"You're kidding!" I cried, as Honey's face paled and she sunk quickly on to the bed.

"He's right," Jim told me soberly.  "It's not where we left it."

"Are you sure?" I demanded.  "No one put it away for safe keeping?"

I stared at Mart, Jim and Honey and they all shook their heads in silence.

"Trixie was right," Honey wailed.  "Dick must have stolen it!"

"How do you figure that?" Jim asked her. 

"Well, Regan said he came back and polished the car while Miss Trask was in the village shopping," Honey offered and looked to me for support.  "That would have given him the perfect opportunity to take it."

No one spoke for a moment and I sighed in relief as I heard Trixie approach.  I needed more time to think this through.

"Don't tell her," Mart said sadly. "Let her find it out for herself. The girl sleuth needs practice."

"What's eating all of you?" Trixie demanded. "Let's go swimming."

"Oh, Trixie," Honey cried. "Just look around the room. Something's missing."

Trixie's round, blue eyes traveled at once to Honey's dressing table. "This is too much," she moaned, sinking down on the rug at Mart's feet. "Bobby must have told Dick about the room-switching. He helped you move, remember?"

Jim nodded. "And Bobby also knew that we didn't move what he called the 'boxlike thing.' He tried to carry it into my old room several times, but we told him firmly that it must stay in here. That's when he discovered the secret compartment, I guess, and put the diamond inside it."

"Well, anyway," Trixie said, "at last you agree with me that Dick is Suspect Number One. And we still have the diamond. But what kind of a trap can we set now?"

Jim shook his head. "We can't be sure that Dick is Suspect Number One, Trixie. Not yet. When Bobby acquires a bit of information he generally spreads it around fast. He could have told any number of people by now that Honey and I switched rooms."

"I hope you didn't tell him it was a 'see-crud,'" Trixie said forlornly. "If you did, you might just as well have printed the news on the front page of the Sun."

"I did tell him it was a secret," Honey admitted miserably. "It was awfully dumb of me."

Mart rubbed his face to hide his exasperation.  We knew Bobby too well.  I smiled sympathetically at Honey and slowly, gently placed my hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"It doesn't make any difference," Trixie said, trying to cheer her up. "Bobby would have told the world about it, anyway. The point is that our prowler must have made up his mind that it would be too risky," she went on, "to try and get the diamond while Jim was sleeping in this room. It would be less of a risk to try and steal the box during the day."

Mart looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and I quickly withdrew my hand, but not before Honey gave me a grateful smile.  I smiled smugly back at Mart.

"That's right," Honey agreed. "And today is the day. Winnie, the laundress, always leaves before noon. Helen had the afternoon off, so she left right after that. Marjorie got off early because she worked late last night. Once Nailor leaves the house in the morning, he never comes back except for meals. Celia and the cook have been busy preparing lunch for the past hour. Miss Trask has been in the kitchen putting away the stuff she bought ever since she came back from the village."

Honey shrugged. "The whole upstairs has been empty ever since about eleven-thirty. Anyone could have sneaked in through one of the side doors, walked calmly up here, and walked out again with my jewelry box while we were out riding."

"Not anyone," Trixie pointed put. "How about Patch?"

"His barking in the daytime," Jim said, "doesn't mean a thing. I've got to start training him soon. He barks at the milkman, the bakery truck, the garbage collectors, any­thing that appears with four wheels."

"If you don't train him soon," Trixie said with a giggle, "he'll be just another Reddy. He's hopeless." She scrambled to her feet. "If anyone has your box, Honey, it's Dick. And it won't take him long to find the secret compartment. What'll he do when he realizes that he went to all that trouble for an antique jewelry box and some costume jewelry?"

"I don't know," Honey said with a sigh. "I've just about decided to become a dress designer instead of a detective. What will he do, Jim?"

A dress designer?  Somehow I could imagine that.  Madeleine Wheeler: sophisticated, beautiful and the center of attention for thousands of males.  Hmmm...  maybe I don't want to imagine that.

"What will who do?" Jim asked.

"Who do, voodoo," Mart said, waving his hands. "Mumbo-jumbo. Now you see it, and now you don't. What he'll do, of course, is sneak the box back into the house the first chance he gets. If it was Dick who swiped it," he added. "He certainly can't risk keeping a feminine object like that in his room over the garage for very long. If a tramp swiped it, he'll hack it to pieces and leave the wreckage in the woods."

"I keep telling you," Trixie said crossly, "that a tramp couldn't have swiped it. He might have been hiding in the thicket and heard Honey tell me that she put the diamond in her jewelry box, but he still had no way of knowing which room was Honey's. Even with a floor plan, it would have taken him too long to open all the doors on this floor and peek into every room. Someone downstairs would have heard him."

