The Gatehouse Mystery

Cook and I were just saying we'd like nothing better than to spend the afternoon and evening in our cool sitting room watching television."
    "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."
    "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 Brian. "I can guess who, or should I say whom, Celia had in mind; can't you?"
    Brian chuckled. "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 paintbrush, 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," Brian 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. 1 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. "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 Id forgotten to bring any money. Tom lent me some so I could pay the cab and buy a ticket."
    "I remember that time," Miss Trask said, smiling. "I hope you remembered to pay him back, Honey."
    "Oh, I did," Honey said as they 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. "Rude to Trixie? Honey, why didn't you tell me that before?"
    "It doesn't matter at all, Miss Trask," Trixie said hastily. "It really doesn't. 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,