The Mystery of the Antique Doll

splendid time.” Trixie whirled around the living room with the vacuum cleaner as if it were a dancing partner. Willy, overexcited by all the giggling and silliness, jumped up onto the coffee table and grabbed the feather duster. Snarling happily at it, he dashed around the corner and went racing up the stairs.
    “Willy!” Honey shouted. “I saw that, you sneaky little dog! Come back here!”
    She dashed upstairs after him, and retrieved the duster before he could do any damage.
    “I believe he thought it was a chicken,” Honey joked. “I think we should take him out for a run to make up for the loss of the feather duster!”
    Trixie and Honey put on their jackets and ran all over the backyard with Willy. Hoping to exhaust him, they took turns running him from one side of the hedge to the other. But they only succeeded in exhausting themselves. Laughing and gasping for breath, they sank down on the lawn to rest. Trixie stuck her foot through the loop in Willy’s leash to prevent him from running off.
    “Now tell me again,” she panted. “What are we going to do when we get to France?”
    “Well, for one thing,” Honey said, “we’ll still be on New York time and we might be really tired. But we probably will want to go sight-seeing anyway. So first we’ll go on that glass-covered boat on the Seine, and then we’ll go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and then we’ll eat in a nice sidewalk cafe, and then we’ll go to this wonderful museum called the Louvre, and then—”
    “Stop!” Trixie said, falling over backwards in mock exhaustion. She flung her arms out on either side of her into a heap of dry leaves. “I can’t stand it. It’s too much. Paris! How lucky can I get?”
    “Did I hear you say Paris?” came a familiar gravelly voice from the hedge next to them. Willy started barking, but Honey stroked the little dog’s head, until he finally calmed down.
    “Why, hello, Mr. Reid,” Honey said sweetly. “Yes, we were talking about Paris.”
    “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation,” he said in an unusually friendly tone. He smiled warmly, and leaned forward a bit. “You wouldn’t happen to be going there soon, would you?”
    “As a matter of fact,” Trixie said haughtily, “we’re leaving tomorrow evening.”
    Remembering how nasty he had been to her the day before, Trixie wondered why Mr. Reid was so interested in their talk about Paris, and why he was being so nice all of a sudden. The other day he had thought she was nothing but a pesky teen-ager. Now, Trixie didn’t feel inclined to be polite. She wanted Mr. Reid to know she was a person to be reckoned with!
    “We happen to be flying to Paris in Mr. Wheeler’s private jet, Mr. Reid,” she continued, her nose held at a lofty angle.
    “How exciting for you girls,” Mr. Reid said in his most charming voice. “Have you been to Paris before?”
    Both Trixie and Honey answered at the same time. “Yes,” said Honey. “No,” said Trixie. And before they knew it, they were having a very chatty conversation about various galleries and restaurants that Mr. Reid felt they should visit.
    “Please call me Carl,” he said finally, after learning their names. “And now that I see what nice young ladies you are, I wonder if I might ask a favor of you?”
    Trixie tilted her head to one side, suddenly curious. She wondered what kind of favor he had in mind. Honey seemed to have no reservations, but she hadn’t been yelled at, either. In all the excitement, Trixie hadn’t gotten around to telling her the whole story of her disastrous encounter with Mr. Reid.
    “Of course,” Honey said. “If we can, we’d be happy to do a favor for you.”
    “Well, I know it might be a lot to ask,” Mr. Reid went on, “but you could be a great help to me. You see, a friend of mine has found the most exquisite antique doll. It’s now in Paris and I was planning to ship it air express. Unfortunately, so many things get broken when you ship them. They have no respect for other people’s property in those baggage areas.”
    Trixie nodded as she listened to Mr. Reid. She had heard other adults say that about freight depots.
    “I was just wondering,” he continued, “if it would be possible for you to bring the doll back to the United States for me? I would feel so much better knowing that it was in safe hands in a private plane, instead of being bounced around in the hold of one of those jumbo jets. She’s absolutely