The Mystery Off Glen Road (12 page)

“And we certainly don’t want him fooling around the clubhouse,” Trixie said. “His idea of a good joke would be to set it on fire or something.”

“That’s the point,” Honey said worriedly. “But if we don’t keep an eye on him he might do something dreadful like playing a practical joke on Regan. He might fill the saddle-soap cans with cold cream or tie knots in the reins.”

Trixie shuddered. “What a goon! And I have to be nice to him.”

Honey smiled suddenly as she went on to add, “More than that, you have to act as though you were in love with him.”

“Rub it in, rub it in,” Trixie said sarcastically. “I’ll have you know, Honey Wheeler, I don’t have to put on that act unless there’s an audience. That means that when I’m alone with him, which I hope will never happen, or when you and I are alone with him, I can pretend he isn’t there. So let’s do all we can to keep me away from him when the others are around. Thus, the answer to the whole ghastly Ben Riker problem is to make the boys keep an eye on him. We’ll just tell them flatly that they have to. After all, he
is
a boy.”

Honey giggled. “They’ll flatly refuse to cope with him unless he’s in a strait jacket, and you know it. But
seriously, Trix, he isn’t awful
all
of the time. He can be very nice and lots of fun when he isn’t playing practical jokes.”

“You’re wasting your breath on me,” Trixie said sourly. “Sell Ben’s good points to Jim. Make
him
love him as though he were a beloved sibling, and all of our problems will be solved.”

“Don’t be silly,” Honey interrupted. “Jim despises boys like Ben who have too much spending money and never do any work. What—who, I mean, whom I was thinking of is Di Lynch. Ben is very good-looking in that playboy way, and Di is so pretty. If we introduced them, they might go for each other, then that would be that. All you’d have to do is look jealous for a while and then brokenhearted, and pretty soon you could become resigned to your fate and be normal again.”

Trixie burst into loud, joyous laughter. “You’re a genius, Honey. Di is the perfect answer. Invite her out this afternoon.”

Honey nodded. “If they get along today, I’ll ask her to spend the whole Thanksgiving vacation with us. Lucky for us, Miss Trask likes house parties. She’ll be sure to approve.”

“Only one thing worries me,” Trixie said after a while. “Di might come out in jeans. That would ruin
everything. Ben hates tomboys. How can we tactfully tell her to wear a dress?”

“I’ll say we’re having a little party,” Honey said calmly. “It’s getting warmer by the minute, so we can have hot chocolate and cookies on the veranda around four o’clock, and with all of us there it
will
be a party, in a way.”

“Well, count me out,” Trixie said firmly. “I couldn’t possibly stand a party today and again on Thursday so soon after the wedding.”

“What party is there going to be on Thursday?” Honey asked.

“Honey Wheeler!” Trixie cried. “You know Moms always asks a lot of people to drop in on Thanksgiving all afternoon and evening. Your parents and you and Jim were invited weeks ago. Miss Trask and Regan, too. It’s what you call an open house, but it’s a party just the same. Moms serves a buffet supper of ham and turkey and cole slaw and all, which I have to help her with and at the same time keep Bobby from doing any of the awful things he always does when we have company.”

Trixie stopped for breath and Honey said, “I knew you were having open house on Thursday, but I didn’t think of it as a party, but of course it is. Your mother asked Ben, too. I hope she asked Di.”

“All of the Lynches are coming,” Trixie told her. “And the neighbors, of course. Dozens of people, but they seldom stay very long and don’t all arrive at once. But let’s get back to your party. Please, Honey, don’t make me come to it.”

“All right, I won’t,” Honey said, smiling. “But the boys are going to think it’s awfully odd, after the way you’ve been saying all week that you could hardly wait until Ben arrives.”

“Oh, I’ll be here when he arrives all right,” Trixie said bitterly. “But I don’t have to become his Siamese twin, do I? And there’s no sense in your telling me I have to look jealous and brokenhearted and resigned. I don’t know how to look any of those things.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Honey said wistfully. “It would be so funny.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Well, we’ve finished patrolling this section, and although we didn’t do a very good job on the other side, there isn’t time now. What with grooming the horses and cleaning the tack, we’re going to be late to lunch.”

