"Honey and I'll bring them down this afternoon, after we search. Can I fix you some lunch now?" Trixie asked.
Jim shook his head. "I've already eaten, but I would like a hot shower. It was awfully hard keeping clean up there. I washed my shirt and pants a couple of times, but I couldn't really get the dirt out in that cold water."
"You can have all the hot water and soap you want," Trixie said. "And I'll find you some of Brian's clothes. While you're in the shower, I'll wash the ones you have on. They'll dry in no time in this hot sun."
Honey came down around four o'clock, and the girls bicycled to the store for the New York evening papers.
"They just arrived," Mr. Lytell told them, pointing to the first page.
Pilot Bails Out At Miser's Mansion the headline read, and in the bank under it were the words, Missing Heiress Sought in Rochester
"Isn't that just like a newspaper?" Honey giggled. "They would make it a girl!" She clapped her hand over her mouth as Trixie's elbow dug into her ribs. But it was too late.
Mr. Lytell glanced at her with quick suspicion. "Eh, what's that?" he started to say.
Trixie grabbed the paper. On page two were pictures of the Mansion and the debris-filled living-room. Trixie read the caption out loud: "In this house and perhaps in this very room a fortune may be hidden."
"I doubt that." Mr. Lytell walked with the girls as far as the door. "In my opinion, Mr. Frayne died a pauper. What was that you were saying about a girl?"
"Nothing," Trixie said hastily. They got on their bikes and pedaled away from the store. "Oh," she moaned, "Jim isn't going to like this at all. I wish we didn't have to show him the papers." Then she added, "You must be more careful, Honey!"
"I know it," Honey said shamefacedly. "I almost let the cat out of the bag, and that man's suspicious enough anyway."
Treasure
The freckles stood out in the whiteness of Jim's face as he read the newspaper account of the plane crash. The first two paragraphs covered the pilot's story, but the rest of the report was concerned with Mr. Frayne's recent death and the fact that there was no way of tracing the niece-in-law who would inherit the estate.
A reply to a query in Albany, just received, the story ended, revealed a birth certificate for a boy, James Winthrop Frayne II, who, if he is still alive, would be fifteen years old this month. Authorities are making every effort to locate this boy and his mother who seem to have vanished into thin air after the death of the boy's father, five years ago.
"We didn't vanish," Jim said, staring at the newsprint. "We stayed right on in Rochester until Mother married jonesy. Then we went to live on his farm outside of Albany." He turned the page to the photograph of the miser's cluttered living-room. "What a bad break," he said slowly. "That christening mug of mine which I left on the mantelpiece stands out more clearly than anything else in the room. The light must have hit it. If Jonesy sees this particular picture, he'll know just where to look for me. I'd better get going."
"You can't," Honey wailed. "Everything's all set for tonight. Regan said we could go for a moonlight ride at nine o'clock if you went with us. He's going to have the horses ready. All three of them, Jim," she pleaded. "Don't you want to have one last ride on Jupe?"
Jim was obviously tempted. He ran his hand nervously through his thick red hair. "Gosh, I'd like to," he admitted, at last. "And even if Jonesy does see this picture, he isn't apt to come around here until tomorrow sometime."
Trixie let out a sigh of relief. "Come on, Honey," she said, starting for the screen door to the terrace. "If Jim's really going to leave the first thing in the morning, we'd better start right now giving the Mansion one last thorough search."
"I think you're wasting your time," Jim said. "But go ahead. I'll read this book I found. And please don't forget to bring back my mug and the Bible."
"I think we're wasting our time, too," Honey said as she and Trixie climbed up the hill with Reddy racing ahead of them. "And if we don't find anything, I want to give Jim some money before he goes, Trixie. I never spend my allowance, you know, and I'd like him to have it. But I don't quite dare. He might be insulted."
"I thought about that, too," Trixie said. "I've got five dollars coming to me at the end of the week and I almost asked Dad for it today, so I could give it to Jim. But I doubt if he'd accept it. He's awfully proud and stubborn."