"That's true," I said thoughtfully, turning my attention back to the problem at hand. "The finger of suspicion does begin to point toward Dick."

"Begin to?" Trixie sniffed. "It has always pointed to him. If the jewelry box suddenly shows up again, will you believe me?"

"I'll have to," Jim said reluctantly. "Nobody else except Nailor would dare risk being caught on this floor. And Nailor is above suspicion."

"Are you sure of that, Jim?" I asked with mock seriousness. "What I mean is, maybe Nailor isn't Nailor, but someone else masquerading as him."

Mart howled with laughter. "No matter how you tried you couldn't turn yourself into a giant peanut. Only age and too much work in the hot sun can do that."

"Come on, let's go swimming," Trixie said. "We'll be late for lunch, anyway; but maybe we can jump in and out of the cold water and dress quickly enough so we won't get a bawling out."

Now that was a good idea!  I was just about to follow them when Jim spoke.

"You girls go ahead," Jim said. "We haven't any too much time. We'll just hurry and wash up a bit."

Honey and Trixie raced out of the room and I glared at Jim.  He half-smiled at me in understanding before he continued.

"So what do you think?" He asked.  "Do you think Dick's our man?"

"Indubitably!" Mart declared.  "Who else could it be?"

"Well, I won't be totally convinced until I've checked that letter," Jim replied stubbornly, then smiled at me.  "I had to get the girls out of the way so we could investigate without them knowing.  Trixie would never let me hear the end of it, if I admitted she could be right."

"I see you're well acquainted with the temperament of our Beatrix," Mart laughed and I joined in, although still sorry of missing a chance to go swimming with Honey. 

"Lead the way," I told Jim.

We followed him to Mr Wheeler's study and Jim located the letter of reference easily, still lying in the pigeonhole.  He picked it up and we stared over his shoulder.

"Wow!" I breathed.  "She was right.  I can't believe it."

Mart whistled softly and Jim was silent, his face grim.

"What are we going to do?" Mart asked.  "Are you going to call Mr Wheeler?"

"And tell him what?" Jim replied slowly.  "That we looked at the letter, saw some smudges and think that makes Dick a forger and a thief?  We still haven't got any real evidence that he stole the diamond."

"You're right," I acknowledged.  "But how are we going to get that?"

"I don't know... yet," Jim answered, and placed the letter back in the pigeonhole.  "But we'd better meet the girls for lunch before they come back and get suspicious.  Let's just keep this to ourselves until we figure out a plan."

Mart and I nodded soberly and followed Jim out of the study and down to the dining room.

We sat down at the table just before Honey and Trixie entered with Miss Trask.  I couldn't help but stare.  Both girls were dressed in playsuits that showed off their tans and Honey had tucked her slightly damp hair behind her ears.   She smiled shyly at me as she entered and I quickly averted my eyes. 

"My, you girls look hot!" she said, smiling. "I really think you look hotter than I feel. It was simply broiling in the village this morning. Are you sure you all want to go to the movies this evening?"

"Oh, yes," Honey said. "The Cameo is air-conditioned."

"In that case," Miss Trask said emphatically, "I'll go with you. We'll all pile into the station wagon. Dick has done a lot of driving today, and the heat hasn't helped his poison ivy rash any. It would do him good to stay quietly in the suite over the garage and watch the wrestling matches with Regan."

Trixie and Honey exchanged a knowing glance and I wondered what they were keeping to themselves.

Jim sighed. "I guess I won't get a driving lesson. Not until the heat wave breaks."

"Oh, no," Miss Trask said as she served the ice-cold shrimp salad. "Dick doesn't want to postpone that, Jim. I tried to persuade him to let it go for another day, but he said he'd be all ready for you in the Ford around five. That reminds me," she went on, turning to Honey. "We should go to the early show. Otherwise, you children won't be in bed until midnight. That means we'd better have a light supper at six-thirty, so we can leave at seven-fifteen."

"It would be nice if we could," Honey said. "Will Celia and the cook object?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Miss Trask said. "They're both worn out. This hot, humid weather is exhausting. I'm sure they'd be delighted to retire to their air-conditioned rooms on the third floor."

"I'd like to retire there right now," Mart said with a chuckle. "How come the third floor has air-conditioning, but the rest of the house hasn't? Not that it's any of my business."

Miss Trask smiled at him. "Another simple explanation, Mart. The nearer the roof you get, the hotter it is. The whole house is insulated, of course, but we found that during July and August the rooms on the third floor were too hot for comfort. So Mr Wheeler had them air-conditioned."

"I think I'll resign as farmer," Mart said, grinning, "and take on the job of chef. Home was never like the cook's quarters here."

Miss Trask looked puzzled, and Honey quickly explained about the clubhouse and how they all wanted to earn the money so they could make the necessary repairs.

