't hurt either of you, did he?"

Honey glanced in Trixie's direction, wondering the best way to reply. "Jake did slap Trixie around a little," she admitted. "But he scared us more than anything, I suppose."

Smoothing back Trixie's mussed up curls, Jim revealed the tender red mark where she'd been struck.

"It's nothing," she told the group men who were suddenly hovering over her. "I'm OK. Really, I am."

Jim's temper, which had begun to flare at the thought of Jake Jones striking his best girl, extinguished it's self as he noticed she was still shaking. "I'm so sorry," he told her, wishing he could make things better. "I promise, Trixie. Jake will rot in prison for this. I'll make sure he never lays a hand on you, or anyone else, ever again."

Trixie smiled up at him and then backed away. "Then get me to a phone," she said, regaining her composure. "Jake's on his way to the farm. We need to alert Sheriff Baker, pronto."

Jim didn't hesitate. Taking Trixie by the hand, he led the anxious group through the winding halls of the maze. When they finally stepped out into the sunshine, the girls took a deep breath of fresh air. They were free at last!

But there was one small problem. The other half of the rescue party was still inside the Fun House. Instructing Trixie and Honey to wait by the exit with Tom, Brian and Jim went to round up the rest of the gang. Fortunately, it didn't take too long, and after a quick round of hugs, the reassembled group hurried to the main gate to alert security and to place their ever-important phone call.


Before she knew it, Trixie was talking through the receiver of the chief of security's personal telephone. "Hello?" she said, as someone picked up but didn't immediately speak. It sounded like there was a lot of commotion going on in the background, and Trixie wondered what was up. Finally, the woman she'd spoken to earlier, greeted her back. "Yes, I'm still here," Trixie said, rolling her eyes. "This is Trixie Belden. I need to speak to someone who can get an urgent message to Sheriff Frank Baker for me. Is he? Oh. Of course, I'll hold."

Trixie held her hand over the mouthpiece. "The sheriff's in his office," she told the curious Bob-Whites. "He wants to talk to me." She turned her attention back to the telephone as a booming voice came over the line. "Sheriff Baker?" she asked. "Yes, Honey and I are fine. No, one got hurt. You did?! When? That's wonderful! Thank you! We certainly will. Good-bye."

Trixie put down the receiver. "They caught Jake!" she exclaimed excitedly.