"I know," Honey agreed. "I wouldn't like him if he were any different, but just the same I wish he'd let us help him."
Trixie clambered over the window sill. "The best way to help him is to find his uncle's money. Why don't you tap around that desk in the study, and see if you can find a secret panel while I work in the living-room. I'm still sure it's hidden in there somewhere."
Trixie felt along the paneled walls of the living-room, but without success. "There's no sense in going through those books and papers again," she told herself. "And we've moved everything at least twice looking for a trap door. I'd better give up in here and try the dining-room."
Honey joined her then, and together they pulled away the heavy mahogany sideboard. Dust was caked inches high on the baseboard behind it, and the wallpaper was streaked with grease and dirt.
"There's no secret hiding place here," Honey said after a while. "But how about that big picture on the other wall? In books, there's always a wall safe behind an old family portrait."
"Well, that's not a portrait," Trixie said, with a giggle- "I's just about the ugliest still life I ever saw. Look at those hideous flowers and that stiff bowl of fruit. That apple," she said giving it an exasperated poke, "is no more an apple than I am a-" She stopped in surprise, for suddenly the whole picture supporting frame sprang away from the wall revealing a hidden alcove. "Honey," she cried, "I must have accidentally pressed the button which releases a spring. I thought that apple looked as though it had been painted in as an afterthought." She ran into the other room for her flash-light.
"Empty," Honey moaned. "Absolutely empty. Did you ever know anything like it? That old miser must have-"
"Wait a minute," Trixie interrupted. "There is something way back in the corner." She thrust her hand into the alcove and triumphantly pulled out a tiny, leather-covered jewel case. With a flick of her fingernail she snapped open the gold clasp. "It's an old-fashioned-d engagement ring," she gasped. "Golly, did you ever see such an enormous diamond?"
"It's huge," Honey breathed excitedly. "And it must have belonged to Jim's great-aunt. Now I know his uncle was crazy. He hid her ring in here, boarded up the top floors, and deliberately let the summerhouse and the arbor get overgrown. It just doesn't make sense. I'll bet he did lose all his money in bad investments."
"I'm not so sure of that," Trixie said slowly. "It does make some sense, you know. He just didn't want anything around to remind him of his wife. Anyway, this ring is probably worth a lot of money, and I'm glad we found it for Jim." She stopped. "Oh, heck, somebody's coming. I can hear Reddy barking."
Together the girls crept to the open window and saw Reddy racing in angry, threatening circles around a man who had a camera strapped to one shoulder.
"It's another newspaper photographer," Trixie whispered. "Boy, I hope Reddy scares him away."
"I heard the policeman tell them not to go inside the house," Honey whispered back. "He won't dare come in, will he, Trixie?"
"That man wasn't here this morning," Trixie told her. "He's probably from the city. Oh, gosh, he's not the least bit afraid of Reddy. Look, he's patting his head, and Reddy's eating it up."
"We'd better hide somewhere," Honey said, in a frightened voice. "Oh, where'll we go, Trixie?"
"In the cellar," Trixie hissed. "Quick!"
As they darted through the kitchen, Trixie suddenly remembered the gaping hole in the dining-room. "I'd better put that picture back in place," she whispered. "If a photograph of that secret hiding place appeared in the papers and Jonesy saw it, he'd think Jim found the money and would never stop looking for him."
She ra
ced back and slammed the big oil painting against the wall as the photographer climbed in through the living-room window.
"Who's there?" he called out as he heard the loud bang.
Trixie dodged through the pantry into the kitchen and drew Honey quickly behind her down the cellar stairs. She had left her flashlight in the alcove, so it was pitch black with the door closed.
"I'm too scared to move," Honey breathed. "We'll break our necks on these rickety old steps." She pitched forward then against Trixie and let out an involuntary scream.
Trixie groped wildly in the darkness for the railing and found it just in time to prevent both girls from falling to the stone floor below. "We've got to go down and hide behind something now," Trixie said desperately. "If he heard you scream, he'll open the door and find us on the stairs."