"This," Miss Trask said, "is the nicest thing that ever happened to me. If you boys take over the lawns and the vegetable garden, I know Nailor will never leave us." She sighed. "He complained so much about the heat this morn­ing while he was mowing that I had to give him the rest of the weekend off. He left with Helen and won't be back until Monday morning although his work isn't half-finished." She turned to Honey. "And as for you, my dear, isn't it wonderful that you're going to have a chance to earn some money? I know how you've envied Trixie her job."

Honey smiled happily and it made her even prettier. "I've been green with envy ever since I've known her. And to think, Miss Trask, I'm to get fifty cents an hour from Mr. Belden just for mending. Why, if there's enough to do, I could make five dollars a week, too!"

"Don't worry about the amount," Trixie said, giggling. "There's always a huge basketful at our house. Bobby never ties his shoelaces, so there are never any heels in his socks. You all know about his shoulder straps, and you've seen the knee-patches on the jeans Brian, Mart, and I wear."

"Next to darning," Honey said dreamily, "I love patching the best."

There were real girls out there!  Where has she been all of my life?  A smile spread across my face and I struggled to cover it.

"It's nice," I said to Miss Trask, "to know a girl who likes to do girlish things. Our sister must have been frightened by a darning needle in the cradle."

Celia came in then to clear the table for dessert and Trixie glared at me. "Says you! I love darning needles when they're dragonflies. My first pet was one, and after that I collected walking sticks. They're the cutest bugs ever, except for the praying mantis."

"I hate bugs," Honey said. "No, I don't mean that. I'm just a sissy. I'm scared of them. I'm even scared of Bobby's leopard frogs, although they are pretty."

You're not sissy, I wanted to tell her.  You're just feminine and I really like that.

"Most girls," Mart said, "are afraid of bugs. It's the normal thing to expect, and more fun. Trix is no fun at all. I tried to scare her with a garter snake when she was Bobby's age, but she made a pet out of it and sicked it on me."

"That's not true," Trixie stormed. "It was a great big, black snake. And I never sicked it on you. You teased it until it finally chased you into the pond."

Celia, by this time, was laughing so hard she had to set her tray down on the table for a minute. "Honest-to-good-ness, Miss Trask," she said, "these Beldens will be the death of me. That Bobby! When he helped Jim and Honey move, he got everything mixed up. When I dusted Jim's room this morning, I found Honey's dainty little jewelry box on her dressing table. It looked so silly sitting there in the middle of Jim's fishing tackle, I took it right across the hall and put it on the bureau in his old room." Still shaking with laughter, she picked up the tray and went through the swinging door into the butler's pantry.

No one said anything for a long minute as we took in what Celia had just said. It was Mart who finally broke the silence. He cleared his throat and said, "That was the best shrimp salad I ever tasted, Miss Trask. Could we have it again for supper this evening?"

Trust Mart to turn the conversation to food!  But the idea was well received.  I shot Jim a glance, but he was frowning at his hands.

"That's a wonderful idea, Mart," she cried. "Why don't we just have a pot-luck supper this evening and give Celia and the cook the whole afternoon off? We can raid the icebox and finish up all the leftovers."

"I love leftovers," Honey cried. "No matter what it is, I always think it tastes better the next day, but our cooks almost never let us have delicious things like the Beldens do. They have warmed-up stews and fried macaroni-and-cheese and chocolate bread puddings."

Celia appeared then with strawberry sherbet in strawberry-shaped crystal dishes.

Mart glared at Honey. "Don't mention bread pudding in the presence of that divine-looking ambrosia." He kicked Trixie under the table. "Our frail, feminine sister is especially fond of strawberries. In any shape or form, she adores them. Even when they're stuffed with rocks, she finds them delicious."

Celia giggled. "You mean seeds, Mart, not rocks."

"In Alaska," Mart told her, "which is the land of the midnight sun, practically, strawberries grow to giant size. The seeds must grow, too."

"Oh, stop it, Mart," Trixie said, kicking him under the table. "We'll all catch pneumonia if we even think about Alaska in this weather."

"If you had my superior education," Mart said, "you would know that Alaska is the hottest place in the world, practically, during its short summer. Why, the mosquitoes get so big they steal children Bobby's age right off the door­steps." He turned to me. "Next time I'm a junior counselor I must remember to import mosquitoes from Alaska."

I rolled my eyes in response and Honey giggled.  I made her do that!  Gee, she's got a pretty smile.

"You'll never get another chance at a job like that," Trixie informed him briskly, "not unless you stop exaggerating. I studied about Alaska in school, too, Mart; and the mosquitoes do not grow quite to the size of eagles."

