The Mystery of the Memorial Day Fire

alley?” Honey asked.
    “Not exactly,” Trixie said. Then, having to be honest with her best friend, she added, “Not at all. She took the button, too. Now there’s no evidence against her.”
    “We’ll find some,” Honey said confidently, linking her arm through Trixie’s. “If Jane Dix-Strauss is guilty of something, we’ll prove it.”
    “What’s all the whispering about?” Jim asked, quickening his pace to overtake them and unlock the car door.
    “We re just figuring out how to sell the most T-shirts and do the least painting,” Trixie said. I’m not really lying, she thought, just teasing.
    “Nick certainly told us everything we need to know,” Honey said.
    “What Nick told us represents only an introduction to the art of solicitation,” Mart said as he climbed into the car. “I intend to take myself to the library tomorrow to get some books on the subject, the better to represent both Mr. Roberts and the Bob-Whites. And the better to avoid the agony of work later this summer.”
    “Can I come along?” Trixie asked impulsively. “What?” Mart asked. “You want to accompany me to a site of mental edification?”
    “Don’t act as if I’d never been to the library before, Mart Belden,” Trixie told him. “If I hadn’t been, Honey and I would never have figured out how to find Regan when he ran away to Saratoga that time. But if you don’t want to be seen with me, I’ll just go by myself.”
    “I would by no means forfeit the opportunity to be seen in your company on this rare — albeit, as you point out, not unique — occasion,” Mart said.
    The subject was changed, and Trixie thought it had been forgotten. That night, however, Brian came into her room. “It really isn’t like you to want to read up on a subject before you plunge into it, Trix,” he said. There was no teasing in his tone, just gentle concern. “How come you’re not in your ‘let’s get started’ mode any more?”
    “Well, there is a lot to learn, as Mart pointed out,” Trixie said. As her oldest brother continued to gaze levelly at her, she confessed, “Oh, Brian, all of a sudden I got cold feet. Seeing Jane Dix-Strauss reminded me that, thanks to her, Mr. Roberts is still suspect number one. I started wondering how people will treat his summer sales force. I guess I’m hoping that doing some reading on the subject of selling will give me some pointers to build up my confidence.”
    “That sounds like an excellent reason for going to the library,” Brian said quietly. “I wish you the best of luck.”
    Since Mart’s junior driver’s license permitted him to drive only when accompanied by an adult, Mart and Trixie had to use their bicycles as their means of transportation into Sleepyside. Neither of the young people minded that, since it was a sunny June day, with just enough breeze to cool them off without slowing them down.
    Inside the library Trixie followed Mart as he took a card tray out of the cabinet and walked over to the table with it.
    “Here is the correct topical notation,” Mart said. “‘Sales.’ There are two appropriate subcategories, as well: ‘Successful Selling’ and ‘Careers in Sales.’”
    “You mean all those books are on selling?” Trixie asked. “Why, that row of cards must be six inches long!”
    “At least,” Mart agreed. “Obviously you have never thought about the crucial role that selling plays in our society. Why, the chair you are sitting on, the table on which your elbows rest, the card file, and the cards themselves, not to mention the books, are in this library solely because someone sold them to someone else.”
    “Gleeps, you’re right,” Trixie said. “I never thought about that before. I just thought that whenever someone needed something, they went out and bought it, the way I do.”
    “Such naiveté,” Mart said. “You ‘just go out and buy it,’ do you? Tell me, to whom do you inquire about prices or alternate styles or colors?”
    Trixie sighed, signaling her defeat. “A salesperson,” she admitted.
    “Precisely. And does that person never suggest that you buy the more expensive item, or buy two while they’re on sale, or buy a pair of stockings to accompany the purchase of a new pair of shoes?” Trixie nodded without speaking, knowing that Mart knew what her answer would be.
    “That is salesmanship. A worthy career and, at its best, an art. That is what we are here to learn. Now,” he said, rising from the table with his