“What cooks gang?” Mart as we approached Honey, Jim and Trixie, who were standing near the chicken coop in our back yard.  “Haven’t you got anything more exciting to do than look for four-leaf clovers?”

Trixie coughed loudly. “That's just what we're looking for.  A clover with facets.  Facets.  Have you got it, Mart?”

That was it!  I was now convinced that girls, my sister especially, spoke a language all of their own.

Mart stared at her, and Bobby promptly said, “I know what a facet is. I washed my hands under the kitchen facet when I got through making mud pies.”

“Fine,” Trixie said. “Now go back and wash them again. Your fingernails are dirty.”

“Are not!” Bobby yelled. “Yours are.”

“So they are,” Trixie admitted. “Run in the house and get me a nail file, will you, please, Bobby darling?”

“No,” Bobby said firmly. “Go get it your own self.”

Trixie turned to me with a hopeless expression on her face. “Have you by any chance got you-know-what?”

Completely confused, I turned the pockets of my jeans inside out in reply, and Mart followed suit.

“This is the end,” Trixie gasped, sinking down on the rock.

“It would help,” Mart said, “if we knew what you were looking for.”

Then Jim got asked. “A famous, very rich man, with the same first name as mine, collected jewels and got him­self a nickname. Guess who?”

“James Buchanan Brady,” I answered promptly, “more commonly known as Di—”
 

I broke off as Trixie was seized with a violent fit of coughing, Honey hummed loudly, and Jim whistled shrilly through his fingers.

“Gleeps,” Mart yelled. “I get it. Oh, no!”

“We’ve lost it?”  I asked, incredulous.  “How could we have lost it?”

 “Oh, yes,” Trixie said. “And we've combed every inch of the grass around this rock. Now what?”

We stared at each other in search of an answer and then I realised with a sinking sensation that I was the last one with the diamond.  I must have left it in the grass when we left to go for a swim!  In my eagerness to see Honey in a swimsuit, I had left the diamond behind!

I flushed guiltily and wondered if I should confess.

Bobby broke the silence. “Hey!” he shouted. “I founded a four-leaf clover.”

Trixie glared at him. “Don't be so silly. You can count. It's only got three leaves.”

“Has not,” Bobby corrected. “I never touch anything with three leaves. Might be poison ivy.”

“Good for you,” Mart said, lifting him into his arms. “If the kids I took care of at camp had your brains, I wouldn't have spent so much time drowning them in calamine lotion.”

“He is smart,” Trixie admitted, and added shrewdly, “Bobby, why don't you show Mart the outdoor shower Jim rigged up for you?”

“You're wasting your breath,” Mart said as Bobby wriggled out of his arms. “I know that age. They stick like burs when you want to get away from them, and dis­appear like magic at bedtime.”

“There must be some way we can have a conference,” I said desperately. “Don't you take a nap any more, Bobby?”

“He does,” Trixie said wearily, “but this being your first day home, Moms let him off. If only we could all speak French, like Honey. For the first time in my life, I wish our parents had been rich enough to send us to boarding school.”

I glanced over at Honey in admiration and she blushed prettily.

“I know what,” Honey said suddenly. “Miss Trask! She's teaching Bobby how to add and subtract with little stones. Wouldn't you like to play with Miss Trask for a while, Bobby?”

“Yeah,” Bobby cried enthusiastically. “I founded a pret­ty, great big stone right here this morning. Wait! I'll go get it for Miss Trask.”

I glanced up quickly.  Had Bobby found the diamond?

He started off but Trixie grabbed his arm. “You found what here?”

“Hey!” he yelled. “Lemme go. You hurted my arm, badly.” He pulled away from her and raced across the field toward the house.

“See what I mean?” Mart asked with a shrug. “As soon as you want them for anything, they find that they're allergic to you. It never fails.”

“This is no time for joking,” Trixie said briskly. “Don't you realize that Bobby found the diamond?”

“Gleeps,” Mart howled. 'The pretty, great big stone! Let's go after him, Trix.”

“Take it easy, kids,” I interrupted with relief. “You'll only stam­pede him if you rush after him. Let him bring it back.”