Miss Trask laughed. "But they are a problem. One has to wear special head-nets and gloves for protection against Alaskan mosquitoes." She turned to Celia. "We've decided to raid the icebox this evening, so you and Cook won't have to fix our supper. Why don't you fill the gallon Thermos jug with iced tea and make a big platter of sandwiches for Regan and Dick? Then they can eat whenever they want to."

"Thank you very much, Miss Trask," Celia said gratefully. "It's so hot! Cook and I were just saying we'd like nothing better than to spend the afternoon and evening in our cool sitting room listening to the radio."

"Then do just that, by all means," Miss Trask said. "I'm going to take the children to the early show at the Cameo. When you see Dick, you might tell him that, except for Jim's driving lesson, he can spend the rest of the day trying to keep cool, too."

I glanced over at Jim again, who this time met my eyes and gave me a small nod.  He was planning something, I just had to find out what.

"He'll like that," Celia said. "It's not my place to say this, Miss Trask, but Dick is not like Regan. Not at all like Regan."

"Were you the one who sent him to us, Celia?" Honey asked suddenly. "Remember? On Wednesday you said you'd ask around in the village and try to find someone who wanted a job as a chauffeur."

Celia patted her dainty ruffled cap. "I did ask around all that afternoon. I asked everyone. And I found just the man for you; but when I came back to work, I found that Dick had already got the job." She disappeared through the swinging door.

Mart winked at me. "I can guess who, or should I say whom, Celia had in mind, can't you?"

I chuckled as I realized who Mart was suggesting. "Tom Delanoy, of course."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Trixie groaned. "I should have thought of him myself."

"And who," Miss Trask asked, "is Tom Delanoy?"

"Regan's twin," Mart said promptly. "Except that he's got black hair and blue eyes. And he likes both cars and horses, not to mention kids of all ages. He's a natural for the chauffeuring job here, Miss Trask. He'll shovel the driveway and the paths in the winter and help with the transplanting in the spring. He's handy with a paint brash, too. There isn't anything Tom can't or won't do."

"My goodness," Miss Trask cried. "He sounds perfect, or should I say super? How does one interview him? I have a feeling Dick isn't going to like it here when the snow flies."

"Tom," I told her, "taught Mart and me how to shoot and fish. He's about Regan's age and has had all kinds of jobs. He's ready to settle down now; I think he'd like the chauffeur's job here."

"If I were you," Mart said to Miss Trask, "I'd interview Tom right away. / have a feeling Dick isn't going to like it here after the first leaves fall."

Miss Trask wrung her hands nervously. "But where is Tom now, Mart? How can I get in touch with him?"

"That I don't know," Mart admitted. "Have you any idea what Tom is doing at the moment, Trix?"

Trixie sighed. "It's all too, too uncanny. He's collecting tickets at the Cameo. Miss Trask can talk to him this evening."

"Oh, that Tom," Jim cried, jolted from his thoughts. "He's a swell guy, Miss Trask. I've run into him in the village often, and we've had long talks. He was the one who recommended the book on pointers I sent away for. I never knew his last name. Never asked him what it was."

"He is nice," Honey said. "I don't know him as well as you do, Jim; but one afternoon when I went in to the movies by myself in a taxi, I found I'd forgotten to bring any money. Tom lent me some so I could pay the cab and buy a ticket."

Tom knows a pretty girl when he sees one!  I thought in amusement as we stood up.

"I remember that time," Miss Trask said, smiling. "I hope you remembered to pay him back, Honey."

"Oh, I did," Honey said as we all trooped out to the porch. "Please talk to him tonight, Miss Trask. If he likes cars and horses, he can't like his job at the Cameo. And Dick—well, he's all right, I guess—but he is rude to Trixie."

Miss Trask's crisp gray eyebrows shot up with surprise as Trixie squirmed uncomfortably. "Rude to Trixie? Honey, why didn't you tell me that be­fore?"

"It doesn't matter at all, Miss Trask," Trixie said hastily. "I made fun of him, first. I didn't realize he was just kidding me when he said Jupe kicked him."

Miss Trask sank down in a wicker rocking chair. "What are you talking about? When was Jupiter supposed to have kicked Dick?"

"The black eye," Trixie explained. "That's how he got it. At least, that's what Dick told me."

Miss Trask frowned thoughtfully. "That isn't what he told me. He said he woke in the night when it was pitch black and, not being used to his new room, stumbled, and banged his head against the door which leads into the sitting room. I thought you must have awakened him, Trixie, when you screamed during your nightmare."

Trixie grinned. "I probably did, so that makes us all even. He was rude to me, but, indirectly, I gave him a black eye."

Miss Trask's blue eyes twinkled. "But he mustn't be rude to you, Trixie. I'll speak to him about it."

