“Oh!” Laura Ramsey’s gasp drew everyone’s attention.
“I’m not saying that’s likely,” McGraw said gruffly, “but it’s a possibility. I have to check out every angle right now, if only to throw out the wrong ones.”
“I—I understand,” Laura said bravely.
The detective stood up and picked up his suit coat. He hooked one finger under the collar and flung the coat over his shoulder. “I’ll be in touch,” he said. Then he turned and left.
“Very businesslike,” Mr. Lytell said, giving the detective his highest praise. “Too expensive, though. Guess I’ll be going.” The storekeeper nodded at the others and left the room.
Laura Ramsey stood up. “I think I’ll go to my room for a while,” she said.
Jim nodded his understanding, and Honey asked her if she wanted anything. Laura shook her head and left the room quickly. Jim followed her out the door.
“Let’s go to my room and start working on our assignments right away,” Honey said.
Trixie nodded. “I hope we do a better job with them than we did of finding the wallet,” she said unhappily.
“There were a lot of things we didn’t think of,” Honey admitted. “But at least we found it—and found it soon after it was lost. I’m sure that’s a big help right there, Trix.”
“That’s true,” Trixie said, brightening. She stood up. “Let’s get to work.”
Honey took two legal pads of lined, yellow paper and two pencils from the drawer of the desk in the library. She and Trixie went upstairs, and she handed Trixie one pad and pencil and kept the others. “Let’s do the depositions first,” she said. “I think we should each do ours separately, then compare them to see if we missed anything.”
“All right,” Trixie agreed. She sat down on one of the twin beds in Honey’s room. She wrinkled her forehead and chewed on the eraser end of the pencil for a moment, wondering where to begin. “Begin at the beginning,” she muttered to herself finally, and she started to write.
After a couple of paragraphs, she hesitated. “Do you think it’s all right to put in the part about Mr. Lytell’s loan? It’s supposed to be a secret.”
Honey looked up and frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, it is supposed to be a secret, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to keep the secret, once the case goes to court. Still, if we write it down now, Mr. McGraw will know the secret as soon as he reads the depositions.”
“Let’s just leave it out for now,” Trixie said. “After all, it didn’t have anything to do with the mystery. Besides, the reason Mr. McGraw asked us to write everything down now was so that we wouldn’t forget anything. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way I felt when Mr. Lytell came out of that back room holding two thousand dollars in cash!”
“Oh, Trixie, I won’t, either,” Honey said breathlessly. “Would you ever have imagined, in your wildest dreams, that Mr. Lytell would have that much cash?”
“I wouldn’t have before yesterday noon,” she said. She repeated to Honey the rumors her mother had told her.
“Mr. Lytell!” Honey exclaimed disbelievingly. “You don’t think he has as much money as my father or Mr. Lynch, do you?”
Trixie thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe Moms heard those rumors before you came to Sleepyside. Mr. Lynch hasn’t always been rich, either. Still, if Mr. Lytell had two thousand dollars in cash stashed in the back room of his store, imagine how much more he must have in the bank!”
“He might not have anything in the bank,” Honey said.
“Do you mean you believed him when he said he had nothing left to beg, borrow, or steal?” Trixie asked.
“No-o-o,” Honey told her hesitantly. “But remember how Miss Trask’s brother kept his every cent hidden behind that pirate picture? All Mr. Lytell’s money might be in that back room.”
“It’s a possibility,” Trixie agreed. “Mr. Lytell is strange enough to do something like that. It would be foolish, though. That old store, miles from anywhere, is a bad place to keep a lot of money.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that,” Honey said. “You know he wouldn’t listen to us if we told him to put his money in a bank. So I think it’s even more important that we leave the part about the loan out of our depositions for now. We can do that much to protect Mr. Lytell’s money.”
“Right,” Trixie agreed. She lowered her eyes to her paper and once again began to write. Before she knew it, she had filled four sheets of paper.
“Done!” she exclaimed, crossing a final t with a flourish.
“I am, too,” Honey said. “Let’s compare.”
