The Mystery of the Emeralds

because of sunburn, natural coloration, or anger, but she strongly suspected the last. His coarse black hair, growing low on his forehead, looked as if it had never known a comb, and it was hard to imagine that the small eyes, glaring from under heavy brows, had ever smiled. Jim took a step forward, a move which only served to make the man raise the whip again, but Jim was undaunted.
    “We beg your pardon, sir. We certainly meant no harm. My friends and I were curious about the house that used to stand here.”
    “Curiosity killed the cat, and it’s just as likely to get you into trouble, too,” the man snapped. “This is a horse farm, not a tourist joint, and I don’t want nobody prying around here. Do you understand?” Trixie, who had come up beside Jim, said, “We certainly do understand. You’ve made it very clear, and we’ll be delighted to leave, but just so we won’t make the mistake of trespassing again, you’d better show us where your property ends.”
    The man looked at her suspiciously, as if to make sure, before answering, that she wasn’t making fun of him. Although Trixie’s face was flaming, it was dead serious, and she didn’t flinch under his scrutiny.
    “You won’t have no trouble if you keep outside the fence,” he replied. “The whole farm is closed in, all sixty acres of it. Cost me a pretty penny, it did, too, to have it surveyed and fenced, but I don’t want no mistake about what’s mine. Now, get going. There’s the path to the main road, right over there.”
    He pointed over his shoulder to the lane, a continuation of the one the Bob-Whites had taken when they came in. Yanking the reins, he wheeled the beautiful roan he was riding and watched until they were on the path and walking toward the entrance. Then, striking the horse sharply, he galloped off in the opposite direction.
    “Whew! That’s Southern hospitality for you!” Mart exclaimed. “This trip has been about as useful as a refrigerator at the North Pole.”
    Trixie, her hands clenched and her head down, kicked the dirt angrily as she walked along. She didn’t join the others as they discussed the unpleasant incident. She was tom between a feeling of great sadness at the sight of the ruins of Rosewood and fury at the incivility of the owner. She couldn’t bear to admit that this might be the one and only chance they would have to visit Rosewood Hall. As she thought about it, she suddenly realized they wouldn’t even be able to look for the graveyard Ruth and Helen had visited those long years ago. In her mind’s eye, she could still see the faded entry in John Sunderland’s diary. She felt utterly miserable.
    “Cheer up, Trixie,” Di urged her. “I know how you feel, but don’t let it spoil our holiday.”
    Trixie, remembering that this trip was Di’s birthday present and that she shouldn’t put her own feelings first, made an effort to appear cheerful.
    “You’re right, Di,” she said, forcing a smile. “Let’s forget that old grouch and take a look at Green Trees.”
    “And this time I suggest that we don’t even get out of the car,” Brian said with a shake of his head. “Were apparently in enemy territory.”
    A short distance down the road, they came to the end of the fenced-in land, and not far beyond was Green Trees, set far back from the road among well-tended lawns and shrubbery. Jim pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the motor.
    “Look!” Trixie cried. “It’s just what Rosewood Hall must have been like. Aren’t those the same kind of columns?”
    “They certainly are!” Honey agreed. “What a gorgeous house 1”
    “Wouldn’t you love to go through it?” Di said. “But I wouldn’t even dare to ask, after the reception we just got. Would you, Trixie?”
    “No, but we wont have to ask, Di,” Trixie said softly.
    “What do you mean?” Mart asked incredulously. Trixie had been sitting next to the window in the front seat and had spotted a small sign which the others hadn’t noticed. Everyone craned their necks to see it after Trixie had pointed it out.
    GREEN TREES, it read, OPEN TO THE PUBLIC THURSDAYS 1 TO 3. ADMISSION $1.
    “And today’s Wednesday.” Jim broke the silence. “We can drive out again tomorrow afternoon. You know, we’re in luck!”
    “Yes, I guess we are,” Trixie answered a little dubiously. She didn’t know then just how lucky their forthcoming tour of Green Trees would be.

    They were awakened the next morning by the