Somehow, they found their way down, and in the narrow shaft of light from the small, cobwebby window, they located the furnace and hid behind it. just in time, too, because, in a minute, the kitchen door swung open, and a man's voice called out:
"Anybody home?"
A spider scurried across Honey's arm, and she had to set her teeth to keep from crying out. She let out a long sigh of relief when the man finally moved away, closing the door behind him.
They crouched behind the furnace, listening to the footsteps on the floor above for what seemed like hours. At last there was a long silence, and Trixie groped her way back up the stairs. With the additional light from the kitchen, Honey followed her, and together they tiptoed into the hall. From there they could see into both the dining-room and living-room and felt reasonably sure that the photographer had gone.
"He may be taking pictures of the outside," Trixie whispered. "I'll climb out and look around." A taxi was just pulling out of the driveway at the foot of the hill and Trixie called, "He's gone, Honey. Come on. Let's go home."
Reddy was waiting for them in the clearing, and then they saw Queenie, proudly marching from the underbrush, clucking to five little newly hatched chicks.
Reddy circled around them with great interest but kept at a safe distance.
"Oh, aren't they darling?" Honey gasped. "She's really a wonderful mother. I don't blame her now for flying at me the other day. I must have almost stepped on her nest."
Trixie chuckled. "Even Reddy has sense enough to stay away from her when she has chicks." She patted her pocket to make sure the ring was safe. "I'm glad we have something for Jim, anyway. And let's try to keep him from worrying the rest of the time. I can hardly wait for our ride tonight. Regan was swell to let us go."
"He said he wouldn't worry about us if Jim was along," Honey said. "But I had an awful time talking Miss Trask into letting me stay with you tonight. At first she wanted to come, too, or invite you up to our place."
"I was afraid of that," Trixie admitted. "How'd you ever make her give in?"
"I honestly don't know." Honey smiled. "She was arguing with me when suddenly she stopped in the middle of a sentence. 'Why, Honey Wheeler,' she sort of gasped, 'you're getting fat! And you're as brown as a berry. Your parents will be very pleased when they get back and see you looking so well.' And then she said, more to herself than to me, 'It's that Belden child that's done it,' and added, 'All right, Honey, you have my permission to spend the night with Trixie. As a matter of fact, there's a movie in the village I want very much to see. Regan will be here if you need him. I'll tell him to stay up till I get back.' "
"It's perfect," Trixie cried. "Now she'll be away from the house when we go for our ride."
Jim was asleep on the living-room sofa when they got back, but he awoke with a start when Trixie yelled, "Jim, look what we found! A diamond ring!"
He rubbed his eyes dazedly as he stared at the huge stone, and then he carefully examined the inside of the gold band. "It belonged to my great-aunt, all right," he said. "See, here are the initials and what was probably the date of their wedding. I hate the thought of selling it, but it'll keep me for a long time, in case I don't get a job right away." He grinned up at Trixie. "Well, you win. You did find some hidden treasure, after all."
"It was really Honey who found it," Trixie said generously. "It was her idea that there might be a wall safe behind that old painting."
Honey flushed with pleasure as Jim smiled his thanks. "This is one thing Jonesy won't get his greedy hands on," he said determinedly. "He can do what he likes with the money he gets from the sale of the property, but this belongs to me."
"I don't think he'll be allowed to touch that money," Trixie objected. "Not unless he can prove that he's supporting you."
Jim shook his head. "He'll get around that somehow. You don't know Jonesy."
Trixie and Honey fixed a delicious supper of frankfurters, rolls, salad, and chocolate milk shakes. It was almost nine o'clock when they finished talking, eating, and washing the dishes.
"You stay here, Reddy," Trixie said as she held the screen door open for the others. "Take good care of the house."
Reddy looked depressed but obediently lay down on the kitchen floor with his nose between his paws. Trixie laughed as she let the screen door slam behind her. "That dog's so friendly he'd probably lead a burglar right to Mother's silver chest and help him cart it away."
"He certainly made friends with that photographer quickly," Honey said and then bit her lip as Jim asked, "What photographer?"
