The Mysterious Visitor

about that suitcase that she ignored Honey. She nudged Di again. "Are you deaf, Diana Lynch? Or has the cat got your
    tongue?"
    Di whirled away from the window then. Her violet eyes were filled with tears and her lips were trembling. "I said I didn’t want to talk about it here on the bus," she whispered hoarsely. "Anyway, Trixie Belden, you wouldn’t understand!"

A Mysterious Suitcase • 2

    THE BUS LUMBERED to a stop at the Beldens’ driveway. Trixie and her brothers got off. "I can t figure Di Lynch out," Trixie said to Mart as Brian hurried on toward the house. "There’s something mysterious about it," Trixie added, frowning. "Oh, no," Mart moaned. "Not another mystery!" "I don’t mean that kind," Trixie said. "I don’t think there’s a criminal connected with the mystery of why she’s so unhappy."
    "Of course there isn’t," Mart said. "She probably just imagines it. Girls are crazy like that." "But you didn’t hear what she said about her
    suitcase," Trixie said and explained. "Why should she have a fit about a simple thing like that? It just doesn’t make sense to me, Mart."
    Bobby, who had arrived on the grade-school bus a few minutes before, appeared then. He had entered the first grade that September and was very smug about it. "Hey," he greeted them. "I know who ’scovered ’Merica. Bet you don’t." Trixie started to hoot with laughter, but Mart nudged her with his elbow, and she quickly assumed a solemn expression. "Who did discover America, Bobby?" she asked.
    "C’lumbus," he yelled triumphantly. Then a frown puckered his sandy eyebrows. "What’s ’scover mean, Trixie?"
    "Well, you know what exploring means, don’t you?" she asked gravely.
    He shook his blond, silky curls. "You’re always ’sploring, Trixie. It means going into places where you’re not s’posed to go."
    Mart gurgled with suppressed laughter. "That’s an excellent definition of the kind of exploring Trixie does, but a more accurate definition is the word ‘trespassing.’ Isn’t that right, Trixie?"
    "Oh, don’t confuse him," Trixie cried impatiently. "You’ll get him all mixed up with those big words. Besides, the only time I ever trespassed in my life was up at the old Frayne Mansion, when
    I was trying to be helpful." She stooped to give Bobby a hug. "When Honey and I explored the Mansion, what did we find, Bobby?"
    "You founded Jim," he said.
    "That’s right," Trixie said. "But you could have said we discovered him."
    "Oh." Bobby blinked his round blue eyes. "Then C’lumbus founded ’Merica?"
    "Now I’m confused," Mart complained. "But you’ve got the general idea, Bobby. What else did you learn in school today?"
    But Bobby had a one-track mind. "If C’lumbus founded ’Merica," he asked suspiciously, "why didn’t the teacher say so?"
    "Because ‘discovered’ is the better word," Trixie said, beginning to lose patience. "Why don’t you explore your pile of junk in the garage and see if you can discover anything worth keeping?" She straightened and said to Mart, who was edging away, "In case you’ve forgotten, Dad said we had to clean out the garage this afternoon. He couldn’t get his car inside last night."
    Mart groaned. "I had forgotten until you brought the unpleasant subject up. Now that you mention it, I seem to recall that Fire Prevention Week looms in the immediate future. That means a scrap drive coming up soon. Right, Trix?"
    "You are so right," Trixie informed him.
    "Now, listen, Sis," Mart said placatingly, "you do my share. Jim, Brian, and I have to work on the clubhouse roof until it’s time to exercise the horses. At the rate we’ve been going since school started, it’ll be Christmas before we finish shingling it. It’s Indian summer now, but we’re due for rain, if not hail, snow, and sleet, around the middle of November."
    Trixie merely glared at him.
    "And," Mart continued, "since you are about as handy with hammer and nails as you are with thread and needles—"
    "Oh, all right!" Trixie hated to admit it, but she knew that Mart was right. They couldn’t do much about the interior of the clubhouse until the roof was finished. It was just one big room now with a dirt floor. The boys planned to partition off one end of it and line the walls in that section with shelves. Then they were going to make tables and benches for the conference room, and Honey had already bought material for curtains. They had started to work almost two months ago, when the club had been formed,