The Mystery of the Emeralds

thing!” Trixie began. “Mr. and Mrs. Lynch have asked the Bob-Whites to go with them on a trip to Washington and then on to -Williamsburg. Isn’t that exciting?”
    “It’s very exciting, but I don’t quite see—” Mrs. Belden began.
    “It won’t cost anything, because Mr. Lynch is giving the trip to Di for her birthday,” Trixie said, anticipating one of the objections to the proposal.
    “It isn’t just the expense,” her father said. “You and the boys have certain responsibilities around here, you know. It isn’t fair for your mother to have to take over all the chores, is it?”
    “I know it’s not,” Trixie conceded. “I guess I shouldn’t have even asked, but it did sound like a good idea at the time.”
    “Now, Dad,” Mrs. Belden said, “I can manage for another week. Bobby has finally learned the difference between a weed and a carrot top, and if you’ll take over the chickens for those few days, I don’t see why we wouldn’t get along just fine.”
    “Oh, Moms, you’re the most!” Trixie cried, giving her a hug. “You will see to the chickens, won’t you, Dad, and maybe wash a dish or two?” she begged.
    “Yes, princess. I guess you knew right from the first we’d say yes, didn’t you?” her father chuckled.
    “Well, I was pretty sure, and Mart and Brian and I will work extra hard when we get back, believe me!” Then she dashed out to the bain, slamming the porch door as she went, to give her brothers the good news.

Wonderful Washington ● 6

    NEEDLESS TO SAY, there was quite a scramble that evening as everyone got ready for the departure next day. Suitcases, only recently put away, were hauled out. Phones were ringing in all three houses to discuss what clothes should be taken, what time they were actually going to leave, and where they would be staying.
    “The first night we’ll be at a motel in Washington,” Di told Trixie, “and it has a pool, so be sure you all bring bathing suits. When we get to Williamsburg, we’ll stay at one of the cottages near the Inn. Daddy made reservations this morning.”
    “That sounds absolutely super!” Trixie exclaimed and then added, almost in a whisper, “And did you stop to think that, with two cars, we’ll be able to explore to our hearts’ content?”
    “I know. Daddy said that while he and Mummy are at the meetings, either Brian or Jim can drive us around. He says that since they took the drivers education course in school, they handle a car better than he does. Now I’ve got to run. See you tomorrow at nine.”

    It was a little after that hour when the Lynches drove down the Belden driveway. They had stopped first to pick up Honey and Jim, who were riding with Mrs. Lynch and Di in the convertible.
    “Put your gear in the back and hop in,” Mr. Lynch called out. “We’ll change the seating arrangements as we go along, so everyone will have a chance to ride in Mother’s new convertible. Isn’t it a beauty? You don’t mind starting out in the station wagon, do you, Trixie?”
    “I’d start out in an oxcart,” Trixie laughed, “just so we get there. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your taking us, Mr. Lynch.” Then to herself she added, If we do find the emeralds, he’ll really know how important the trip is.
    Bags were quickly stowed, and, with much shouting of good-byes and waving of hands, they were away.
    “What kind of convention is it you’re going to, sir?” Brian asked as they drove out of town.
    “Well, in the last couple of years I’ve become very interested in historic restorations,” Mr. Lynch replied. “I’ve seen what the Rockefellers have done to restore Washington Irving’s home and the old Van Cortlandt Manor House right here in Westchester. So I joined the County Historical Society. They’re meeting with several similar organizations to swap notes on what’s being done in various parts of the East. It should be an interesting get-together.”
    “Our class visited Sunnyside last year,” Trixie said. “I could just imagine Washington Irving in his cozy study, writing about Ichabod Crane and the headless horseman. I think it’s wonderful to save places like that!”
    “It surely is,” Mr. Lynch agreed. “More and more individuals and societies are coming to recognize the need to keep historical landmarks from being torn down in the name of what some people call progress.” The hours seemed to speed by as Mr. Lynch talked and answered their questions, and it was