The Mysterious Visitor

Wilson,’ Trixie pointed out.
    "Which I very much doubt," Mart said. "I mean, not alive. If he is alive, why didn’t he get in touch with his sister long ago?"
    "He probably tried to," Di said, "but didn't get anywhere. When my grandparents died, the welfare people put my mother in a foster home. She used her foster parents’ last name until she married Dad. So, as far as my real uncle knew, she vanished while she was still a baby." "True," Mart said, "but last spring your whole family history appeared in both newspapers and magazines. If he’s alive, your uncle must have seen one of those stories."
    "The Monty we know saw them, all right," Trixie said. "My theory is that he met the real Monty out west somewhere about the same time those stories were published. Di’s uncle is probably a very nice person and didn’t want to get in touch with his sister then, after all those years, because it would look as though he hadn’t cared anything about her until her husband made a million dollars. So the Monty we know decided to impersonate him. But he didn’t know enough about Mrs. Lynch to convince her that he was her brother. So he came east and scouted around until he finally found that Olyfant was the man who could give him the information he needed." "That makes sense." Brian agreed. "I’ve been wondering why Monty risked going to Hawthorne Street after he showed up at the Lynches’. The answer is, of course, that he went back to pay Olyfant for the information."
    "But he hasn’t got the money from Mr. Lynch yet," Jim put in. "Has he, Di?"
    Di shook her head. "Mother gives him spending money, but she never has very much because she charges practically everything. Oh!" She dropped the marshmallow she had been toasting into the fire. "That explains the birds."
    Mart groaned. "The plot thickens. What birds?" "The china ones in the study," Di explained. "It’s a very valuable collection, but each bird alone is worth about a thousand dollars. The last time I looked at them I thought two or three were missing, but since I’ve never counted them I couldn’t be sure. Now I am sure," she finished, "and I’m going to tell Dad the minute he comes home."
    "That won’t do any good," Trixie said. "You can’t prove that Monty stole them. Even the police would have a hard time proving that. The birds could have been broken or stolen during the Halloween party."
    "Let’s get back to Olyfant," Honey interrupted. "How did he happen to have the information Monty wanted?"
    "There are records at the county courthouse, and he could have got a lot of dope from back numbers of The Sleepy side Sun." Jim patted Honey’s hand. "You’re too young and innocent to understand the nature of shady characters like Olyfant. They make it their business to know all there is to know about rich or famous people like the Lynches."
    "I still don’t understand," Honey said. "Newspapers and county clerks don’t give information to just anyone, especially not to shady characters." "But crooked politicians do," Jim said, grinning. "That’s right," Mart said. "I’ve been looking into Olyfant. He has been arrested dozens of times but never convicted of anything. That spells a crooked political connection in capital letters." Trixie leaned across Honey to tap Mart’s knee. "You have been looking into Olyfant? I thought you were of the opinion that Tom was talking through his hat the other night when he said he saw Uncle Monty at the station."
    "Not me," Mart said. "Tom taught Brian and me how to fish and shoot. We used to tag along after him when we were Bobby’s age. I can’t remember when I didn’t know that he had a photographic memory. Once he’s traveled over a route, Tom can tell you every single landmark on it, and he never forgets a face."
    "That’s absolutely true," Brian agreed. "And it’s why Tom makes such a good chauffeur. One reason. Another is that he’s as honest as the day is long."
    "I know," Honey and Jim said in die same voice. Jim added, "I don’t know why I was dumb enough to think that Tom had made a mistake about Uncle Monty." He clutched his red hair with both hands. "Wishful thinking, I suppose. I couldn’t bear the thought of Trixie dragging us right back into another mystery so soon after the last one was solved."
    "Same here," Brian said with a rueful chuckle. "But now I am in the mood for a mystery. And I think that under the circumstances, since time is of the essence, it’s up to us to prove Uncle Monty