The Gatehouse Mystery

cottage."
    Honey nodded. "The second set of tire-tread marks and footprints on the shoulder of the road prove that part of your theory, Trixie. What you're leading up to, I suppose, is that when Rubber Heels came back, his partner had left the cottage; and you and I had already found the diamond."
    "That makes some sense," Jim admitted. "Naturally, the double-crosser had no way of knowing whether or not his buddy was still in the cottage. So he sneaked up to the thicket, and when he heard your voices he hid there and soon found out exactly where Honey had put the diamond."
    Brian nodded. "So he lurked in the woods near the house all day and realized that he couldn't possibly sneak in during the day with so many servants on the premises. Thursday night he did sneak inside, but Trixie's yell frightened him away."
    "You're off your trolley," Trixie broke in. "In the first place, if he spent his time lurking in the woods, he couldn't have found out which room was Honey's. And in the second place, a perfect stranger couldn't possibly have sneaked into the house Thursday night without Patch barking his head off. I keep telling you," she finished, "Dick's our man."
    "She's right," Honey cried. "He lurked in the woods on Wednesday and heard us all talking about how much we needed a chauffeur. So he simply went back to the place where he had left the car and then drove up to our garage on Wednesday evening to apply for the job, hoping that he'd be given a room on the third floor."
    "Fine," Jim jeered. "Great. How did he get the letter of recommendation from Mr. Whitney?"
    Trixie sighed. "I wish you'd never seen that letter, Jim. It ruins everything." She straightened suddenly. "Maybe it was forged!"
    "Listen, Trixie," Jim said with a sigh. "It takes time and practice to make a perfect copy of another person's signature. Especially if you don't know who the person is and have no way of getting a sample of his signature." Honey giggled. "He's right, Trixie," she said. "How could Dick have known that Mr. Whitney was a friend of Daddy's? And, even if he did, how could he have got
    hold of something with Mr. Whitney's signature on it to copy from? He produced that letter of recommendation the morning after we found the diamond."
    "I can't answer any of those questions," Trixie admitted. "Let's ride. If we don't give these horses some exercise, Regan will be awfully, awfully surprised. He's suspicious enough, as it is."

Bob-Whites of the Glen • 13

    IT WAS DARK when they finished grooming their horses. Regan came back from the village then, with Celia and the cook in the Ford.
    He put the car in the garage and called up the stairs. "Dick! You back?"
    No answer. "Well, I like that," he grumbled. "For two cents I'd blacken his other eye. Tomorrow morning I'll have to go in for Helen and Marjorie and, most likely, drive them home again."
    "It's a shame," Honey said sympathetically. "Ill ask Miss Trask if they can take a taxi until Dick does come back."
    "No, don't do that," Regan said. "Taxis, taxis! Rich as your dad is, Honey, I can't stand it. It's too extravagant." He grinned at them. "As long as you kids help me with the horses, I'll make out all right."
    "Oh, we will," Trixie assured him. "I'll make sure that Susie is exercised and groomed and everything every day." She moved closer to him. "Ah, please, Regan, tell me the secret."
    "Scat, all of you," he said, pretending to be very stern. "Next thing you know, Miss Trask will fire me for making you do my work!" Humming cheerfully, he climbed the stairs to his room.
    "Let's raid the icebox," Jim said, staring up at the third floor windows. "Celia and the cook have retired for the night. And, I trust, Nailor, too."
    "He's probably hiding in one of the empty guest rooms," Trixie said. "Just waiting until we all go to bed. Then," she added in an ominous whisper, "he'll sneak into your room, Jim, chloroform you, and—"
    "Stop it," Honey begged, shivering. "Do you really suspect Nailor again, Trixie?"
    "No, I don't," she said, laughing. They all trooped into the kitchen. Jim hooked the screen door.
    "Why don't you suspect him?" Honey asked. "You did once."
    "I didn't know he was such a well-known character in the village, then," Trixie said, accepting the bottle of cold soda Jim handed her. "Besides, he couldn't sneak into the house without arousing Patch. The dogs don't like him. They growl at him whenever he comes near them, and the hackles rise on Reddy's neck when he tries to