She rocked back and forth. "I'm quite sure Dick was speaking the truth when he said he stumbled and fell Thursday night. You know, Trixie, that the windows of my room face the garage. After we'd gone back to bed and while the old clock was still striking midnight, I heard thumps and bangs. At the time, I thought they had been made by Patch on the porch. He is as restless as we are on hot nights. But when Dick told me how he got his black eye, I realized that it must have been he, falling in the darkness."

We said nothing, but Trixie looked thoughtful.  I wondered if the noise Miss Trask had heard was Dick's fight with his accomplice.

"Shall we get started on Bobby's scooter?" Jim suggested quickly.  "What are you girls up to?"

"We're going to finish straightening up Honey's room," Trixie declared.  "Maybe we can meet for another swim when you're done?"

"Great idea!" I cried and ignored Mart's smirk as we wandered over to the garage to start work.

"So what's the plan?" Mart demanded of Jim as soon as we were out of earshot of Miss Trask and the girls.  "I could see the cogs working overtime during lunch."

"Well..." Jim began slowly.  "I've got a driving lesson with Dick in a few hours.  I'm just going to have to find away of getting the truth out of him."

"And then what?" I demanded skeptically.  "March him to the police station and get him to turn himself in?"

Jim sighed in frustration.  "I guess it's not that easy, but maybe I'll be able to find out enough from him that we can present the evidence to the police with the diamond."

"How?"

"I don't know...  ask him how well he knows Mr Whitney.  Try to get him to let something slip."

We were almost at the garage where Dick was supposedly resting.  I raised a finger to my lips and nodded towards it.  Jim nodded slightly and changed the subject.

"So what do you guys do for kicks around here, anyway?"

"I wish I had one of these when I was a kid," Mart cried as he tested Bobby's scooter along the driveway.  "This is great!"

"You did have one," I told him dryly.  "You left it behind Dad's car and he ran over it, remember?"

Mart laughed ruefully and pulled to a stop in front of them.

"My Dad made me one like this when I was a kid," Jim remembered quietly.  "He let me help him.  I guess that's why I thought about making this one for Bobby."

I looked away, unable to deal with the trace of pain in his voice.  I can't imagine what it would be like to lose my father, and then my mother as well.

"You ready for your driving lesson, Jim?" Dick asked pleasantly, as he appeared from the garage.

I almost jumped at the sound of his voice, but Jim greeted him with an easy smile.

"Sure am," he replied.  "Brian taught me all about shifting gears, so I think I'm looking forward to trying it out for real."

"Great," Dick answered, and then looked over at Mart and I.  "You boys aren't thinking of tagging along, are you?"

"No," I said quickly, as Mart bristled at the tone of his voice.  "We've got some work to do."

"Well, we won't hold you up any longer," Dick replied snidely.  "Let's get started Jim."

Jim nodded, gave us a reassuring glance, and followed Dick to the station wagon.

"I don't like that guy," Mart muttered.

"You and me both," I agreed.  "I just hope Jim knows what he's doing."

"From the sound of things he knows how to take care of himself," Mart remarked.  "Let's get started on this so we can get it finished before we go to the movies."

It was still hot, but the sky was beginning to darken and a slight breeze made things more bearable.  Mowing lawns seemed easy compared to putting up with hundreds of summer camp pre-schoolers.

We had almost finished when Miss Trask came out.

"My, you boys have done a wonderful job," she remarked.  "Would you like some dinner before we head off to the movies?"

I looked over at Mart.

"No thanks, Ma'am," he answered politely.  "Even I'm too hot to eat.  Maybe we can just wait until supper."

"That's a fine idea," she replied.  "Trixie and Honey weren't hungry either, and Dick told me Jim was going to get a haircut and pick up a hotdog in town before the movies."

I frowned in surprise.

"You two make sure you have a swim to cool off before we head off," she advised.  "You've both worked hard this afternoon."

"Thanks Miss Trask," I replied.  "We'll just clean up here and head down to the lake for a quick swim."

She nodded and returned inside.  Mart and I exchanged worried glances.

"Why do you think Jim went into the village, rather than coming back here?" Mart asked as we packed the garden tools away.  "Do you think he's gone to the police?"

"Maybe," I mused with a frown.  "But I thought he would have let us in on whatever happened first."

"I didn't even see Dick come back," Mart added.

"Me either," I replied and felt the worry begin to gnaw.  "I hope Jim's okay."

"I guess we'll find out what happened when we meet him at the Cameo," Mart shrugged.  "Let's go for a swim or we won't have time to change before we have to leave."

Refreshed from our swim and in clean clothes, we met Miss Trask and the girls in the foyer twenty minutes later.  I glanced quickly at Honey and was surprised to find her hazel eyes already on me.  She blushed prettily and looked away.  I suddenly felt hot again.

