The Mystery of the Emeralds

him?” Honey whispered to Trixie. “Or did Jenkins hit him?”
    “I’m pretty sure he struck his head as he fell,” Trixie answered under her breath, at the same time drawing Honey aside, toward the desk. “I noticed traces of blood on the comer of the desk here, just where he would have fallen.”
    “You’re wonderful, Trix!” Honey said as they rejoined the others. “Even in an emergency, you keep your head level and your eyes open.”
    When Brian had finally cleaned the wound as best he could, he took a freshly laundered handkerchief from his pocket and flipped it open, being careful not to touch the part that would come in contact with the ugly abrasion on Mr. Carver’s forehead.
    “This is the closest thing to a sterile dressing I can manage,” he explained as he deftly adjusted the makeshift bandage. “Ironing half sterilizes cloth, and I folded it as carefully as I could.”
    Honey had been following Brians every move, as had the others, but at the same time, she had seen to it that Mr. Carver was kept covered. Trixie smiled inwardly, for she well remembered how her friend used to quail at the sight of blood. Now Honey seemed just as able to help in an emergency as any other Bob-White.
    As a matter of fact, Trixie thought, I’ll bet she’d make a first-rate nurse, as well as a detective.
    Di and Mart, in the meantime, had been sponging up the spot on the floor and getting things in order again. It was not too long before Mr. Carver began to respond. His eyes slowly opened, and he looked around as though not quite sure of his whereabouts. Then, seeing the Bob-Whites nearby, he smiled weakly and tried to raise his head.
    “You had an accident, sir,” Brian told him, “but you’ll be all right. Just try to relax and lie still.”
    “What happened?” the man asked weakly, putting his hand to his brow. “My head is splitting.”
    It was on the tip of Trixie’s tongue to tell him about seeing Jenkins riding from the house, but she decided against it. It would be better to wait until he had had a chance to regain his strength before attempting to find out just what had happened.
    “You fell out of your wheelchair,” she said, “and it looks as though you gave yourself a terrific knock on the edge of the desk.”
    “I don’t understand it,” Mr. Carver answered. “I’ve never had an accident in all the years I've been using it. I don’t understand!”
    “Don’t try to figure it out just now,” Brian urged him. “I think the thing for us to do at the moment is to get a doctor to look at your head and put on a proper dressing. The one I fixed up is pretty inadequate, I’m afraid.”
    “You do have a doctor, don’t you?” Trixie asked solicitously.
    “Yes, there’s Alex, though I think of him more as my friend than as my doctor.” Mr. Carver paused as though speaking tired him. “Except for my legs, I am remarkably fit, but Alex drops over every so often for a game of chess. He was here last evening, as a matter of fact.”
    “May we call him?” Trixie asked. “We want to be sure you’re all right.”
    “If it will make you feel easier,” he said with a faint smile. “I’ll admit my head could use relief of some kind. Look in the directory on my desk. He’s listed there under Alexander Brandon.”
    Trixie went to the desk and, having found the number, put in a call for the doctor. As she waited for the nurse to locate him, she glanced over Mr.
    Carver s neatly kept desk. Suddenly she noticed, far over on one side, almost hidden by a newspaper, the gold locket. It was open, and when she reached over and took it in her hand, her heart almost stopped beating. The little piece of paper—the directions for finding the necklace—was missing!
    “Of course, he might have put it away for safekeeping,” she told herself frantically. “But why hadn’t he put the locket away, too?” That he would have just flung it to one side of the desk didn’t fit in with his apparent orderliness. “No,” she conjectured, “Jenkins has been here!”
    Jim must have sensed that Trixie was deeply disturbed, because he stepped over to her side. Just then Dr. Brandon came on the phone. All Trixie had time to do was to place the open locket in Jim’s hand. He let out a low whistle and quickly slipped it into the desk drawer.
    When Trixie told the doctor about Mr. Carver’s wound and severe headache, he voiced concern and said he would come to Green Trees immediately. In answer to his