The Mystery of the Antique Doll

1 * The Doctor ’ s Request

    “OH, NOT AGAIN!” yelped fourteen-year-old Trixie Belden, as her books went crashing to the stairs. The flow of students leaving Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School stopped for barely a minute as Trixie tried to collect the scattered papers from her loose-leaf notebook. “That’s the second time today!”
    Irritably, Trixie pushed a short lock of sandy-blonde hair out of her eyes. She put the last book on the pile, and said, “I’m trying very hard to be organized, but how can I keep track of things if I constantly drop them?”
    Trixie’s best friend, Honey Wheeler, laughed. She gazed fondly at her friend as they went down the last few steps and into the main lobby of the school. When Honey and her parents had first moved to Sleepy-side-on-the-Hudson, Honey had been thin and shy. Now, after spending all her free time with Trixie Belden, she was a glowing picture of health.
    Honey was slightly taller than Trixie. Her shoulder-length, honey-blonde hair was always combed, and her school books were always organized. Neatness was one of the things she’d learned in the boarding schools she’d gone to before moving to Sleepyside. Together, Trixie and Honey had solved many mysteries, and they planned to open the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency someday. But first they had a few things to take care of, such as getting out the door with all their belongings intact.
    As they walked out of school into the late afternoon sunshine, Trixie squinted and raised her hand to shade her eyes.
    “There you are!” came a slightly mocking voice from behind them. “Procrastinating in the halls is hardly a sign of mental acuity!”
    “Oh, Mart,” Trixie said, with a grin. “Is Moms waiting for us? I was just looking for the car.” Mart was Trixie’s “almost twin” brother. They were eleven months apart and, even though Mart was older, people often mistook them for twins.
    “Why is Moms picking you up?” Mart asked, a look of surprise on his face. “Aren’t you two going to the staff meeting of the newspaper? It’s this afternoon, you know.”
    “I know,” Trixie answered, “but we’re going with Moms to see Dr. Ferris. Bobby has to have his checkup. He said he wouldn’t go unless Honey and I came, too.”
    “Would you explain to the others why we can’t make it?” Honey said sweetly. “And let us know if we have any assignments for the next issue.”
    “Your wish is my command,” Mart said, bowing low and making a sweeping motion with his arm. “Now that you mention it, I do remember something about a visit to the good Dr. Ferris being bruited about at the breakfast table this morning.”
    Mart gave Trixie an affectionate pat on the head—which he knew she hated—and disappeared into the school building. The late fall sun had sunk even lower, and Trixie again tried to find the Belden station wagon among the cars and buses parked in front of the school.
    “There they are!” Honey shouted suddenly, and the girls dashed over to the car.
    Helen Belden waved and smiled as she saw them approach. Then she turned to six-year-old Bobby Belden who was sitting in the back seat. His chubby, angelic face had a very gloomy expression on it. He didn’t even perk up when Honey stuck her head in the window to plant a kiss on his mop of blond curls.
    “I’m glad you took so long,” Bobby said, thrusting out his lower lip. “Now maybe I missed my appointment with the doctor.”
    “Not quite,” Mrs. Belden said, with a wink. “We still have plenty of time. Hop in, girls.”
    Trixie and Honey settled themselves in the back seat on either side of the grumpy little boy. Mrs. Belden started the engine, but before she could pull away from the crowded curb, the car was suddenly surrounded by three students wearing matching red jackets. Cross-stitched on the back of each jacket were the letters B.W.G.
    “Oh no,” Helen Belden moaned. “What next!”
    She smiled affectionately at the sight of her handsome, seventeen-year-old son Brian who was with two of his friends—Diana Lynch and Jim Fray ne.
    Jim’s full name was James Winthrop Frayne III. When his eccentric uncle died a few years before, he left Jim a half-million dollars in trust. But Jim was then living with his cruel stepfather, Jonesy, who wanted to steal Jim’s inheritance. Trixie had helped Jim get away from Jonesy. Then Honey’s parents adopted Jim, and now Jim was saving his inheritance to open a school for homeless