"I'll drop you young people off at the Cameo, then head over to Mr Lytell's to watch the wrestling," she told us as we headed down to the car.  Mart almost choked in response and I dug him in the ribs with my elbow.

"They've become good friends," Honey whispered to me with a giggle.

"Very good friends, I bet," Mart muttered and the three of us stifled our laughter.

Trixie, however, did not join in the fun.  She looked very pre-occupied and I wondered what was bothering her.

Honey, Mart and I chattered with Miss Trask until she pulled up the curb and let us out in front of the Cameo Theater. "Be good, boys and girls," she said, waving from behind the wheel. "And have fun."

I held open the door for Honey and she smiled her thanks, but Trixie scrambled out of the car and took off at a fast pace.

"Hey!  Where's the fire?" Mart yelled to her as she grabbed Honey's arm and they disappeared into the crowd.

"Great," I muttered.

"I guess there goes your chance to sit next to Honey," Mart laughed and I glared at him.  He sure did have a talent for zooming in on your thoughts and picking the most sensitive issues to tease you about.  Now I know how Trixie feels!

I went to purchase the tickets while Mart looked for the girls.  Thankfully, he had found them by the time I got out of the line.

"I can see them talking to Tom Delanoy," Mart called and we headed over to them.

"Jim was supposed to meet us here at seven-thirty, Tom," Honey was saying.  "Sure he didn't go in ahead of us?"

"Not unless he was wearing a wig," Tom said. "Which I very much doubt in this heat. If you kids are smart, you'll go in and hold a seat for Jim. The place is filling up fast."

"We'd better do that," I said, producing the four tickets I had just bought. "Jim probably got delayed getting a bite in the dogwagon. It's always packed and jammed on Saturdays at this time."

We filed inside and soon discovered that the Cameo was packed and jammed too.   I looked anxiously around for seats together, but to my dismay, there were none.  Trixie and Honey finally found two seats together on the aisle and Mart and I were forced to sit down the front.

I turned around and strained to see Honey.

"Forget about it," Mart sighed.  "Just watch the movie."

I frowned and shuffled down into my seat, barely able to concentrate on the opening sequence.  Something was wrong, it wasn't just that I wasn't sitting next to Honey.  Something was going on.  What was Trixie up to, and where was Jim?

An hour and a half later, the movie finished and we shuffled out into the foyer.  I had no idea what the movie was about and ignored Mart's remarks as I looked around eagerly for Honey.

"There you are," she cried breathlessly, grabbing my arm.  "Tom's got us a taxi.  Let's go."

"Where's Trixie?" Mart demanded.  "And Jim?"

"Jim never showed up," Honey revealed as she dragged us towards the taxi.  "Trixie went back to Manor House to find out what was going on."

"You let her go alone?" I cried.  "Why didn't you get one of us to go with her?"

Honey flushed worriedly.  "I know, I wanted to get you.  But Trixie was in such a hurry, she borrowed some money from Tom for a cab and she just took off."

My stomach tightened further and I could barely nod at Tom as he stood by the waiting taxi.

"I'll see you tomorrow to meet Miss Trask," he promised as we climbed into the cab.  "Honey just offered me the job as the Wheeler's new chauffeur!"

"That's great," Mart cried.

"Congratulations Tom," I murmured and reached into my pocket.  "Here's the money Trixie borrowed from you.  Thanks for lending it to her."

"No trouble," Tom replied.  "It's not like I don't know where you live."

"Thanks for the cab, Tom," Honey called to him as the car pulled away from the curb.  "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you going to tell us what's going on?" I demanded worriedly and Honey nodded with a sigh.

"Trixie spent the entire first half of the movie watching the doorway for Jim," Honey told us.  "By intermission she couldn't stand it any longer, she borrowed some money from Tom and caught a cab to my house."

"You told us that already," Mart said.  "What happened to Jim?"

"We don't know," Honey replied worriedly.  "Trixie's been worried about him ever since Miss Trask told us that he was going to meet us here.  She thinks something may have happened to him while he was out with Dick."

I nodded grimly and squeezed her hand in mine.  She looked tearfully up at me.

"What if something's happened to him?  I just got a brother, I don't want to lose him."

"Ssshhh," I murmured gently.  "It's going to be okay."

But as the cab headed towards Manor House, I wondered if it would be and we spent the rest of the trip in silence, Mart's worried eyes occasionally meeting mine.

"Oh, no!" Honey cried as we pulled into the driveway of Manor House and saw police cars coming out of the driveway.  "What's happened?"

"I think that's Dick in that car!" Mart cried excitedly and we stared in amazement.  The cab pulled to a stop at the top of the driveway and they scrambled out as I hastily paid the cab driver.