“That's right,” Jim agreed. “If you start asking him a lot, of questions, he might get so confused he'll forget where he put it.”

“The suspense is maddening,” Trixie moaned, collapsing on the rock again. “It would be just like Bobby to have dropped it down the drain when he washed his hands at the kitchen facet.”

I scratched my head anxiously.  What if he had lost it?  What if my stupid hormones had caused us to lose the diamond for good?

I glanced worriedly at Honey.  Maybe she was worth it.

“I'm not even going to think until he comes back,” Honey said. “Suppose he shows up with a plain ordinary rock? Suppose he made it into a mud pie and threw it into the pond? That pond is knee-deep in mud.”

“I thought you weren't going to think,” Jim reminded her with a grin. “If you must do it, don't do it out loud. It gives me the jitters to think of what he might have done with the diamond.”

“The only bright spot,” Trixie said, “is that he didn't give it to Dick, his bosom friend.”

“Oh-h-h,” Mart sighed loudly. “Maybe he did. Maybe that's why Dick scrammed.”

Trixie covered her face with her hands, rocking back and forth. “Now we will go to jail, not only for withholding information, but for aiding and abetting a criminal. If only I'd let Honey give the thing to her father the minute we found it.”

“There's no sense in crying over spilled milk,” I told her sharply, knowing I had got us into this mess. “Here comes Bobby, and he is crying, so I guess he doesn't know where he put it.”

The tightness in my chest returned. 

“I losted it, I losted it,” Bobby was screaming at the top of his lungs. “Holp! Holp!” -

“Help, help, yourself,” Trixie muttered under her breath. “Oh, why do I get myself into these scrapes?”

“That's not the question I'm asking myself,” I said bitterly, my guilt growing. “What I want to know is how you always manage to get us in Dutch with you?”

“Oh, go away,” Trixie said, on the verge of tears. “Go back to camp. Go join the Navy. I don't care what hap­pens now.”

“Oh, Trixie,” Honey cried, joining her on the rock.  “Don't feel so badly. Daddy has plenty of money. He can keep us out of jail.” She threw her slender arms around Trixie. “If the police come around asking for diamonds, Mother will give them one of hers.”

If I confessed my guilt, would Honey hug me?  I considered the possibility.

“Thanks, Honey,” Trixie said forlornly, “but that's out.” She got up, squaring her shoulders and said to Bobby, '''Stop bawling. Tell us where you think you put the pretty stone, and we'll all help you find it.”

Bobby kept right on screaming, and Trixie added in a more gentle voice, “It'll be our secret. A secret, Bobby. Nobody will know about it but you and me and Brian and Mart and Honey and Jim. A real secret.”

Instantly Bobby was all smiles. “A real seecrud, Trixie?”

“That's right,” Mart said. “Wild horses couldn't drag it out of me. Where did you take the pretty stone after you found it, Bobby?”

“To the sandpile,” he said promptly. “The one Jim made for me by the shower.”

“That'll teach you,” Mart said in an aside to Jim. “Never be kind to this age group.” He grinned, cuddling Bobby closer to him. “And after the sandpile, Little King? Mud pies?”

“Oh, no,” Bobby said airily. “I put in my pocket.” He turned one pocket of his playsuit inside out, displaying a large hole. “But it wented out.”

“Where?” Trixie asked dismally. “While you were catching frogs in the pond?”

He nodded his head up and down, and Trixie held her breath. “But I found it again with my strainer,” he told her. “And then, I put it in this pocket, so it wouldn't get losted. And then, I went up to see Dickie. Mommy said I could,” he added defensively. “You were down in the garden.”

“Never mind where Trixie was,” I said quickly, smiling down at him while fighting back the urge to shake him. “We're only interested in where you were all day. Did you show Dick the pretty stone?”

“No,” Bobby admitted sadly. “I forgot.”

We exhaled in relief.

“Did you put it somewhere in my room,” Honey asked, “while you helped Jim and me move our things?”

“I don't think so,” Bobby said, frowning. “I put it in Jim's camera, once, but I tooked it out again.”

