The Mystery of the Castaway Children

finished boldly, “Now I’d like to know the names of the people who handled the Dodge auction.”
    “Durham and Durham, Elmer and Mike,” the sergeant said tersely. “Their clerks are Jeff and Roger Higgins.”
    “Where do they live?”
    “In Sleepyside. David Dodge does all his business in Sleepyside. Don’t concern yourself with them. We’ve had a tail on Elmer Durham ever since this case broke. So far as we can tell, he’s clean, and so’s his organization.”
    “Including the clerks?” Trixie asked.
    “Jeff Higgins has been in the business as long as I’ve been on the police force. He’s training his son now. They’re bonded.”
    “That doesn’t keep them honest forever,” Trixie said.
    “True. In fact, we’re finding out that Roger Higgins may not be the solid citizen we know his father to be. Steer clear of the whole bunch!
    Oh, and by the way, congratulations on making the connection with the auction.”
    “Thank you,” Trixie said. “I got to thinking how strange it was to ask for twenty thousand from a man going broke, when there are so many kids in mansions in this area. Seems to me it must be someone not used to thinking about money in large amounts, but not above grabbing for all he can get.”
    “Mmm” was the police officer’s noncommittal answer.
    When Trixie hung up, she said the same thing. She’d have to store all these tidbits until the next day. She was certainly too exhausted to think any more that night.
    For the first time, Dodgy slept through his night feeding. He let the household know it, loud and clear, right on the dot of six o’clock the next morning.
    Trixie woke up when Brian’s feet hit the floor with a thump. She rushed to help. “You get Dodgy’s milk, and I’ll dress him,” she offered, taking the baby from his basket.
    By this time, Dodgy was strong enough to empty his bottle in ten minutes. Brian set the basket in a protected area by the kitchen hutch.
    Every Belden stopped by the basket to smile and coo at Dodgy even before they greeted each other. The by now familiar morning routine made Trixie’s heart hurt when she thought of the Dodges.
    She felt herself balancing on a high teeter-totter. She knew Dodgy could not be left alone for a minute. On the other hand, she simply had to make that trip to the old Dutch barn as soon as possible. It would take forever to get to the barn on a bicycle. To make a decent search was going to take even more time. How was she to manage?
    While Trixie fretted, the telephone rang. Mart took the call. It was Di. From his expression, it was apparent that she was asking if she could come for breakfast. “Dost thou need a chariot?” he asked finally.
    Evidently not, for he hung up an instant later. Then he reported the conversation, ending with, “She said she doesn’t eat much, so don’t dither, Moms.” Instead of pulling out his chair, he tilted it backward between his long legs and dropped onto it with a plop. With no lost motion, his right hand reached for the toast, his left for the honeypot.
    “Good coordination,” remarked Peter Belden dryly.
    Mart frowned critically. “But lacking in finesse,” he decided.
    His mother lifted runaway blond curls from her warm brow, cast an amused glance at the little scene, and reached for her breadboard.
    Suddenly a load was lifted from Trixie’s shoulders. Di was coming! She would take care of Dodgy and love every minute of it.
    Without waiting for Di to arrive, Trixie gulped down her breakfast and went to call Honey. Then she went outside to wait for her. Unexpectedly, Honey arrived with Jim in the Bob-White station wagon.
    “I thought you had to work at the stable,” Trixie said to Jim.
    “I did,” he answered, “but I got up a few hours early. When I thought of all the miles you were going to have to pedal, I decided I could miss some sleep and help you out.”
    “I’m so glad,” Trixie said earnestly. “We have a deadline—nine o’clock tonight.”
    Briefly she filled in Honey and Jim on her latest theory about the would-be kidnapper having something to do with the auction.
    “Sounds like a reasonable hypothesis,” Honey agreed slowly.
    Trixie sighed. “Dad said something like that, too.”
    “He meant, and we mean,” Jim said, “that you’ve made several assumptions that remain to be proved. As I see it, the sooner we find Davy, the better off everyone will be.”
    “Jim’s right,” said Honey, starting to get back inside the station