The Mystery of the Emeralds

stifling heat, but since Bobby by now had got up nerve enough to join her, she concealed her momentary fright. Stooping, she picked up a round object that lay on top of the old clothes.
    “Gleeps, Bobby, this looks like Brian’s old Boy Scout canteen. How could it ever have got in here— and where do you suppose these old clothes came from?”
    “I dunno, Trixie, but I don’t like it in here. It’s spooky. Let’s go back to Moms.” Bobby caught Trixie’s hand and started pulling her toward the opening in the wall.
    “Okay, Bobby, you’re a brave boy to come with me,” Trixie said gently, permitting the little boy to lead her back to the main part of the attic.
    Mrs. Belden hadn’t the faintest idea where the old clothes and the canteen had come from. “That part of the house has been closed as long as I’ve lived here,” she said. “Maybe your father will know something about it.”
    “This couldn’t be Brian’s canteen, then,” mused Trixie as she examined it more closely. “No, this one is much heavier and older looking.”
    “You know, it looks like the kind the soldiers carried during the Civil War,” Mrs. Belden said. “I remember my great-grandfather had one. He’d bring it out and let us children play with it.”
    “Do you think it would be worth any money at the White Elephant Sale?” Trixie asked. “It’s nothing we can use.”
    “Well, someone might be interested in it as a collector’s item. Personally, I’d rather have a nice clean Thermos bottle,” Mrs. Belden answered, laughing. “And we might as well get rid of those old clothes, too. Hand them out to me, Trixie. I’ll put them in this box, and we can bum them later.”
    “Jeepers, I hate to touch those dirty old things,” Trixie said as she glanced around the attic. Her eye finally lighted on an old pair of tongs. “I know what! I’ll use these and spare my lily-white hands.”
    She slipped back through the narrow opening into the crawl space. Out came an ancient overcoat, followed by a worn blanket. As Trixie was picking up a moth-riddled pair of pants, an envelope dropped out of one of the pockets. She put it in her own pocket, quickly deciding to open it later, in private. It was probably of no importance, but she’d had enough teasing lately about her playing detective.
    On the other hand, she thought to herself, it just could be the beginning of something interesting.

Mystery From the Past • 2

    BY FOUR O’CLOCK, Trixie and her mother decided to call it a day. Tired and disheveled, they went downstairs, carrying the boxes of articles they had sorted out for the sale—some china, a beautiful old parasol, a mirror, and odds and ends of clothing.
    Trixie went out on the porch and called to her brothers to come in for a snack. Bobby, who had deserted the attic soon after lunch to go out to the bam with Mart and Brian, came running to the house, the case of an alarm clock in one hand and its works in the other, followed by Reddy, the Beldens’ red Irish setter, who was never very far away from the little boy.
    “I’m gonna fix this up good as new for the elephant sale,” he announced proudly. “Mart’s gonna show me how, aren’t you, Mart?”
    “I sure am, but right now I’m ready to tear into those cookies. Wow! My favorite kind, too!” he cried as he caught sight of a plate piled high with homemade molasses cookies. He grabbed his mother and spun her around the kitchen until she begged him to let her go.
    “Mart, you’re making me dizzy!” She laughed as she straightened her apron and pushed her hair back into place. “Now, you all go and wash your hands while I pour the milk. You look like hoboes.”
    “It’s just good honest grime,” Brian answered as they went out to get cleaned up.
    They were soon back, holding out their hands, palms up, like three-year-olds.
    “Do we pass inspection now, Moms?” Trixie asked teasingly.
    “I’ll give you an ‘A’ for effort,” Mrs. Belden replied, “but I still see signs of cobwebs and dust in your hair.”
    “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Trixie said. “I’ll take a quick shower as soon as we’ve finished eating, and then, while Mart and Brian are getting cleaned up, I’ll go ahead and pick up Honey and Jim. Meet you at the clubhouse in half an hour. Okay?”
    “Sure, chief,” Mart answered, helping himself to another glass of milk.
    “By the way,” Brian said, “is the key still hidden in the same place, Trix?”
    “What did