The Mystery of the Emeralds

You!” It was Jenkins. He stood, the picture of shocked surprise, in the French doors, confronting Di’s father.
    “Yes, Mr. Jenkins, it is indeed I,” Mr. Lynch replied coldly, motioning the man to come in. Jenkins looked as though he wanted to turn tail and run. But, twisting his hat in his hands and looking from one to the other of the Bob-Whites, he slowly came in and sat on the edge of the chair which Brian pushed toward him. Trixie noticed there was brick dust on the knees of his riding breeches and in his short-cropped hair. He apparently had come here directly from the tunnel.
    “I just dropped in to see Mr. Carver,” he began, his voice sounding unnaturally loud as he tried to regain his composure. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
    “I’m sure you didn’t,” Mr. Lynch replied. “I’m Diana’s father,” he went on, “and these are her friends. I take it you’ve met them.”
    “Yes, sir,” Jenkins said, his tone somewhat meeker, “but Mr. Carver didn’t tell me their last names.” Edgar Carver edged his wheelchair into the circle as Jenkins finished speaking.
    “Yesterday,” he said icily, “you came here with a necklace you purportedly found at Rosewood. Seeing what I believed to be a family heirloom naturally upset me emotionally, and it didn’t occur to me then to question your veracity.”
    Jenkins stood up. His attempt to smile ended in failure.
    “Oh,” he whined, “I didn’t mean to have you on, Mr. Carver. I just thought—”
    “You just thought you’d take advantage of a situation you happened to stumble on,” Mr. Carver charged angrily, “and had it not been for Trixie, you might very likely have succeeded.”
    “But I never said I’d found the necklace at Rosewood.” Jenkins’s whine was even more pronounced. “You can’t get anything on me. I said I’d found the box over there, and that was the truth. I found it in the loft over the stable.”
    “Now, wait a minute,” Mr. Lynch interposed. “We’re not interested in ‘getting’ anything on you, although I’m sure that, with a little police work, there would be plenty of evidence against you. Mr. Carver discussed this whole thing with me.”
    He paused to let Jenkins get the full impact of his words before continuing.
    “I’m sure you won’t deny you came to Green Trees looking for information about the necklace. In the course of your visit, Mr. Carver fell and injured himself. We strongly suspect that this was when he tried to keep you from stealing the directions to the treasure.”
    Jenkins started to say something, but Mr. Lynch silenced him with an upraised hand.
    “When you learned from Neil that Mr. Carver remembered nothing of the affair, you came back and tried to swindle him. This is enough to put you behind bars for a long time, but all we want is for you to get out of town. I’ll give you twenty-four hours. If you’re in the neighborhood after that, I’ll have the police pick you up!”
    Jenkins looked from Mr. Lynch to Mr. Carver, then cast a frightened glance at the circle of Bob-Whites.
    “I—I—” he began. Then he whirled and ran out of the room. The last they saw of him, he was driving up the road, away from Rosewood Hall and Green Trees, in an ancient pickup truck.
    The Bob-Whites breathed a sigh of relief when he had gone. Edgar Carver was visibly shaken, and the tight lines around Mr. Lynch’s mouth showed that his anger had not yet subsided.
    “I don’t think I’ve ever in my life seen a more unsavory character!” Mrs. Lynch burst out. “I hope he never shows his face around here again!”
    “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mother,” Mr. Lynch assured her. “His kind know when it’s getting too hot for them; they move out
    like rats leaving a sinking ship.”
    “I’m not concerned about him ," Honey said. “What’s been worrying me are the horses at Rosewood. Who’ll take care of them, with Jenkins and Neil both gone?”
    “Gleeps!” Trixie suddenly exclaimed. “I’ve got an idea. Why couldn’t Neil go back to Rosewood Hall, Mr. Lynch, now that Jenkins isn’t there?”
    “That’s certainly a possibility,” Mr. Lynch replied. “I’ll suggest it this afternoon when he comes to see me.
    “Oh, that would be just perfect,” Trixie said. “He loves horses, and maybe he could start back to school in the fall, too.”
    “That’s quite possible,” Mr. Lynch went on. “I want to find a competent overseer for the place, so