The girls traded papers and read one another’s statements. Trixie began to giggle. “They’re almost the same, word for word, Honey. Brian and Mart are right. We do spend too much time together.”
“Not too much,” Honey said, smiling. “Just enough.”
Trixie looked at her best friend gratefully. This, she knew, was Honey’s way of telling her that nothing, including a beautiful, wealthy houseguest, could come between the two best friends.
“I have an idea,” Trixie said impulsively. “I got it from reading Snow White last night.”
“Don’t you think you’re a little old for that kind of thing?” Honey teased.
Trixie giggled. “Sometimes I wonder. Most of the time, I seem to get more out of those stories than Bobby does. Anyway, when I was reading the story of Snow White to Bobby last night, he said the seven dwarfs and the seven Bob-Whites were kind of alike, you know, because there are the same number and because we both—I mean, we all—like helping people.”
“That’s pretty smart!” Honey exclaimed. Because she had no younger brothers or sisters of her own, Honey doted on Bobby Belden, showing more patience and, sometimes, more affection than his real siblings.
“Isn’t it?” Trixie replied. “Well, I was thinking about how the Bob-Whites are helping Laura Ramsey, just as the seven dwarfs helped Snow White. Then I realized that most of the other Bob-Whites haven’t met her. I think we ought to arrange an introduction.”
“A party, you mean!” Honey exclaimed. “Oh, Trixie, that’s a perfectly perfect idea. Laura will feel better, I’m sure, if she knows how many of us there are to care about her and help her. And a party is just the thing to cheer her up. What kind of party shall we have?”
“When it’s August and we’ve been in the midst of a heat wave for over a week, there’s only one answer that I can think of to that question,” Trixie said.
“Of course!” Honey exclaimed, reading her friend’s mind. “A swimming party at the boathouse. And a picnic lunch afterward. Sunday afternoon?”
Trixie nodded. “That sounds fine. Now, let’s get that map.”
A Spy! ● 6
ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Trixie, Brian, and Mart piled into Brian’s jalopy for the ride to the boathouse. It was within easy biking distance, but, in addition to their swimsuits and towels, the three Bob-Whites were burdened with a large picnic basket supplied and filled by Mrs. Belden.
“Miss Trask told Honey she’d have Cook pack us a lunch,” Trixie had told her mother that morning.
“Miss Trask is very generous,” Mrs. Belden had said. “But I think she supplies the lunch for the Bob-White picnics far too often. It’s high time I took my turn. Besides,” she had added with a smile, “the more, of these tomatoes and cucumbers I give away, the fewer I’ll have to can and pickle.”
“In that case,” Trixie had said, “put in a lot more of each.” Canning was never her favorite activity, and the current soaring temperatures made the thought of standing over the steaming jars even less attractive than usual.
When the Beldens arrived at the boathouse, the other Bob-Whites and Laura were already there. Jim, Honey, and Laura, in fact, were already in the water. Trixie ran ahead, calling hellos to Dan Mangan and Di Lynch, whom she hadn’t seen for several days, while Brian, with an exaggerated groan, hoisted the heavy picnic basket out of the car.
“How have you two been?” Trixie asked, plopping down on the ground between Dan and Di.
“Hot,” Di Lynch said, gathering her shoulder-length black hair in one hand and pulling it up off her neck to emphasize her statement. With her violet eyes, fringed by thick, curly lashes, and her slender figure, Di Lynch was the prettiest of the Bob-Whites—the prettiest girl at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School, in fact. But she, like Trixie, was not partial to hot weather. Her face looked slightly drawn, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well.
“All I want to do when it’s this hot is to stay inside and not move any more than I can help,” Di continued. “Unfortunately, the hot weather doesn’t slow the twins down one little bit.”
Trixie smiled sympathetically. Di had a set of twin brothers and a set of twin sisters. She was fond of them, and she earned her contributions to the Bob-White treasury by taking care of them for her parents. But sometimes, as now, that wasn’t an easy job.
“How about you, Dan?” Trixie asked. “Why haven’t we seen you lately?”