“Inside my tennis racket case, maybe?” Jim asked. “In the pocket where I keep the balls I said you could have?”

“I don't think so,” Bobby said again. “I think I put it in a box. A sort of boxlike thing. But maybe I put it in my teddybear. He's got a big hole in his head.”

“We've all got holes in our heads,” Mart said sorrow­fully. “Which one of us masterminds dropped it here in the grass?”

“I dropped it lots of times,” Bobby informed him cheer­fully. “But it's so shiny, I always founded it again.”

“I tell you what,” Mart said. “I'll give you a shiny, bright, glittery-like dime if you find it. Why don't you go get your teddy bear and see if it's in his head?”

“Okey, dokey,” Bobby said and scampered off.

The minute he was out of earshot, we all spoke at once.

“It's somewhere in my room,” Honey said.

“I'll bet it's in with my fishing tackle,” Jim said.

“It's in the bottom of the pond,” Trixie said.

“I'm going to sift the sandpile with a strainer,” I said.

“The place to look,” Mart said, “is in the mud under his shower.”

“What did you say?” We all asked each other.

I held up my hand. “Let's not do that all over again. This Tower of Babel business will get us nowhere. Let's all go and look wherever we think it might be. And report at the boathouse in an hour.”

“It just might be in his teddy bear,” Honey said.

“Not a prayer,” Trixie told her. “If we'd found a four-leaf clover, yes. But with only crabgrass on our side, no.” She started off for the little pond below the rock garden. “If I don't show up in an hour, you'll know I met the same fate as 'Clementine.'“

“We'll see that you get decent burial,” Mart called after her.

“Don't bother,” Trixie retorted. “If I don't find that diamond, I'll dig my own grave.”

I hurried inside and up to Bobby’s room.  He sat on his bed, pulling handfuls of stuffing out of his bear.

“It’s losted!” He wailed.

“Maybe it fell out of the bear,” I suggested and hunted through the piles of stuffing.

“I looked!” He insisted.  “It’s losted.”

I looked desperately around the room.

“Where’s your strainer?”

Bobby dug it out from underneath his bed and I snatched it from him.

“Let’s go down to the sandpit and see if we can find your stone.”

An hour later, Mart and I headed down to the boathouse, both empty-handed.

“You were the one who lost it, weren’t you?” Mart accused.

“Why do you say that?” I muttered.

“Because Honey gave it to you and you were the last one with it,” Mart replied with a grin.  “I guess your mind was somewhere else.”

“Give it a rest,” I pleaded.

“So it was you!” Mart cried triumphantly.  “Boy, you must have it bad for her if you’re distracted enough to lose a diamond!”

“Look,” I began in exasperation.  “There’s no point in placing the blame on anyone for any reason.  Let’s just concentrate on finding the diamond.”

Mart opened his mouth to retort and I glared at him.  Mart, for once, had enough sense to stay quiet.

We found the others already at the boathouse.

“Don't let's say anything,” Trixie said. “I can tell from the expression on your faces that you didn't find it.”

“You look so gay,” Mart said, “I'm sure you found it.”

“I did,” Trixie said. “But when I'd dug my way clear through to China, I found that a little boy there had found it in a rice field. He needed it more than I did, so I let him keep it.”

“That was real generous of you,” Jim said. “I hope he brings you rice cakes in jail.”

“I don't know how you can joke about it,” Honey said. “I searched every inch of my room. I mean Jim's room. Oh, what do I mean?”

I smiled at her sympathetically and she returned the smiled gratefully.

“It doesn't matter,” Trixie said sourly. “If I had a grappling iron, I'd search the bottom of the lake, just for the fun of it.”

“I, at least,” I put in, “had sense enough to check up on the teddy bear angle. No soap.”

“If you had any sense,” Trixie said, “you'd check up on the Dick angle. That guy probably picked Bobby's pocket.”

“Oh, come, come,” Jim said. “Let's not go off on tan­gents. Dick isn't really a bad guy, Trixie. Just because you don't get on with him doesn't mean he's a dip.”