We raced inside and Honey burst into tears when she saw Jim, holding a blood-stained cloth to his head.

"Jim!"  She sobbed and threw her arms around him.  Gee, did a guy have to get a thump on the head to get a hug like that?  "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Just barely," he murmured, embarrassed.

"No thanks to me," Trixie said in disgust. 

"We saw Dick in the police car!"  Mart cried.

"What happened?"  I demanded.

"Calm down a minute," Regan cried amid the confusion.  "Trixie promised we could raid the icebox and hear the whole story.  Why don't we go to the kitchen, get comfortable and find out what happened?"

Honey tearfully released Jim from her embrace and nodded with the rest of us.  Trixie and Jim exchanged a glance that made me feel like I was intruding just by seeing it.  They didn't speak to each other, they didn't need to.  I swallowed hard.  My little sister was growing up.

Ten minutes later, we were all gathered around the long kitchen table. Regan had donated to the feast the big platter of sandwiches Celia and the cook had made earlier. Honey poured creamy milk into tall glasses as Trixie told Regan how she and Honey had found the diamond.

When she finished, Regan shook his head. "Say, Trixie," he said, almost sternly, "you got off easy with just a bad fright. And what a lucky break for you that I didn't go to the police station and prefer charges. If I had, the cops would have soon found out that your mother has the diamond but doesn't know it. If I had any sense, I'd give you a good bawling out for keeping it from the police so long!"

"Don't worry about that part of it," I said with a rueful grin. "We're all in trouble. We can't very well ask Dad to take the diamond to headquarters tomorrow without confessing our sins.

"That's true," Regan said in a relieved tone of voice. "How do your parents stand you kids, anyway? What next?"

"I still don't understand about the Dick the Dip part," Honey sighed. "Please begin at the beginning as you promised, Jim."

"Dick and Louie, Dick's accomplice," Jim began, "are sort of super-pickpockets. They make a specialty of robbing big New York office buildings during the hot summer months. Firms are not only understaffed, then, with many employees away on vacation, but they're careless. They leave the doors open to the main corridors and then go into adjoining offices, leaving the reception room empty. Women workers are especially careless, according to Dick. Before he bopped me on the head, he boasted plenty."

"Oh, I hate him," Honey cried fiercely. "I hate him. I hope he has poison ivy all the time he's in jail."

Jim patted her small hand affectionately. "It didn't hurt, Sis. It was just a stunning blow. You see, he was sitting in the back seat, and I was sitting in front behind the wheel. The idea was that I'd get self-confidence more quickly that way. So I didn't even know what was happening until too late."

Trixie gasped. "Why, that sounds as though he planned to knock you out even before you accused him of being a bow—bow—"

"Bogus is the word," Mart said. "Which you would have known, if you had my superior education."

Trust Mart to be arrogant at a time like this.  He was missing being the center of attention.

Trixie ignored him. "Bogus chauffeur."

Jim nodded. "He did plan to get rid of me as soon as Bobby told him that Honey and I had switched rooms. That's why he offered to give me driving lessons just before he left to try and find Louie who had knocked him out the night before and departed with the rest of the loot."

"So that's why he was so touchy about his suitcase," Regan said. "All the loot but the diamond was in it?"

"That's right," Jim said. "When Dick came back, after finding no trace of Louie, he decided to get the diamond tonight. He planned to get me out of his hair late in the afternoon and say that he left me off in the village for a haircut, and so forth. Then, Celia told him that we were all going to the early show. When he heard that, he wasn't interested in the driving lesson any more, but he had to keep his promise in order to avoid suspicion. I don't think he would have bopped me on the head if I hadn't lost my temper and accused him of forgery."

"Red hair," Trixie said with a grin and her eyes twinkled at Jim, "will do it every time. Let's get back to women office workers and how careless they are. Not," she added in a loud aside to Honey, "that they're any more careless than men."

Jim shrugged. "According to Dick they are. He says they are forever leaving jewelry and their handbags in a nice spot where, during the hot weather, they can be snatched by anybody strolling along the corridors. Anyway, Dick and Louie made a nice haul during July and August. Most of the stuff they snatched wasn't very valuable, but it all amounted to quite a nice haul just the same. The diamond was a windfall—and the pickpockets' down­fall."

Honey nodded. "The lady it belonged to must have been furious. Mother would have hysterics if anything happened to the ring Daddy gave her."

I looked at Honey's slender hands.  A large diamond ring would not seem out of place on her long fingers either.

"The lady," Jim said, "according to the police, was wild. When I called headquarters from the Hoyts', I told the desk sergeant everything I knew about Dick, and he was wild, too. They had been questioning Louie since yesterday morning as to the whereabouts of Dick and the diamond, but Louie, for some reason known only to the brotherhood of dips, wouldn't tell them a thing."

