The Mystery of the Emeralds

didn’t blush even a little bit,” Honey said warmly. “Now, what’s the next step?”
    Trixie looked at her wristwatch, and then, after a moment, she answered, “Why don’t we bike up to Croton, take a look at Revolutionary Road, and see if we can find where Miss Julie fives? We can go to the library tonight.”
    “That’s a wonderful idea! Croton’s only a few miles from Sleepyside, and the exercise will do us good,” Honey answered. “We’ll stop at Wimpy’s Diner and get some sandwiches to eat along the way.”
    “And we’d better make an honest-to-goodness phone call, too, so our parents will know where we are,” Trixie said as they pedaled off down the road.

    As the girls approached Croton, they stopped at a gas station to inquire the way to Revolutionary Road. “Why, that’s way up by the reservoir,” the station attendant told them. “You’ll walk more than ride going up, but it’ll be a breeze coming back,” he added good-naturedly. “Just follow this road up the hill, and bear left through the upper village until you come to the dam. You can cross right over the top of it, and Revolutionary Road will be the first on your left.”
    “Oh, I remember now!” Trixie cried. “There’s a lovely park under the dam, with a fountain. We went there once for a picnic. It’ll be a perfect place to eat our lunch.”
    “If we ever get there,” Honey moaned. “I’m exhausted already.”
    “You’ll get your second wind soon,” Trixie encouraged her. “We can’t turn back now.”
    “I’ve already used up my second wind and my third, but maybe I’ll catch my fourth before it’s too late,” Honey said as she pushed the hair off her forehead.
    Even though they were anxious to explore Revolutionary Road, the girls took a long time to eat their lunch. It was a wonderful day. The water poured over the spillway at one side of the dam, making miniature rainbows where the sun hit the spray. They stretched out on the cool grass and watched the clouds laze across an incredibly blue sky, until they both felt revived and ready to pedal on their way.
    They had not gone far along Revolutionary Road before they rounded a curve and saw ahead of them a small but lovely old house. It was nestled at the foot of a hill, as though seeking protection from the weather. The gray shingled roof sloped in a gentle curve over a wide veranda. At the side of the house was an ivy-covered well with a bucket hanging above it.
    “I’m dying of thirst,” Trixie said. “Do you suppose it would be all right to take a drink?”
    Before Honey had time to answer, the girls saw the side door of the house open. A frail-looking, white-haired old lady came out and down the path to the gate.
    “I saw you young people from my upstairs window and thought you looked rather hot and tired. Wouldn’t you like a drink of my wonderful well water?” she asked as she approached them.
    “We were just wondering if it would be all right for us to have a drink. We are thirsty after our ride,” Trixie answered.
    “You wait right here, and I’ll fetch some glasses,” the old lady said. “By the way, let me introduce myself. I’m Miss Sunderland.”
    Miss Sunderland! It was all Trixie could do to contain her excitement. Darting a warning glance at Honey, she said, scarcely breathing, “I—I’ve heard your name, Miss Sunderland— I think your house is called The Homestead, isn’t it?”
    “Indeed it is, my dear,” the old lady answered briskly.
    Trixie and Honey glanced at each other swiftly, their eyes shining. Then, struggling not to show her excitement, Trixie introduced Honey and herself.
    “We’re from Sleepyside,” she added. “It was such a nice day, we decided to picnic by the dam and— Revolutionary Road is beautiful. Does it really date back that far?”
    “Oh, my, yes!” Miss Sunderland answered with a smile. “You let the bucket down while I get some glasses, and then I’ll tell you all about it—and about this house, too.”
    “Isn’t she adorable?” Honey whispered as the old lady left them. “Are you going to tell her about the letter?”
    “I don’t know yet.” Trixie was almost breathless. “Let’s wait and see what she has to say. Maybe we should just try to get some leads today and wait until later to tell her— Shh! Here she comes!”
    “I thought you might like some fruit, too,” Miss Sunderland said as she returned. She was carrying a basket of beautiful ripe fruit and two