The Indian Burial Ground Mystery

1 * The Archaeologist
     
    “Well,” Trixie sighed gloomily,
“I guess I won’t have to worry about my summer job. I just know I flunked the
math final, so I’ll probably be in summer school.”
    “Trixie Belden!” snapped her dearest friend Honey Wheeler with mock
irritation. “If you tell me you failed the math final one more time, I’m not
going to talk to you until we get our grades. You know perfectly well you never
fail anything.”
    “There’s always a first time,” the sandy-haired, fourteen-year-old said
mournfully as they walked up the driveway to Crabapple Farm, where the Belden family
lived.
    There were only a few more days of school left, and the two girls had
been trying to line up summer jobs. It was going to be easy, though. In past
summers, Trixie and Honey had volunteered as candy stripers at Sleepy-side Hospital , and they expected to work
there again this year.
    “What do you think Mart and Brian will do this summer?” asked Honey,
trying to get off the subject of the math final as tactfully as possible.
    “They’re looking for part-time jobs,” Trixie replied.
    Mart and Brian Belden were Trixie’s older brothers. Brian, the oldest of
the Belden children, was a junior at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High
School . He was serious and hard-working, and he
planned to go to medical school after college. Mart was Trixie’s “almost twin.”
He was only eleven months older than Trixie, and he loved to tease her. Bobby
was the baby of the family.
    The blond-haired six-year-old came running down the driveway to meet the
girls. His cheeks were rosy from the heat, and his eyes were glistening.
    “What took you so long?” he gasped. “Moms says that you and Honey have
to go straight over to the Manor House. I’m going to make my own garden. Reddy
and me started working already.” Reddy was the family’s Irish setter.
    “Why should we go to the Manor House?” Honey asked, bending to plant a
kiss on Bobby’s damp, curly hair. “Is there a problem?”
    “I don’t know,” Bobby chortled. He spun around in the driveway and began
a little hopping dance. “Reddy and me dug a big hole today. Moms says I can
grow my own garden because Reddy cleared away the vines for me. You wanna
help?”
    “Of course,” Honey said with a smile.
    “But first,” Trixie interrupted, “we’d better get over to the Manor
House and see what Miss Trask wants. Wait for me while I drop off my books,
Honey. I’ll be back in a flash.”
    Trim, middle-aged Miss Trask had been a math teacher at Honey’s boarding
school until the Wheelers bought the Manor House in Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson.
They’d hired Miss Trask to be Honey’s governess. When Honey got too old to need
a governess, Miss Trask became the manager of the Wheeler estate. Since the
Wheelers traveled frequently, the arrangement worked out perfectly. She was
cheerful and efficient—and Honey adored her.
    Trixie dashed up the driveway of Crabapple Farm, past the row of
crabapple trees and the fenced-in garden. The two-story, white farmhouse
nestled comfortably in a wooded hollow. Hurrying up the porch steps, she
dropped her books on the glider, then turned to run back.
    “Trixie?” a melodic voice called from inside. “Is that you?”
    “Yes, Moms,” Trixie answered.
    “Did Bobby give you the message?”
    “Yes, he did. I’m on my way.”
    “Don’t stay long. I need your help in the kitchen tonight.”
    “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Trixie called over her shoulder. Then
she launched herself off the porch and started back. Honey and Bobby were
scratching letters in the dirt when she came up to them. By now, Trixie was
panting and red-faced. Sighing at how cool and collected Honey looked with her
shoulder-length, blonde hair and her crisp blouse and skirt, Trixie ran her
fingers through her short, untameable curls. But it
wasn’t much use.
    “You were probably born neat,” she groaned as Honey straightened up.
“You never, ever look messy the way I do.”
    “First of all, you don’t look messy. And second of all, I didn’t just
run up and down the driveway in this heat,” Honey answered with a laugh.
“Ready?”
    “Willing and able,” Trixie replied. “See you later, Bobby.”
    “I wonder what’s going on?” Trixie asked as the two girls quickly walked
along Glen Road and up the long, winding driveway to the Manor House.
    “I don’t know,” Honey answered as the elegant mansion came into view,
“but it looks