The Indian Burial Ground Mystery

in the room. Trixie and Honey both
jumped, startled by the unexpected noise.
    “It’s only the window,” Trixie whispered with a sigh of relief. “The
wind must have rattled it.”
    Sure enough, a small window located high up on the wall was swinging
loose from its top hinges. The window lock was knocking against the metal mount
that secured it when it was closed.
    “That window wasn’t open before,” Trixie said suspiciously.
    Suddenly Trixie noticed that one of the chairs had been pulled over to
the window. She quickly stepped up on the seat. Gripping the bottom of the
window jamb with both hands, she was able to pull herself up for a better look
outside.
    “Look!” she gasped. “Someone’s running across the lawn.” Honey quickly
joined her on the chair.
    Sure enough, a dark-haired man was running across the back lawn, heading
for the thick underbrush that surrounded the old building. Trixie could see
that he was carrying something small, rectangular, and brown in his hand.
    “Hey, you!” Trixie yelled. “Come back with that!”
    But the man didn’t stop or turn around.
    “That’s it!” she screeched. “I bet that was Charles! He stole the diary.
Harry was parked outside when I came out. He probably told
    Charles I was gone for good so he could continue working with the book.
When Charles heard us coming, the only escape was out the window. That’s why
the chair was pulled over.”
    “Let’s follow him,” Honey said quickly. The two girls raced up the
stairs, out the door, and around to the back of the building. But the man had
disappeared.
    “I’m sure it was Charles Miller,” Trixie said, more calmly this time.
“That diary was exactly what he was after. He probably found the map when he
was in the archive room this morning with Brian. But he couldn’t steal it under
Brian’s nose, so he had to come back for it.”
    “Let’s double-check,” Honey said reasonably. “It’s possible that the
diary or the map is still there. Maybe that wasn’t what he was carrying at
all.”
    “Maybe you’re right,” Trixie said.
    They went back into the building, passing Jake Hanson on the way. He
smiled happily at them and nodded.
    “Just let me know when you’re through,” he called after them. “It’s
almost closing time, but enjoy your history!”
    Back in the room, faced with the rows and rows of books, Trixie realized
the task might be impossible. She worried that Jake Hanson had perhaps put the
book away, and that she’d lose time looking for it. Then, seeing the yellow pad
on the chair, Trixie had an idea. I wonder... she thought.
    Using her pencil, she began to rub the side of the lead lightly across
the pad. As she covered the entire page with graphite, delicate white lines
began to appear. It was a handmade copy of the map!
    “Look at this, Honey,” Trixie said. “This is the map! Whoever was down
here made a copy of it, just the way I was going to. I bet when he heard us
coming back, he grabbed his copy of the map along with the book, so we wouldn’t
be able to make a copy of our own.”
    “That’s it?” Honey said, looking at the faint outlines Trixie had
revealed with her pencil rubbing.
    “That’s it!” Trixie replied proudly. “Charles didn’t know I could make a
rubbing of the impression a pencil makes through a sheet of paper. An old
detective trick!”
    “What’s that word?” Honey asked as she studied the pale rubbing. “The X
and the roads are clear, but those roads could be anywhere.”
    Trixie thought hard for a moment, trying to remember.
    “I’ve got it. The map had only one word on it— Depew .
Now all we have to do is find out if that’s the name of someplace around here.”
    “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name,” Honey pondered. “The map may
not be of this area.”
    “No,” Trixie countered. “I think the map is of someplace nearby. That’s
why Charles and Harry are interested in it.”
    “Maybe we should go back to the library. The librarian might be able to
help us.”
    “Good idea,” Trixie said. “We’d better close and lock the window,
though. It looks like it might rain.”
    The girls locked the little window, and moved the chair back to the
table where it belonged.
    “I’m going to take this pad,” Trixie said as they closed the door behind
them. “I need proof that I made a rubbing of the map.”
    “Right. And we could also use it to make notes on,” Honey suggested.
    Trixie and Honey slowly climbed the