“A what?” Trixie demanded. “Did you say a dip? Drip is the word.”

“Dip,” Mart explained. “It's short for pickpocket. Don't ask me why. It's gangster lingo.”

Trixie arched her eyebrows at him. “What nice bits of language you picked up at camp. Did one of the small fry teach you?”

“No,” Mart said grinning. “State troopers. They stopped us just when we were starting down the river. Wanted to know if we'd noticed any strangers lurking around the woods near camp. They're on the trail of two famous dips.”

“That word grows on you,” Trixie said. “Pretty soon, you'll be talking out of the corner of your mouth.  Dip,” she repeated. “It sounds better when you say, Dick the Dip. Maybe he's one of your pickpockets.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Mart said. “To be sure, to be sure. And he specializes in picking the pockets of fat little boys in play suits.”

“Dick the Dick sounds better to me,” Honey said with a giggle. “I'm sure he's a detective.”

I frowned.  Honey’s attraction to Dick hadn’t lessened since this morning.  I wondered if she’d seen his black eye yet.

“A G-man, no less,” Trixie jeered. “It's well known that they all look like weasels.”

“Let's make some sense for a change,” Jim interrupted. “Where else should we look? I'm serious. We've got to find it. It doesn't belong to us, and it does belong to some-one..”

“Don't rub it in,” Trixie moaned. “Where do you think we should look? And don't say anything about mud pies. I examined that angle thoroughly, as well as Bobby's room and his toy box.”

“All that and China, too?” Mart demanded. “My, what a fast worker you are, grandma.”

“You must have been following Mart and I,” I told her.  “We checked all those places too.”

“The pond isn't very big,” Trixie reminded us. “And neither is Bobby's room. The toy box was the worst part of it.” Suddenly she jumped up. “Box, that's it. Remember? He said he put it in a sort of boxlike thing.” She turned to Honey. “Did you look in your jewelry box?”

“Of course not,” Honey said. “It's in Jim's room. I mean, my old room.”

“I didn't look in it, either,” Jim admitted. “Do you really think that's where it is, Trixie?”

“I'm almost sure of it,” Trixie cried. “Bobby adores boxes. He simply can't resist them. He's forever filling the ones in our house with rubber bands and paper clips and stubs of pencils. Shiny stones, too. Come on!”

Trixie raced up the path and we hurried after her.  At one point, Honey stumbled and I grabbed her hand to steady her.

“Are you okay?”

“Just not looking where I’m going,” she explained, embarrassed.  “Thanks.”

I smiled and reluctantly let go of her hand.  It felt so soft and small in mine.  I glanced over to see if Mart had seen us, but thankfully he was busy exchanging theories with Trixie.

Upstairs in Honey's former room, we found the jewelry box was still on the dressing table where she and Jim had carefully left it.

Honey lifted the lid. “Nothing but costume jewelry.” She took out the tray. “It's not here.”

“Try the secret compartment,” Trixie suggested. “When his fat little hands go exploring, they don't miss a thing.”

Honey slipped her hand under the box and one small section of the bottom sprang open. She gasped. “It's there —in the secret compartment. How on earth did he find it?”

I sighed in relief and smiled widely at everyone.

Trixie grabbed the diamond and clutched it tightly in one hand. “Bobby,” she said weakly, “can find anything if you don't want him to find it.”

“How do you like that?” Mart demanded. “Traveling along devious routes, he brought it right back to the exact place from which Honey had just taken it!”

“And for that,” Trixie said, “I'll never say another cross word to him.”

“Well, now that we've found it for the second time,” Honey said, “where are we going to keep it?”

“Down at our house,” Mart said promptly. “That's al­most the best part of not being rich. Burglars never bother us.”

“Okay,” Jim agreed. “Whereabouts in your house? We don't want Bobby to find it again.”

“Heaven forbid,” I groaned. “How about in the toe of my old riding boots that are too small for me and still too big for Mart?”

“That's as safe a place as any,” Trixie said. “You put them on the top shelf of your closet, way, way back.”

