The Mystery of the Antique Doll

up to my room! I want to show you all my new stuff!”
    “Oh, Bobby,” said Trixie. “I thought we just cleaned up your room! Don’t tell me you brought in a whole bunch of new junk!”
    “It’s not junk!” Bobby retorted. “And besides, after we cleaned up so nicely, there was lots more room in there for good stuff!”
    “Dinner!” Helen Belden called from the kitchen. “And I need someone to finish setting the table. Where are all my helpers anyway? I feel like the Little Red Hen in here all by myself. No one wants to help me make supper, but they certainly want to help me eat it!”
    “Sorry, Moms,” Trixie called. “I’ll be right there. I just want to hang up my jacket and wash up.”
    “All right, dear,” Mrs. Belden answered. “But hurry. I’d like the table set before we sit down, not after we finish.”
    Trixie set the table, and after dinner it was her turn to do the dishes. It was Mart’s turn to read Bobby his bedtime story, so Trixie got a chance to sit down with her pesky geometry problems—something she desperately needed to do. After getting Brian to explain isosceles and equilateral triangles for tomorrow’s math test, she was finally able to get ready for bed.

    The next day, Trixie caught up with Honey in the hall after their last-period class.
    “Oh boy,” she sighed. “That test was pretty bad. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to take math at all.”
    “Don’t worry so much, Trixie,” Honey said, with a smile. “You always think you’ve failed those tests, and somehow you always manage to pass.”
    “I know, I know,” Trixie said as they slammed their lockers closed and walked out to catch the school bus. “But one of these days, I may be right. Then will I ever be in trouble!”
    “Well, worry about that when it comes,”
    Honey said. “You’re doing fine now.”
    As they strolled along the broad walkway in front of the school, Trixie suddenly heard a loud voice call their names.
    “Miss Belden! Miss Wheeler! I think we’d better have a talk, young ladies!”
    Trixie spun around, and stood face to face with a very angry-looking Carl Reid.
    “My goodness, Mr. Reid,” she said, trying to smile despite the sinking feeling she had after seeing his expression. “What’s the matter?”
    “The French doll is missing, and I have reason to believe that you two stole it!” came the grating reply. He held a slip of paper out so she could see it clearly. “Does this look familiar to you?”
    Amazed, Trixie saw that it was a hall pass from school.
    “I found this hall pass with your name on it right outside the back door of my shop. That door was open, and the doll was gone. Your only mistake was leaving a perfect clue lying on the ground.”
    “B-But, Mr. Reid,” Honey stammered. “We didn’t take the doll!”
    “I don’t have to listen to your lying excuses, you little thieves,” Mr. Reid said angrily. “I know why you spent all that time hanging around my store! You just wanted to steal something, that’s all!”
    “We haven’t seen the doll since we brought it to you last week!” Trixie protested, shocked at his accusation. “And yesterday we were looking for Mrs. De Keyser’s dog near your store—that’s when the pass must have fallen out of—”
    “A likely story, girls!” the angry man snapped. “You wretched teen-agers are all alike! Just no good. And believe me, I am not fooled by your innocent act!”
    “We’ll help you find the doll, but, honestly, Mr. Reid, we didn’t—”
    “That’s absolutely right, girls. You will help me find that doll, because you’re the ones who stole it.” Mr. Reid began to walk away. But before he’d gone more than two feet, he stopped and whirled back to them. “And I’m going to press charges against you if that doll isn’t back in my hands by tomorrow afternoon. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
    And with that, he stormed off and got into his car. The engine roared to life, and then the Mercedes-Benz screeched out of the school parking lot.
    Shocked, and unable to move, Trixie and Honey stood glued to the spot. Then Trixie realized that school buses were beginning to pull out, and they ran for the Glen Road bus. On the way home they tried to think of some way to clear themselves. Of course they hadn’t stolen the doll, but they might not be able to prove it to Mr. Reid or to anyone else for that matter.
    They got off the bus filled with dread.
    “I’ll call you later, okay?” mumbled