Dan turned his thin, dark face toward Trixie. There was a hint of worry in his black eyes. “I’ve been working overtime for Mr. Maypenny,” he said. “All this hot, dry weather has created a fire hazard. We’re doing twice as much patrolling as usual, checking for fires. After riding around in the preserve all day in the heat, I don’t feel very sociable.”
“Oh, Dan, I hadn’t even thought about what the weather might be doing to the preserve. Is it really getting dangerous?”
Dan Mangan shrugged. “Mr. Maypenny doesn’t seem overly concerned. But then, he never does. All we can do is patrol carefully and hope for the best.”
Trixie nodded without speaking. Part of her was worrying about the possibility of a fire that would devastate the preserve and the animals in it. But another part was feeling very proud of Dan Mangan. This responsible, hardworking boy was very different from the tough city kid who had come to Sleepyside not so long ago. She was glad that she’d had a part in helping him to find himself.
Brian and Mart had gone directly into the boathouse to change into their swimsuits, and they came running to the water just as Honey waded out. “Hi, Trix!” she called, grabbing a towel and rubbing herself dry as she walked to the group seated on the shore. “Isn’t it great that we’re all together again? It seems like ages!”
“Mm-hmm,” Trixie agreed absently. She was staring out at the lake, where her attention had been captured by the sight of Jim and Laura engaged in a friendly water fight.
Honey, following her friend’s gaze, said, “This party of yours was a wonderful idea, Trixie. Laura was thrilled at the idea of going for a swim. It was lucky that one of Mother’s swimsuits fit her. I think this party was just what Laura needed to take her mind off her troubles.”
Trixie understood the tactful message behind Honey’s words. Laura Ramsey was in serious trouble, and the Bob-Whites were pledged to helping her. Being jealous wouldn’t help anyone. Trixie squeezed Honey’s hand gratefully and stood up. “Me for a swim,” she said, heading toward the boathouse to change.
“I’m ready, too,” Di said. “When I first got here, I felt too hot and limp to move, even into the nice, cool water!”
Trixie and Di changed hurriedly and ran toward the little lake. The coolness of the water was a pleasure in the midday heat. Trixie stood stock-still in ^nee-deep water, just savoring it before she waded farther in.
“Come on in, Trixie,” Jim called. “The water’s fine.”
“Yep, and I’m going to inch my way into deeper water to make it last as long as I can—like Bobby does when he licks an ice-cream cone.” Trixie spoke saucily, trying to overcome the hurt she still felt.
“Bobby can’t do that when Reddy is around,” Jim retorted with a sly look, “or Reddy finishes the cone quick. Woof! Woof!” With his imitation of the Beldens’ lovable, but unmanageable Irish setter, Jim lowered his hands into the water and brought them up fast, dousing Trixie thoroughly.
“I’ll get you for that!” Trixie shouted, plunging forward into the lake as Jim retreated as fast as he could against the resisting water.
Brian and Laura joined in the water fight immediately, and Mart drew Di Lynch into it, too. In a moment, Dan Mangan leaped up from his place on the shore and ran out to join in the fun. Honey, coming out of the boathouse, where she had gone to change back into her clothes, stood on the shore and yelled encouragement.
The shouting, laughing, and splashing continued for fifteen minutes. Di Lynch was the first to wade back out of the water, still laughing, but panting with exhaustion. Mart followed, and then Trixie. They threw themselves onto the towels that were spread out on the beach and gasped for breath. Brian, Dan, Jim, and Laura soon followed.
“That was fun!” Trixie breathed.
“I heartily concur,” Mart added. “Superior divertissement.”
“A great way to work up an appetite, too,” Jim said.
“That sounds to me like a hint,” Honey said. “I’ll start laying the food out while the rest of you get your breath and change your clothes.” She stood up and walked to the picnic table.
Soon the whole group was seated around the table, passing seemingly endless bowls and plates of food.
“I thought Moms told Miss Trask that she was supplying the picnic basket today,” Trixie said, looking at the heaps of food on her plate and then at the food still heaped in the serving dishes on the table.