“Of course,” Jim said slowly, “the sensible thing to do is to turn it over to the police right now.”

“Let's not be sensible for a while,” Trixie said. “Suppose one of the men who stole the diamond walks into our trap tonight, and you catch him red-handed, Jim. Then the police will love us. But, if we give them the diamond before we've solved the mystery, we won't be so popular, especially now that all the clues have been ruined.”

“Obliterated is the word,” I said dryly. “And annihilated is a good word to describe the condition we'll be in after we get through trying to explain to the authorities why we kept the diamond so long.”

Honey tossed her long hair defiantly and I couldn’t help but be impressed. “I don't care. After all the agony I've been through worrying over that horrid thing, I don't think we should give it to anybody until we've at least tried to find out who stole it.”

Mart chuckled. “I'm for forgetting all rules and regula­tions except the one that says finders are keepers for a few days more, anyway.”

“You've got a point there,” I agreed. “The person who left the diamond in the cottage, accidentally or on purpose, was trespassing. Isn't there some law which says finders are keepers if you find something on your own property, Jim?”

“I think so,” Jim said thoughtfully. “Suppose we struck oil. It would belong to us, not to the descendants of the family that originally purchased this land from the State of New York after the Revolution.”

“Now I feel better,” Honey said. “Although I wouldn't have the thing as a gift. Besides, we're really trying to help the police, and we actually have helped them, in a way. That is, if Trixie's theory is correct.”

“Let's hear Trixie's theory again,” Mart said. “But let's get cooled off. Can you lend Brian and me trunks, Jim?”

“Sure,” Jim said. “Let's see, where are my swimming trunks, Honey?”

“I don't know where anything is any more,” Honey complained. “I moved some of my things to your old room, but not all of them.”

“Me, too,” Jim said, grinning. He pulled a long mirror away from the wall, revealing several rows of shelves. “Yours, all yours, Honey. I guess my extra trunks are in the other room.”

“Well, hurry up and change,” Honey said. “I’ll lend Trixie a bathing suit, and we'll meet you down at the boat-house in five minutes.”

“Wait a minute,” Trixie said, holding her hands behind her back. “Diamond, diamond, who's got the diamond?”

“You have,” I said smiling, glad that someone else was responsible for it. “Run home and put it in the toe of my riding boot like a good girl.”

“I'll do nothing of the kind,” Trixie retorted. “If I so much as darken our door, Moms will think up seventy mil­lion chores for me to do. I slaved all morning. You go.”

“I tell you what,” Mart said cheerfully. “I'll try to guess which of your dirty little paws is clutching the joo-well. If I guess wrong, I'll take it home.”

“Okay,” Trixie agreed. “Right or left?”

“Right,” Mart said.

“Wrong,” Trixie said and gave him the diamond. “Run along, Mart dear, and don't forget to feed the chickens and gather the eggs.”

“Oh, brother,” Mart groaned. “I forgot that item.”

“They need fresh water, too,” Trixie said gaily. “Lucky for you, Jim filled the mash hoppers this morning. If I were you, I'd hurry like anything. Dad will be home any minute, and if he sees you, he may suggest that the coop needs clean­ing out and fresh litter put in.”

Mart raced off with a faint moan, and Trixie turned to Jim. “For your information, smarty, shovels are also used for cleaning out chicken coops, not spades.”

Jim chortled. “My, how you hate to be made fun of, Miss Belden. For your own information, I know more about the care and feeding of poultry than you ever will know.”

“Keep it to yourself,” Trixie said tartly. “What I've been through this summer has turned me against chickens and eggs in any form.”

I watched their exchange in amusement.  There was definitely chemistry between them.  This was Trixie’s way of flirting.

“Oh, dear,” Honey wailed. “Miss Trask wants all of you to have dinner with us tonight and spend the night, too. Sort of a welcome-home house party for your brothers, Trixie, but we're going to have fried chicken.”

“That's different,” Trixie said quickly. “As long as they're not our chickens.”

Jim gave Honey a surprised look. “How clever you are, little sister. When did you arrange to have all hands on deck for the springing of the trap tonight?”

