The Mystery of the Antique Doll

turning back. “I don’t see anyone by the vendor.”
    “He’s wearing a trench coat and has red hair and bushy eyebrows,” Trixie whispered.
    Honey didn’t see anyone fitting that description. When Trixie turned around, she didn’t see a trace of the man either.
    “Hurry up, girls,” Mrs. Wheeler called. “We’re about to board!”
    Trixie took one last look around, but the mysterious stranger had vanished.
    In a matter of moments, they were climbing the metal steps to the plane. As Trixie settled in and fastened her seat belt, she wondered if perhaps she’d been wrong. But in a few seconds, it wouldn’t matter anyway. They were leaving Paris and the strange red-haired man behind.



7 * A Suspicious Stranger

    TRIXIE SLEPT right through the six-hour flight back to Westchester Airport. She was still drowsy when she went through customs. Because of the time difference, she was home in the cozy living room of Crabapple Farm by 7:30 Monday evening. She was so tired she almost fell asleep in the middle of reading Bobby his bedtime story. The next morning, however, she felt completely refreshed.
    “Brian, do you think you could help us this afternoon?” Trixie asked at breakfast.
    “Of course,” Brian answered as he finished off his third piece of toast. “What can I do to help our new member of the jet set?”
    “Well, the problem is that we have to bring Carl Reid the antique doll we picked up for him in Paris. But I don’t think we should take it to school with us,” Trixie explained. “I was sort of hoping you would drive us over there in the Bob-White station wagon this afternoon.”
    “Sure thing. I’ll meet you two when you get off the school bus,” Brian said. “But, just one question. Why did you do a favor for Mr. Reid? And who is Mr. Reid anyway?”
    “Oh, Brian, you know who he is!” Trixie groaned. “He’s the owner of that new antique store. He just asked us to pick up this doll while we were in Paris.”
    “Well, if you didn’t mind picking it up,” Brian said, “I don’t mind dropping it off. It just seems like an odd thing to do on your weekend in Paris.”
    “It was no trouble at all,” Trixie said airily. But she realized that she wanted to discuss the red-haired man with Brian. “I would like to talk to you about it later if you have some time, though.”
    “Problems?” Brian asked, suddenly concerned.
    “Not really,” Trixie answered, gazing at him fondly. “Just some questions, that’s all.”
    Mart came into the kitchen.
    “You guys are going to miss the bus, if you don’t stop colloquializing,” he reminded them.
    “Oh, thanks for telling us,” Trixie said. She grabbed her jacket and slipped it over her shoulders. She and Brian quickly collected their books and ran out the door. They all got to the end of the driveway just as the school bus rounded the corner.
    During lunch, Trixie told Honey that Brian would drive them to The Antique Barn after school. Honey, who had put the package in her closet, was delighted at the news.
    “I was wondering how we’d get the doll to Mr. Reid without taking it to school first,” she said, greatly relieved.
    “Well, if it weren’t for the Bob-White station wagon,” Trixie said, “we’d really have a problem.”
    The bell rang, and babbling voices, scraping chairs, and shuffling feet made further conversation next to impossible.
    “See you on the bus,” Trixie said, and she made her way to her next class.
    True to his word, Brian met them with the station wagon when they got off the bus. They drove to the Manor House to get the doll, and then went on to The Antique Barn.
    “I’ll wait out here for you,” Brian said, when they pulled into the small parking area by Mr. Reid’s antique store. “I’d rather listen to the radio than a whole bunch of chit-chat about dollies.”
    Trixie laughed. “We’re only going to be gone a minute.”
    Pleased at having accomplished their mission in Paris, Trixie and Honey walked sedately into The Antique Barn carrying the box.
    Carl Reid immediately took it from them, and carried it to his desk without a word. Quickly ripping off the wrapping paper, he slid back the top. He reached inside and roughly pulled the doll out of the box. While Honey and Trixie watched in amazement, he sqeezed the doll’s arms, torso, and dress. Then, with a satisfied smile, he set the doll down on his desk and turned to the girls.
    “Is anything broken?” Honey asked, looking