It was almost one when they separated in front of the stable. Trixie raced home and scrubbed her hands at the kitchen sink. The other Beldens were already seated at the table, but nobody scolded her for being late.

“We’ve finished our share of the work,” Brian told her. “How did the patrolling go?”

“Fine,” Trixie said. “Just fine.”

“How many poachers did you two catch?” Mart asked derisively as she pulled out her chair. “And where did you leave their corpses?”

Trixie jumped guiltily and hastily changed the subject. “What about grain for the birds? When do we scatter that around?”

“Jim and I took care of that today,” Brian said. “I’m not sure when it has to be done again, but Jim will let you know.” He turned to his father. “Jim sure is great, Dad. He seems to know everything about everything.”

They began to discuss the work they were doing on the clubhouse then and Trixie ate in silence. There was so much to be done and so little time to do it all in. After lunch she washed the dishes and hurried up to take a shower. It was agony to have to waste time getting dressed up for Ben’s arrival, because just as soon as she could, she was going to go home and change back into jeans. Then she would bike along the road to the trail that led into the game preserve. After that she would have to walk until she reached the clearing where the Thing was.
If
the Thing was still there! She shuddered just thinking about it.

For slowly but surely Trixie had come to the conclusion that she could not sleep that night until she made sure, one way or the other, about the dogs. If they were the culprits she knew that she would have to tell Jim. But if they weren’t, then the terrible weight on her conscience would disappear.

Trixie wore a pleated dark-blue wool skirt and a pale-blue cashmere sweater set with matching socks. She even polished her school moccasins so they didn’t look quite so scuffed, and clasped around her neck a strand of small pearls which Di had donated to the cause.

Then all of a sudden it dawned on her that today of all days she should be wearing her ring. In fact, she should wear it every time she got dressed up all week. After all the fuss she had made, somebody, if not everybody in the family would be sure to notice that she never wore it.

“Oh, woe,” Trixie moaned as she started up the hill to the Manor House, “why do I get myself into these scrapes? I wish Jim had never given me that ring.”

What could she do to solve this problem?

“Nothing,” she decided, and trudged along until she caught sight of the boys and girls who were waiting for her on the veranda. By the time she arrived, Jim, Brian, and Mart were leaving to continue work on the clubhouse.

They glanced at her with pity, shrugged and sighed as one man, and departed. This suited Trixie fine because now she didn’t have to put on her act. Then she noticed to her satisfaction that Di, looking prettier than ever, had already captivated Ben.

He stared at Trixie for a moment as though he didn’t know who she was, then said coolly, “Hi, goon. Go home and take off your mother’s clothes. On you they definitely look queer.”

Honey said quickly, “You look darling, Trixie. Come on up to my room with me for a sec. I want to show you something.” She winked at Di. “It’s about the secret.
You
know.”

Di winked back with an understanding smile and said to Ben, “Let’s play some of our favorite records. I’m so glad you like hillbilly songs, too.”

“Wow!” Trixie exploded when she and Honey were alone upstairs. “Di’s got him, hook, line, and sinker. How in the world
can
she stand him?”

“Oh, Trixie,” Honey cried. “He’s really very good-looking. Tall and blond and broad-shouldered and all. But let’s not talk about him. What worries me is your ring. You’ve simply got to wear it every now and then. If you don’t, your father will think you lost it.”

“I wish I had,” Trixie said mournfully. “I mean,
I wish I were a liar so I could tell him I’d lost it when he asks me where it is. Which he’s going to do pretty soon.”

Honey nodded. “If you keep your hands in your pockets, you might get by with it for a while. But you can’t do that at your Thanksgiving party.”

“I can’t do it and eat dinner every evening either,” Trixie pointed out tartly. Suddenly she brightened. “Now that Di has broken my heart and all, do I have to dress up for dinner every night?”

Honey thought for a moment. “I guess not, but you’ve simply got to look sad for at least a couple of days.”

