The Mystery of the Antique Doll

to break the cold north wind that blew all winter. Rhododendrons and azalea bushes snuggled up against the graceful porch, and a broad, curly maple tree grew on the front lawn.
    “Willy probably wishes he could find a nice rabbit to play with,” Honey said, as the surprisingly strong dog dragged her from one bush to the next, looking for good things to sniff.
    Willy led the girls to the south side of the property, and they found themselves standing about two hundred yards from The Antique Barn. Trixie and Honey stood there quietly, gazing wistfully at the warm yellow light that spilled from the windows. They could see someone moving inside.
    “Look, Honey. It’s open. Why don’t we stop in?” said Trixie, excitement mounting in her voice. “After we leave Mrs. De Keyser’s, we can have a quick look before we head home.”



3 * The Curious Antique Shop

    TRIXIE AND HONEY took Willy back inside, then made sure that everything Mrs. De Keyser would need the next day was within easy reach. They put the stew in several smaller containers in the refrigerator, and washed the heavy Dutch oven.
    “You girls have really done a wonderful job,” Mrs. De Keyser said as she gazed around her somewhat tidier house. “I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
    “Actually,” Trixie said, picking up her books, “you’ve taught us how to make a terrific stew.”
    “I’m going right home and write down the recipe,” Honey added. “I don’t think I ever smelled anything quite that good.”
    “Maybe our payment should be special cooking lessons,” Trixie suggested. “Not that we need any payment, of course.”
    “Dr. Ferris said you were sweet girls,” Mrs. De Keyser said as she walked them to the door. “But he didn’t say how sweet.” Willy started to bark as the girls stepped out onto the porch and said good-night.
    “He doesn’t want you to leave,” Mrs. De Keyser said. She bent down and patted Willy on the head. “Now don’t worry, the girls will be back day after tomorrow.”
    Willy kept barking furiously as the door closed, and Trixie skipped down the steps ahead of her friend.
    “Now, let’s take a quick look in The Antique Barn,” she whispered. “Oh, I hope it’s still open.”
    Honey and Trixie quickly crossed the lawn, and then walked along the few feet of road that separated them from the interesting little shop. They climbed the wooden steps
    in front, and gasped as they looked in the window.
    Behind the small leaded panes of the big bay window was a display of antique dolls and toys. Worn-out teddy bears leaned up against glamorous china-headed dolls and wooden trains. A good-sized dollhouse was set in the corner, and tiny little beaded lamps illuminated its little rooms. Further into the shop, they could see delicate pieces of furniture, oriental rugs, a lace-covered canopy bed, and iron pots and pans. Trixie felt a smile begin to crease her lips at the sight.
    Unable to resist, Trixie opened the door and the girls stepped into the cluttered shop. As the door shut behind them, a loud bell clanged in the back of the store.
    They stood uncertainly in the center of the large room for a moment, but no one appeared. They turned toward the window display to have a better look at the enchanting toys.
    Trixie put down her books and picked up an odd-looking contraption.
    “Look at this, Honey,” she whispered.
    “What do you think it could be?”
    Standing on a cast-iron base was a little iron man with his hand outstretched. A small cast-iron barrel stood on the base about two inches away from him.
    Honey was something of an expert on antiques. “I think it’s a bank,” she answered, after taking a closer look. “I saw one at the museum once. You’re supposed to put a penny on the man’s hand. Then you pull this lever, and he throws the coin into the barrel.”
    Amazed, Trixie replaced the bank, and looked around her.
    “Honey,” she said. “I think that one must be a bank, too!”
    On a shelf against the wall, between a wooden train set and a toy ship, stood another mechanical toy. On its small rectangular platform, an Indian knelt, facing a bear. The Indian held a gun.
    “I bet the Indian shoots the penny into the bear!”
    Honey laughed, and then turned to look at a small toy mule pulling a two-wheeled cart. She was about to wind the toy up just to see what it did, when suddenly they heard a noise behind them.
    “Can I help you?” came a low, gravelly voice.
    Both girls