"How did the police get on the trail of Dick and Louie in the first place?" Mart asked. "Trying to catch a sneak thief in one of those big New York office buildings would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack." He bowed to Trixie. "Pardon the expression. I know how you hate the word, needle."

"I don't know," Jim said. "The sergeant didn't go into details over the phone. But I imagine that when the lady who owns the diamond discovered it was missing, she raised a hue and a cry pretty quickly. An elevator boy may have been able to describe two suspicious-looking characters he had noticed loitering in the office building just before that."

"Uh-huh," Regan said. "New York police detectives are as familiar with the faces of all known pickpockets as they are with their own. And Dapper Dick, minus the black eye and poison ivy, would have been easy to spot."

"Why, in spite of that," Trixie added, "our very own Sleepyside policemen recognized him right off." She turned to Jim. "I suppose, after they stole the ring, they took it out of the setting, planning to pawn the stone in some town way upstate?"

"I imagine so," Jim said. "Or it may have been jarred from the setting during the fight in the cottage Tuesday night. You were right about that, Trixie; in fact, you were right about practically everything."

"Sometimes, she is," Mart said sadly. "But let's not get in the habit of believing her. If we did, we'd be sure to end up on Mars."

"Is that the next stop?" Regan asked, pretending to cringe. "Flying saucers will be the thing that starts her off, I'll bet." He poured himself another glass of iced tea. "The thing that makes me happiest is that Dick spent a lot of time with Bobby yesterday morning and never had any idea that the kid had the rock in his pocket all the time."

"That makes me happy, too," Trixie said. "But I'll never be really happy, Regan, until you tell us your secret."

"Well, now," he said, crossing his long legs, "things have changed in the last few hours. I doubt if Miss Trask will buy Susie after all."  

"Miss Trask," Trixie yelled. "Was she going to buy Susie? Why, she doesn't know a thing about horses!"

Regan shrugged his broad shoulders. "She can learn, can't she? If Jim, here, has picked up the gear-shift business so quickly, I guess I could teach Miss Trask a little something about how to make a horse stop and go."

"Regan," Honey cried. "You're just teasing us. Does Miss Trask really want to have riding lessons?"

"That's what she told me," Regan retorted. "Said if I thought Susie was a good buy, she'd buy her on the installment plan. Said we really ought to have five horses. Said she was sure Trixie would keep Susie exercised when she was too busy to ride." He glared across the table at Trixie. "That's gratitude for you. I suppose, now that you and Honey are loaded with money, you wouldn't consider buying the little mare and giving her to Miss Trask. Miss Trask, the best friend you ever had!"

Trixie's mouth fell open with surprise. "B-But, Re-Re-gan," she stuttered. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't enough money to buy a horse. In fact, I owe Tom Delanoy fifty cents."

"I paid him for you," I said. "Did Honey tell you that he starts to work out here as chauffeur after Labor Day?"

"I was there when she interviewed Tom," Trixie replied. "You'll like him a lot, Regan. And please, don't be so mysterious. What made you say that Honey and I are loaded with money?"

Regan pushed back his chair and stood up. "You can't sit there and tell me that there wasn't a fat reward offered for the recovery of that diamond! Fat enough, anyway, to convince Jed Tomlin that Susie ought to stay on here." He glared at Trixie again, his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile. "If you don't buy that mare for Miss Trask, Trixie Belden, I'll never let you put your foot in my stable again." He strode out and the screen door slammed behind him.

Trixie reached weakly across the table to clutch Honey's hands. "Oh, oh," they cried together. "Oh, oh, OH!"

"Oh, brother," Mart crowed. "Five horses for five mounted Bobwhites of the Glen. And all of them always needing exercise!"

"It's the answer to everything, all right," Jim said.

"It certainly is," I said with a grin. "Now that Trixie doesn't have to save up for that colt any more, she can contribute every cent she earns toward the clubhouse."

"I will," Trixie said. "And I've got twenty-five dollars in the savings bank. We should be able to put on a new roof for that."

Mart flung his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "You're a great girl, Trix," he said softly. "Super! Even if you can't thread a needle, I wouldn't swap you for any other sister in the world."

"Even me?" Honey laughed and Jim smiled admiringly at Trixie.

"Well, Brian might," Mart quipped slyly.  "But I don't think he'd want you for a sister."

Honey's eyes widened as I spluttered in surprise.

"What about me?" Trixie asked Jim coyly.  "Would you want me for a sister?"

"Well, I'm pretty happy with the sister I have..." Jim answered with a slow smile.  "But I'm just as happy having you as my friend."

Trixie blushed and I smiled to myself, turning towards to Honey.  She looked up at me. Her eyes, warm and happy, made goosebumps appear on my skin.

I knew then that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The End.