“You don’t mean to tell me the trees still talk!” Horace exclaimed. “That’s news! If we can find out why—”
“We don’t mean to tell you anything we don’t wish to see printed in the Farringdon Daily Herald,” Judy interrupted. “The story would look pretty ridiculous, anyway, without an explanation. ‘TREES TALK. SCARE TOURISTS AWAY.’ Seriously,” she continued, “some rather peculiar tourists did stop here. That’s why we’re taking down the sign.”
“I don’t get it,” Horace said. “If you didn’t want them to stop, why did you put the sign up in the first place?”
“We did, only we didn’t. Oh, bother!” Judy exclaimed. “I’m not explaining anything, am I? It’s a good thing you don’t write the way I talk. By the way, did the Herald’s star reporter bring along a copy of today’s paper?”
“He’s sitting on it,” giggled Honey.
“Ouch!” exclaimed Horace as Judy pulled the paper out from under him and then seated herself at his side to read it. “That news is hot off the press. I might have burned myself. It was my own story I was messing up, too.”
Judy glanced at the headlines—THIEVES LOOT MILLIONAIRE’S HOME—and quickly read Horace’s story about the mysterious looting of a secluded old mansion not far from the national forest.
“The national forest!” she exclaimed. “Honey, do you remember the look that man gave me when I mentioned it? The other men acted funny, too. Maybe they were the thieves. Horace, could they have been escaping over this road?”
“I wouldn’t think they’d still be around. The robbery was pulled Thursday night, and this is Saturday,” Horace replied. “I haven’t the remotest idea what men you’re talking about, though. Everything I know about the robbery is right there in the paper.”
“I see it is. It has your by-line on it. Where did you get your information, Horace?”