The Gatehouse Mystery

walked across the driveway from the garage to the kitchen door when he went inside for meals. We can't hope to find footprints in the gravel."
    "Don't be silly," Trixie said. "Bobby showed him all over the place yesterday. They couldn't have kept to the driveway or the lawns all the time. Not with Bobby conducting the sightseeing tour. Let's look in all the flower beds."
    Honey laughed. "Even if we should find footprints in the flower beds, it won't prove anything. They could have been made by Gallagher."
    "True, too true," Trixie said with a groan. "I give up."
    Jim came down the front steps then. "Why so gloomy, girls?"
    "Why so cheery?" Trixie came back at him. "All our clues ruined!"
    "They didn't amount to a row of pins, anyway," Jim said. "Not to us, anyway. Police detectives could probably have learned a lot from the tire-tread marks and rubber-heeled imprints, but we haven't a crime lab." He grinned at Trixie. "A lot of people have rubber heels on their shoes and drive cars with rubber tires." Suddenly Trixie remembered something. "Honey," she hissed. "Where is the diamond now?"
    Honey turned pale. "I d-don't know. The 1-last time I had it was down by your chicken coop. Everyone was taking turns looking at it while you were telling your brothers how we found it." She clutched Jim's arm. "Oh, oh! Suppose somebody dropped it in that long grass."
    Trixie felt sick and weak with worry. "A crow has probably made off with it by now, Honey; and I know about crows. They can't resist anything that glitters."
    "Hold your horses," Jim said. "Even a crow's sharp eyes couldn't see through that long grass. Let's go down and have a look before we jump to conclusions."
    "I can't take a step," Trixie said, collapsing on the lawn. "My knees are shaking, and I've got butterflies in my stomach. I just know we'll never see that diamond again."
    Honey sank down beside her. "I can't move, either. Oh, why didn't I leave it in my jewelry box?"
    Jim stared at them with disgust. "Pull yourselves together," he said sternly. "There's no point in crossing bridges until you come to them. A fine pair of female detectives you two are going to make!"
    Trixie immediately scrambled to her feet, her cheeks flaming. "You're absolutely right, Jim," she said coldly. "The diamond is probably perfectly safe. Come on, Honey; let's go find it. It's our worry, not Jim's."
    "Temper, temper," Jim said, helping Honey to her feet. "We'll all go look. We're all in this mess now. If it's lost, it's as much my fault as yours. I should have made you turn it over to the police."
    "I hope it is lost," Honey said suddenly. "I never want to see the horrid thing again. It's practically ruined my whole summer."
    Jim hooted. "This is Friday afternoon, and you found it Wednesday morning. What brief summers you have, Miss Wheeler!"
    Honey giggled nervously. "Oh, you know what I mean, Jim. Anyway, if it is lost, who's going to know that we lost it?"
    "Or found it, for that matter," Trixie said, cheering up. "I'm sure Dick stole it, so it doesn't belong to him."
    "It belongs to somebody," Jim pointed out as they hurried down the path to the hollow. "And that somebody must have notified the police when it was stolen. We can be pretty sure of that."
    "Then you agree with us now?" Trixie asked triumphantly. "It was stolen, and whoever stole it dropped it in the cottage?"
    "I don't know what else to believe," Jim admitted. "But any way you look at it, whether it was lost or stolen, whoever owns it must have notified the police right away. Sooner or later, detectives are going to show up in this neck of the woods and start asking questions. In fact, I'm surprised that they haven't yet."
    "Maybe Dick's a plainclothesman in disguise," Honey interrupted. "Maybe he got that black eye fighting with the man who tried to sneak into my room last night. Maybe he captured him and took him to the police station last night. Maybe the man has confessed that he stole the diamond; but he lost it, and we found it. Oh, oh," she finished, "now what'll we do?"
    Trixie stuck her fingers in her ears. "Don't talk like that, Honey," she begged. "I can't stand it."
    "Whoa, both of you," Jim said. "Curb your imaginations. We don't even know for sure that it was a man who tried to sneak into your room last night, Honey. It might have been one of the maids. Helen, for instance. Miss Trask just hired her on Monday. Suppose she took a walk through the woods Wednesday and saw you go into the cottage. It