“I
am
sad,” Trixie retorted. “I’m so darn sad, I’m thinking seriously of running away from home and staying until I can get that ring back from Mr. Lytell.”

Honey laughed. “Now you’re talking like Bobby. Every time he gets into a scrape he runs away. Thank goodness he never runs any farther than your chicken coop or Regan’s apartment over the garage.”

Trixie shrugged. “Most of the time Bobby doesn’t have sense enough to know when he’s done something awful. Remember what a scare he gave us when he lost that diamond we found in the clubhouse when it was still the gatehouse?”

“He didn’t lose it,” Honey reminded her. “He put it accidentally in the safest possible place.”

“Oh!” Trixie suddenly slid off the window seat and raced over to Honey’s dainty dressing table. She grabbed the jewel box and brought it back to Honey. “This thing is jam-packed with costume jewelry. There must be a phony diamond ring in it that looks enough like mine so I can wear it for a week.”

Honey gasped. “Trixie, you’re so smart. There
is
one somewhere.” She dumped the contents on the window seat and they both stared at the jumbled mass of pins, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings. “I don’t know where one thing begins and the other one ends,” Honey complained as she tried to disentangle the various bright stones and strands.

Trixie held her breath until they were all sorted, then she let it out in a long, discouraged sigh. “Nine rings, but not one of them with anything that faintly resembles a diamond. And you’re supposed to be my best friend, Honey Wheeler.”

Honey giggled. “Have no fears, I shall not fail you. I remember now where that diamond ring is. Mother borrowed it from me when she went to a masquerade as the Queen of Sheba. It must be in her costume jewelry box.” She led the way down the hall and into Mrs.
Wheeler’s beautiful room. She marched over to the dressing table, lifted the cover on a handsome leather case, took out a tray, and cried triumphantly: “Behold, comrade! In fact, take your choice. There are four to be exact.”

Trixie peered over Honey’s shoulder. “Are you sure these are all fakes?” she asked in an awed tone of voice.

“Of course,” Honey replied. “They’re not even good paste imitations. Mother has tons of those, of course, which look exactly like her valuable jewels, but they’re so expensive to make she keeps them under lock and key. All of the stuff in this box is just junk she wears for fun.” She took out one of the rings. “This looks enough like yours so if you don’t get too close to somebody who knows all about precious stones you’ll get by with it.”

Trixie hesitated before she slipped it on her finger. “It’s kind of loose,” she murmured nervously. “Suppose I lose it? How much is it worth, Honey?”

“About a dollar,” Honey said airily. “Anyway, it’s mine, so don’t worry. I hereby give it to you, to have and to hold or to lose, but please don’t lose it until you get your own back.”

“Gee, thanks,” Trixie said as they went back into Honey’s room. For a moment she felt guilty. Honey was such a good friend! She really should tell her that she
was going to go back and examine the Thing. But if she did, Honey would argue against it. She would be sympathetic and say:

“I know just how you feel. I won’t be able to sleep tonight either because of my guilty conscience. But it’ll be dark before you get there. You might get lost in the labyrinth. The dogs will be shut up indoors all night, so tomorrow morning when we patrol before school will be soon enough.”

Right now Honey was saying, “I wish you’d stay for hot chocolate and cookies, Trix. The boys are coming to my little party because it’ll be too dark to work on the clubhouse after four-thirty. We won’t have much fun without you, but I know just how you feel. You’d have to put on an act and pretend you were jealous, and you must be awfully tired, what with the chores you have to do at home and all.” She linked her arm through Trixie’s and they strolled down the stairs. “Jim and I think you’re just wonderful, Trixie. Practically perfect. So don’t pay any attention to Ben when he makes stupid remarks. I mean, don’t stay away from here all week on account of him. The house party is all set. Di has accepted. I invited her for the whole vacation when I asked her to come out today because I suddenly remembered that she and Ben are both music-lovers. They’ll probably spend
the whole time listening to records, so we won’t ever see them, except at meals.” She stopped to catch her breath.