The Mystery of the Antique Doll

And we might just as well tell the truth. We’ll say that my little brother found the doll in the yard.”
    “You mean we’ll accuse Bobby?” Honey gasped.
    “Of course not!” Trixie said. “It doesn’t matter what we say, because I’m sure he won’t believe us. I’ll just tell the truth because it’s no more believable than anything else we could think up. Mr. Reid won’t care what we say. He wants that doll back very badly.”
    “You’re right about that,” Honey said ruefully.
    “Besides, I can’t imagine that he’d have us arrested for stealing a doll that was back in his possession,” Trixie said. “And he can’t very well call the police and tell them we stole a doll that just happened to have counterfeiting plates inside, can he? If he did that, then he’d have to be crazy.”
    “Or innocent,” Honey put in. Because it was getting late and cold, they pedaled along Glen Road as quickly as they could.
    “I’m not so sure he’s innocent,” Trixie said through clenched teeth. “Brrr. It’s awfully cold out. I’m afraid it’s time for us to put our bikes away for the winter.”
    They pedaled along in silence for a while, putting all their attention and energy into getting into a nice warm house. The wind had shifted and was now coming at them head on. Trixie’s eyes were beginning to tear. Raising her hand, she brushed away a tear that was blurring her vision, and the bike swerved slightly. As it swerved she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a blue sedan moving slowly behind them.
    “Pull over onto the shoulder, Honey,” she called ahead. “There’s a car that wants to pass.”
    Trixie and Honey pulled their bikes over to the side of the road. They went slowly, waiting for the car to pass. But the car stayed where it was, a short distance behind them. Trixie began to get annoyed because it was harder and slower pedaling off the smooth pavement. The dry grass was bumpy, and the pebbles slippery.
    “Well, why doesn’t he go by?” Honey yelled. “We’ll never get home at this rate.”
    But Trixie didn’t answer. She was thinking. She slowed down a bit more and turned her head, trying to see the driver. And what she saw confirmed her worst fears. Her heart thudded. She speeded up until she was riding right alongside of Honey.
    “Don’t look now,” she warned, “but it’s the red-haired man from Paris! He’s following us!”
    “What!” Honey gasped. “What do we do now? There’s .no way we can ditch him on these bikes!”
    “Yes there is. Now listen a minute. We just passed the Glen Road Inn, right? You know that trail that goes through the woods and lets out a little past my house on Glen Road? We’re going to try and get on it. He can’t follow us in the car, and we might be able to get away. Now, follow me, and ride as fast as you can!’’
    Trixie set off with a furious burst of speed. She rode the bike back onto the pavement, and pedaled hard. She knew she would soon see a slight thinning of the trees. She hoped against hope they could maneuver their bikes through the low underbrush and pick up the path. It was the only way to lose him!
    In order to catch them, their follower would have to pull his car off the road and go on foot through unfamiliar woods. Trixie knew the trail like the back of her hand, but a stranger would have difficulty following it—especially at night.
    Suddenly, Trixie hit a patch of gravel on the road, and the bike skidded. Trixie managed to right it, but not before it swerved and wobbled onto the shoulder. Honey, who was right behind her, tried to avoid Trixie but failed. With a sickening crunch, the two of them went down onto the grassy shoulder in a spinning pile of bicycle wheels, arms, legs, and school books.
    Trixie closed her eyes for a moment and prayed that the blue sedan would pass them. But her heart sank as she heard the sound of tires on gravel. The car pulled to a stop right in front of them, cutting off any escape.
    Trixie untangled herself as quickly as she could and stood up. She didn’t want to be lying in a heap when this strange man, whoever he was, came over to them.
    “Stand up, quick!” she told Honey. “We can still run if we have to!”
    Honey pulled herself out from under her bike, and the two of them watched as the door of the sedan swung open. A small pile of papers dropped out onto the ground and was immediately followed by two long legs.
    The red-haired man uncoiled himself slowly from behind