The Mysterious Code

anything
about it. Just a minute.”
    “He isn’t very cooperative,”
Mrs. Wheeler said, aside, to the girls as she waited while the sergeant
searched the records.
    “Hmmm—let me see,”
he said. “Yes, here it is... Spencer, Manor House... no, this is a report of a
horse stolen, then recovered. Thats all, Mrs. Wheeler. There’s nothing else
under Spencer. Try the Sleepyside Sun. The editor may remember something
about it. He’s owned the newspaper in town for well over thirty years now.”
    Mrs. Wheeler thanked
the sergeant and hung up the receiver.
    “Are you going to
call the Sun?” Trixie asked. “Here’s the number,” she said. “Sleepyside
nine-six-eight-seyen-zero.”
    Mrs. Wheeler dialed.
Again the girls listened. The editor had never heard a report of any missing
jewels.
    “It sounds like a
good feature story for the newspaper, however,” he said. “Do you mind if I send
a photographer and a reporter out to see the jewel box? Maybe we could get a
picture of the Bob-White club members.”
    “I’ll have to ask
the girls about it first,” Mrs. Wheeler told him. “I’ll turn the receiver over
to Trixie Belden. She’s co-president of the club.” Trixie held a quick
conference with the other girls.
    “It’ll be good
publicity for the antique show,” she whispered. “Let’s tell him he may go
ahead, shall we?”
    The girls gave quick
consent, and Trixie ended the conversation.
    “Well, now, what
shall we do with the musical jewel box?” Trixie asked.
    “After the story is
printed in the newspaper,” Mrs. Wheeler said, “someone may claim it, though how
it got in our attic I’ll never know.”
    “And if someone
doesn’t claim it?” Trixie asked. “I should think it would belong to the
Bob-Whites,” Mrs. Wheeler said, smiling. “Remember, I said you might have
anything you found in that room in the attic. Let’s just wait and see what
happens. Yes, what is it, Celia?”
    “A woman who says
she is Mrs. Spencer wants to speak to you on the telephone,” the maid said.
“Jeepers, what now?” Trixie asked.
    “Come with me, and
I’ll let you listen,” Mrs. Wheeler said.
    “I’ve been trying to
call you for half an hour,” Mrs. Spencer said, “but the line has been busy. Did
the girls possibly find that jewel box in an old doll trunk?”
    “Yes! Yes!” Trixie
shouted into the receiver. “That was Trixie Belden,” Mrs. Wheeler explained.
“The girls were so excited when they knew it was you calling that I’m letting
them listen. Yes, they did find the jewel box in a doll’s trunk. Why?”
    “You’ll never
believe it,” Mrs. Spencer said. “It’s the strangest thing. One of my daughters
is visiting me. She lives in Canada now. When I told her about my telephone
conversation with you, she remembered something that happened when she and my
other daughter were little girls.”
    “Why doesn’t she go
ahead and tell it?” Trixie said in a loud whisper.
    Mrs. Spencer
laughed. “Tell her I’m trying to tell the story,” she said. “You know Mr. and
Mrs. Frayne used to live in Ten Acres, near us. They didn’t have any children
and often invited my little girls to come over to their house to play.
Margaret, my older daughter, who is here with me now, said Mrs. Frayne used to
let them play with the musical jewel box.
    “One day, when Mrs.
Frayne was packing to go to Europe with Mr. Frayne, the girls were there. As
usual, Mrs. Frayne gave them the musical jewel box to play with. When I sent
for them to come home, they brought it with them. I hate to tell you the
rest...
    “Go on! Go on!”
Trixie begged.
    “Margaret says she
is sure they had no idea of the value of the box—they were only about ten and
eight years old at the time. Well, Mrs. Frayne went to Europe, and the girls
forgot to return the box. They were afraid I’d scold them if I found it in
their room, so they decided to hide it in the attic. They had been using that
old alphabet for some time to write notes to one another. That is why they put
the message on the key tag. I guess all little girls like mysteries.
    “That’s the story. I
don’t believe Mrs. Frayne ever mentioned the jewel box; certainly not in
connection with my daughters. It’s all very strange.”
    “Then, Mother,”
Honey said when the conversation ended, “if the jewel box and rings belonged to
    Mrs. Frayne, they
belong to Jim now, don’t they?”
    “I suppose they do,”
Mrs. Wheeler agreed, “since his uncle, James