The Mystery of the Antique Doll

interviewing the butcher,” Honey said, trying to suppress a giggle. “He’s going to say, ’I buy lots of turkeys at Thanksgiving and lots of hams at Christmas, and thank you very much but I most definitely don ’ t want to take out an ad in the Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School newspaper!’ ”
    Trixie waved to her friend as Honey skipped up the road. Then she turned her attention to the task at hand—Mr. Carl Reid and his antique store!
    Her heart beat fast as she went next door to the shop. But her excitement quickly turned to dismay when she saw the “Closed” sign hanging in the window. It’s not even late, she thought grumpily. How on earth does Mr. Reid ever expect to make any money if he doesn’t keep his shop open?
    Pressing her face against the glass-paned door, she tried desperately to see inside the darkened shop. There was a tiny light on in the back. She pulled at the bell rope and banged on the door, but no one answered.
    I just know someone’s back there! Trixie thought. But whoever it is just isn’t in the mood to answer the doorbell. She knocked loudly a few more times, and then sat down on the step disconsolately. But she was deterred for only a minute. Why not just go around to the back and check to see if anyone’s there? she asked herself. After all, my name wouldn’t be Trixie Belden if I just sat on the steps and did nothing.
    Trixie picked up her books, and marched around to the back of the shop. Small windows were set rather low in the side and back of the wooden building, and the rear door was the old-fashioned Dutch kind. The top could swing open separately from the bottom, but today they were both shut, and locked.
    Trixie pressed her face against one of the small windows and tried to make out the objects in the dimly lit room. A bare overhead bulb gave off enough light for her to distinguish some of the shapes. She could see a small Queen Anne sofa, with springs popping through the horsehair. There was also a pile of old leather-bound books atop a handsome bureau with brass drawer pulls. Farther in the corner, she could see an old record player—the kind with a horn—sitting on what appeared to be an antique printing press.
    Trixie knocked on the window, but it was obvious the store was empty. Too bad! Trixie thought sadly. This would have been a perfect opportunity to do the interview—if only someone were here to answer the questions!
    Deciding to give up and go home, she turned and found herself face to face with Mr. Reid.
    “What do you mean snooping around here!” he shouted.
    “I was just...” Trixie stammered, trying to collect her thoughts.
    But evidently, Mr. Reid wasn’t through with his tirade.
    “You have some nerve, kid,” he yelled. “You know, trespassing is against the law around here!”
    Trixie stood rooted to the spot.
    “But I wasn’t—I mean, I wanted to talk to you. I was just looking...”
    Her voice trailed off as she saw the unreasoning anger on Mr. Reid’s face.
    “Listen, kid, don’t poke your nose into other people’s business, you got that?”
    “Yes, sir, but—”
    “But nothing. Now please leave!”
    Trixie didn’t waste any more time trying to explain. She turned and ran down Glen Road as fast as she could. She didn’t stop running until she reached the driveway of Crabapple Farm.
    She was frightened, but angry too. After all, she thought, as she tried to catch her breath, what’s a person supposed to do in an antique shop? Snoop and browse, that’s what! What a horrible man!
    Trixie stomped into the house and dropped her books on the hall table. Without even taking off her coat, she rushed over to the telephone and called Honey. She could hardly wait to hear the excuses Honey would come up with this time for Mr. Reid’s impossible behavior.



5 * An Unusual Favor

    TRIXIE TRIED to tell Honey about Mr. Reid, but never got a word in edgewise. The minute Honey heard her voice on the telephone, she started talking.
    “Oh Trixie, I was about to call you! You’ll never guess what!” Honey’s voice was a high-pitched rush of excitement. “Daddy and Mommy have just given me the most wonderful news!”
    “Quick, tell me!” Trixie gasped, instantly forgetting why she’d called Honey in the first place.
    “Well,” Honey went on breathlessly, “you know how this is a long weekend because of the teacher conferences? Well, Daddy has to go to Paris, and guess what? They said they’re so proud of me for being a