"Oh, nothing," Trixie said, trying to make her voice sound casual. "There was one up at the Mansion this afternoon, but he didn't stay long."
They were halfway across the lawn when Reddy, pushing open the catch on the screen door with his nose, came bounding after them.
"Oh, look at this!" Trixie grabbed at Reddy's collar, but he leaped away and began running around them in circles, pretending that he'd known all along they were just playing a game and had no intention of leaving him behind. "He's a nuisance," she said when Jim finally caught him. "I'll have to lock him in. We can't take him with us. He'd chase everything in the woods and wake the dead with his silly barking."
Jim helped her drag the resisting Reddy back to the house. This time, Trixie locked the door and slipped the key into the pocket of her dungarees. "I hope he doesn't tear up the place out of spite while we're gone," she said. "He's never been left alone before. Mother always takes him with her in the station wagon when she goes shopping." They hurried across the lawn in the bright moonlight and started up the path to the stable. "He's nothing but a big, overgrown puppy," Trixie went on. "We all spoil him, and Bobby-" She stopped, rooted to the spot with horror, for the stillness was suddenly broken by the sound of crashing glass behind them, followed by the cry of an animal in pain.
The Moonlight Ride
"Oh, oh," Honey gasped, "somebody's broken into your house and hurt Reddy."
At first Trixie thought something like that must have happened, and then as she turned she saw with relief that Reddy was bounding across the lawn.
"He must have gone right through a window," she said. "The only ones that aren't screened are the ones in Dad's study overlooking the terrace. He must have gone up there to watch us and then decided to jump out, even though the window was closed." Reddy dashed past them into the woods. "He's probably cut to ribbons."
"Not necessarily," Jim said. "I saw a policeman break through a window once without getting a scratch. Reddy might have broken a leg; but, from the way he's running, I'd say he was okay."
Trixie whistled and called, and finally Reddy came close enough to be caught and dragged back. From the terrace, Trixie pointed up to the shattered remains of the second-story window. "It's lucky our ceilings are so low," she said. "Otherwise he would have been badly hurt. I still can't believe he hasn't a cut, somewhere." Inside the house, they examined him carefully but could not find a scratch. "We'd better put you in the cellar, old man," Jim said patting the dog affectionately. "It's a mean trick, but we won't be gone long."
Reddy was scratching and whining and snuffling on the other side of the door as they l
eft the house for the third time.
"He's some dog," Jim said. "As soon as I get settled somewhere, I mean to get a pointer or a setter. You've never gone shooting with Reddy, have you, Trixie?"
"Brian and Mart do, sometimes," she told him. "But he isn't much good. Dad says we all tried to train him at once and that's what ruined him. Brian taught him to heel, Mart taught him to retrieve, and I taught him to come when called." She giggled. "You can see how well he obeys me, so you can imagine how good he is in other ways."
Regan was waiting for them with the three saddled horses. "I was just about to come down after you," he said. "Thought I heard the sound of breaking glass, but then I saw you coming across the lawn and figured you were okay."
He greeted Jim with a friendly, "Hi, youngster," just as though there was nothing unusual about his appearing with the girls. "Take good care of Jupe, won't you?!
"Yes, sir," Jim said. "It was swell of you to let me have one last ride on him."
"Going someplace soon?" Regan inquired as they mounted their horses.
"That's right." Jim rode off without another word. In the woods it was cool and quiet except for the occasional who, who-who, whooo of an owl. Every now and then, they heard the bark of a fox off in the distance and the scurrying of small feet on the path ahead of them.
"This is heavenly," Honey sighed. "I thought I was going to be scared in the woods at night, but I'm not. It's much more fun and so much cooler than riding in the daytime."
Dad used to take me on moonlight rides when I was just a kid," Jim told them. "Once I fell asleep on the way back, and he had to carry me on his saddle and lead my horse as well. Then, just as we got home, I woke up and yelled like anything because I'd missed so much fun." He chuckled. "Dad teased me about that for a long time."
The Secret of the Mansion Page 13