The Mysterious Visitor

Then, remembering that "little pitchers have big ears," she said to Bobby, "Why don’t you go to the garage and see what Tom Delanoy is doing? You haven’t seen him in ages." "Don’t want to," Bobby said, squeezing Regan’s soapy sponge with both plump hands. "I’m going to stay here and holp Regan."
    "Not today you aren’t," Regan said firmly. "You go next door and ‘holp’ Tom. He’s washing the cars. That’s more fun than cleaning leather." "Okeydokey," Bobby said and scampered off toward the garage.
    As soon as he was out of earshot, Regan said to Trixie, "Now, listen, if you’re off on one of your mysteries again, let me warn you. Nice people like that Lynch girl don’t have uncles who are crooks. Mr. Wilson is just one of those harmless? little guys who likes to hear himself talk. Eccentric, you might call him, but aren’t we all? You and your brother Mart, for instance, are as crazy i as June bugs, and do you think anyone in his right mind would stick around here as long as I have? Ever since you arrived on the scene, they should have changed the name from the Manor House to the Madhouse!"
    Trixie giggled. "I guess you’re right. The trouble with me is that I have a suspicious nature."
    "That you have," Regan said, grinning. "I got to know Di Lynch pretty well yesterday when I was giving her a riding lesson. She’s got enough troubles without you sleuthing around after her uncle. Right now you think he’s an impostor, don’t you?" he finished abruptly.
    Trixie nodded.
    "Well, leave that up to Mr. Lynch," Regan said sternly. "He’s no fool. Nobody who could make a million dollars as fast as he did could be."
    "I guess you’re right," Trixie said again. "I was just thinking—"
    "Don’t," Regan interrupted. "Don’t think. Every time you do, this place is swarming with state troopers and G-men."
    Just then Di and Honey came into the tack room, arm in arm. Honey gave Trixie a quick, questioning look and asked, "How are you, Regan?"
    At that the groom emitted a loud groan and stalked away.
    "Oh, dear," Honey sighed. "Uncle Monty did make Regan mad, didn’t he, Trixie?"
    "No," Trixie said. "Everything is just fine. He’s crazy about your uncle, Di."
    "I don’t believe it," Di said in amazement. "Nobody could be crazy about Uncle Monty. Oh, Mother loves him, of course, but what I mean is— a man like Regan! You just can’t make me believe you, Trixie Belden. Regan couldn’t possibly even like Uncle Monty."
    Trixie said nothing as the girls linked arms and strolled back up to the veranda.
    To change the subject, tactful Honey said, "We’ve got an awful lot to do this weekend, Di. We’ve not only got to make plans for your Halloween party, but we’ve got to write those compositions for our English class. What are you going to say in your theme, Di?"
    "I haven’t given it much thought," Diana admitted. "We didn’t do anything exciting last summer."
    "Why, Di!" Honey cried. "It was your red trailer that disappeared so mysteriously. I’d certainly call that incident exciting!"
    "I know," Di said. "But you and Trixie will tell about that. I didn’t have a thing to do with solving the mystery."
    "Don’t be silly," Trixie said generously. "That story is yours, all yours. If you haven’t got the newspaper clippings, Honey and I will be glad to lend you our scrapbooks, won’t we, Honey?" "Do you really mean it?" Di asked.
    "Of course we mean it," Honey said as they settled down in the glider. "Trixie and I have so much to write about we hardly know where to begin. Let’s do our themes right now while we’re all together. It’ll be fun!"
    "Not with Bobby in our hair," Trixie objected. "Every time we try to put two words together into a sentence, he’ll interrupt. I know that fiend. You never can find him when you want to give him a bath or put him to bed. But just try to hide from him! He’s got the nose of a bird dog, or maybe I mean a bloodhound."
    Diana giggled, and Trixie could see that she was beginning to relax. "I’ll go play hide-’n’-seek with Bobby right now," she offered. "Then you girls can write your themes in peace. I wouldn’t want to borrow your scrapbook," she said to Honey, "until you’re through with it. I’m sure it must be filled with newspaper clippings which you and Trixie will need."
    The rest of the weekend went smoothly. Di insisted upon taking care of Bobby as her initiation, and Honey kept her company most of Saturday while she made Diana a red jacket