“She did,” Honey said with a giggle. “But you know Miss Trask. She always wants to do ‘her share.’ ”
“As I recall,” Jim added, helping himself to more potato salad, “Miss Trask said, ‘It’s very nice of Mrs. Belden to supply the food for the picnic. I’ll just have Celia prepare a few appetizers to add to it.’ ”
“There’s enough here to feed all of Sleepyside, I think,” Trixie declared.
“It’s all wonderful, too,” Laura Ramsey said. “Especially all these fresh vegetables. They’re hard to come by in New York.”
“New York is an exciting city, but I think I like Sleepyside better,” Brian observed.
“I don’t blame you. You have such a wonderful life here,” Laura told him.
“You must have a wonderful life in the city, though,” Di Lynch said. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
Laura smiled understandingly. “It has been wonderful,” she said. “And it will be again, as soon as my father is found.”
“Do you work in the city?” Di asked, anxious to take everyone’s mind off her tactless remark.
“I’m in college,” Laura told her. “I major in English at Columbia University. My father wanted—wants—me to major in business, but I’m afraid I don’t have much of a talent for it. I love to read, though.”
“I wish I did,” Di said ruefully. Her grades were always a source of worry to herself and to her parents.
“Maybe this year we’ll have a perfectly perfect English teacher who’ll make all of us better readers,” Honey said hopefully.
“I wish I had a good book here right now,” Brian said. “I’m much too stuffed to move. Lying in the shade with something to read would be just the thing.”
“Lying in the shade without a book would do just fine for me,” Di said.
“After we get the table cleared,” Honey put in sternly. “Then you can lie in the shade for as long as you want to.”
“Slave driver!” Mart complained. “ ‘O! that we now had here but one ten thousand of those men in England that do no work today.’ ”
Laura Ramsey laughed. “You’re the only teenager I’ve ever met who always sounds like a poet, Mart.”
Mart Belden blushed at the praise from Laura, looking even more like Trixie’s almost-twin as he did so. “If I sounded like a poet just then, it was because I was quoting one—Shakespeare.”
“Ah,” Laura breathed. “Not just a poet—the best of poets!”
“Indubitably,” Mart said, rising from the table
with a bowl in either hand and carrying them to the picnic basket.
Laura rose, too, and started to gather plates together.
“Uh-uh,” Jim said to her. “You’re the guest of honor at this party. You shouldn’t have to help clear the table.”
Laura flashed him a smile. “I don’t mind. Besides, I can use the exercise, after having so much to eat.”
“If it’s exercise you want, how about a stroll around the lake?” Jim asked.
Laura smiled again. “Sounds even better.”
Jim and Laura walked off together, while Trixie glared at their retreating backs. “She doesn’t have to help because she’s the guest of honor, but what’s his excuse?” she said angrily.
“He’s one of the hosts,” Honey said defensively. “He wants to make the guest of honor happy.”
“She looked pretty happy while we were swimming. All through lunch, too, she looked as though she hadn’t a care in the world.”
“She’s being very brave,” Di Lynch said.
“Or very phony,” Trixie muttered.
“Trixie Belden!” Honey said reproachfully. “Don’t tell me you’re going to let jealousy get the best of you, after all!”
Trixie sighed. “No, I’m not. Laura Ramsey is a wonderful person. She’s hiding her broken heart beneath a cheerful exterior. She needs every bit of help we can give her.” Trixie spoke as if reciting from memory. “But just tell me this: How come an English major from Columbia University doesn’t recognize Shakespeare when she hears it?”
“Oh, Trixie!” Honey groaned impatiently. “Laura didn’t say she didn’t recognize it.”
“But she didn’t,” Trixie countered stubbornly. “Well, nobody can be familiar with every single word written by every single author,” Honey responded.
“That means you don’t really think she recognized the line, either,” Trixie pointed out.
Honey shrugged. “No, I guess I don’t think she did. But I don’t think it proves anything, either.” She gave the lid of the pickle jar she was closing an extra twist for emphasis.
The Mystery of the Millionaire Page 6