Honey patted herself on the shoulder. “I am smart. I thought it was a good idea to have, as you say, all hands on deck. That prowler can't possibly get away from all of us.” She giggled. “To be honest, it was Miss Trask's idea, not mine—the house party. It's to last the whole weekend.”

Trixie collapsed on Honey's big bed. “I can't stand it It's too good to be true. Did Moms agree?”

“She certainly did,” Honey informed her with a smile. “She said you deserved a vacation. And guess what?”

“One thing at a time, puh-leeze,” I begged. “Does Miss Trask really want all three of us Beldens eating you out of house and home for forty-eight hours? And have you enough room?”

“Of course,” Honey said. “Miss Trask is very thrilled about the whole thing. There are twin beds in Jim's old room for Trixie and me. It's across the hall. And right next to it is another room with twin beds for you and Mart.”

I reddened at the thought of sleeping in the room across from Honey.  Thank God Mart wasn’t here to notice.

Trixie hugged her impulsively. “Oh, Honey, it's the nicest thing that ever happened to us.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Honey said, “until the last minute. But when Mart looked so depressed about cleaning the chicken coop, I couldn't stand it. He'll be back soon, I'm sure, with a suitcase which your mother already packed with whatever clothes you'll need.”

“Moms,” Trixie cried, “is an angel. She's much too good to me. I don't deserve it. I'm always complaining.”

I patted her arm affectionately. “You're not so bad, Sis. Dad is very proud of you. He was telling us how hard you've worked to earn the money for Jed Tomlin's colt.”

“I wish I had my own horse now,” Trixie said. “Then we could all go riding this evening when it gets cooler.”

“That's the best surprise of all,” Honey said smugly. “There are five horses in the stable right now. Miss Trask arranged with Mr. Tomlin to rent us that sweet little black mare for the weekend. You remember Susie, Trixie?”

“Oh, oh,” Trixie cried. “I fell in love with her the day we went over there with your father and Jim to look at horses. Is Susie really in the stable now?”

“I think so,” Honey said. “Anyway, if she isn't, Regan will go and get her. He's due back from his day off on the six o'clock train. He can ride over to Mr. Tomlin's on Jupe and lead Susie back.”

“I can do it for that matter,” I offered quickly. “It's only a three-mile round trip. Gosh, I'm dying to meet Regan.”

“He's a great guy,” Jim said. “And let's give him a break. Let's go down to the stable and see if Susie has arrived. If she hasn't, you and I can go get her. I'll ride Jupe, and you can take the new horse, Starlight. He's a chestnut gelding, and I think you'll like him, Brian.”

“Great,” I said. “Let's go. We don't need to bother with boots, do we? I outgrew mine this summer.”

“Boots.” Jim said with a grin. “What are they? Only Dad and Mother wear ‘em around here.”

Jim and I left Honey and Trixie to change and headed down to the stables.  Susie was not there, so we saddled Jupe and Starlight for the ride to Tomlin’s.

We headed down the driveway, waving to Trixie and Honey as they came out of the house in their bathing suits.  Starlight tugged against the bit and I pulled my eyes away.

“Your sister’s quite something,” I admitted to Jim.

“So is yours,” Jim laughed.  “I’ve never met anyone quite like her.”

“Trixie’s one of a kind, alright,” I agreed.  “Life’s never boring with her around.”

“So what do you make of this whole diamond business?” Jim asked.  “Do you think Trixie’s theory could be right?”

“She seems determined to point the finger at Dick,” I replied.  “I’m not sure if it’s just because those two don’t see eye-to-eye or what, but I gotta admit there’s something up with him.”

“Maybe he is an undercover detective, like Honey said,” Jim suggested.

“It’s a possibility,” I conceded.  “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like Trixie asking so many questions.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll find out tonight,” Jim said as we turned the horses into the woods.  “Do you want to quicken the pace a little?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied eagerly and with a quick tap of our heels the horses broke into a canter.  I was eager to collect the new horse and get back for a swim before Honey changed out of her swimsuit.  The mystery of the diamond was temporarily forgotten.