The Mysterious Visitor

over the weekend? I wouldn’t be scared if you slept in my room with me at night. Please, Trixie, say you will."
    "I’d like to," Trixie said. "But I don’t think Moms would let me. Not unless your mother called her and said she wan ted. me an awful lot, and all that sort of thing. And I haven’t any clothes. Of course, Brian and Mart could bring me some tomorrow on the school bus."
    "Of course they could," Di cried enthusiastically. "I’ll go and ask my mother to call your mother right now." She darted off, and Trixie stood in the middle of the room, staring unseeingly out of the window.
    What would Uncle Monty do if he knew that both girls suspected him? Fifty thousand dollars was an awful lot of money. If he thought they might interfere with his scheme, wouldn’t he do everything he could to keep them from exposing him?
    Trixie quickly made up her mind. She would examine the contents of the terrace fireplace that very night just as soon as everyone, including Diana, was sound asleep.

"I’m Not Afraid!" • 14

    IT’S ALL SET," Di said when she came back from her mother’s room. "Mart’s biking in for some reason, but Brian is bringing your suitcase in the station wagon. He was going to drive in, anyway, so he can pick up your mother’s flowers and flower vases at the Garden Club."
    "Swell," Trixie said. "So Mart’s biking in, huh? I wonder why."
    "Is that so unusual?" Di asked. "When we were in grade school, Mart used to bike in and out almost every day. Remember?"
    Trixie laughed. "That was because he was forever missing the bus." She gave Di a hug. "Oh, Di, spending the night with you is so much fun. Why, it’s just like old times, isn’t it?"
    "Almost, but not quite," Di said. "Trixie, I hate this big house, and I don’t really like this room. I feel as though I were staying in a hotel."
    "Now you’re being silly, Di," Trixie said. "It’s a perfectly beautiful house with perfectly beautiful furnishings. And this room is super."
    "I like your room much better, Trixie," Di insisted. "It’s so small and cozy with that lovely hooked rug your grandmother made, that has all the colors of the rainbow in it, and the twin beds with their nice unbleached muslin spreads. At least, that’s the way I remember it."
    "It’s just the same," Trixie said, "except that it seems to get smaller every year. I’ve got so much junk in my closet I have to lean on the door with all my weight before I can close it."
    Di giggled. "I still would rather have a small room. And I’d rather live in a small house like yours."
    "Listen, Di," Trixie said seriously, "you’ve got to stop hating being rich. I can see why it’s a nuisance having a butler hovering around. And it’s a shame you practically never see your kid brothers and sisters. But you go around acting as though having a lot of money is something to be ashamed of. Honey and Jim are awfully rich, but you notice it doesn’t seem to bother them." Di nodded. "They’re used to it—at least, Honey is. I suppose I’ll get used to it eventually. But right now I can’t help thinking that none of the kids in our class at school like me. When we lived on Main Street, they used to drop in all the time. I hate living way out here away from everyone on this lonely country road."
    "The road we live on is pretty lonely, too," Trixie said, "and it’s just as far from the center of town. But, Di, where you live isn’t what makes people decide to like you or not like you."
    "That’s what Honey said," Di admitted. "When I spent the weekend with her and she spent the night with me, we talked a lot after we went to bed. She says that, until she met you and Jim, she went around being miserable all the time, so of course she wasn’t popular with other boys and girls. She says the reason my friends don’t come out here is that I don’t invite them."
    "That’s right," Trixie said. "You notice they all came to your Halloween party and had a wonderful time. Take me, for instance," she added with a chuckle. "Every time you’ve asked me I’ve accepted, haven’t I? But I’ll bet I never get invited again if I don’t get cleaned up before dinner. It’s almost eight."
    Di frowned at the clock on her desk. "I wish we didn’t have to see Uncle Monty. How are we going to keep our faces from showing what we know and how we feel about him?"
    "We’ll have to, that’s all," Trixie said. "Don’t look at me and don’t look at Uncle Monty. That’ll be the best way."
    "I wish