The Mystery of the Millionaire

with her errands. She walked to Wimpy’s, where she had agreed to meet the others, slid into a booth, and ordered a soft drink. She jabbed the ice angrily with her straw, searching her mind for ways to make the other Bob-Whites accept her point of view. No plan occurred to her. The problem was that even though she was sure the Bob-Whites had been spied on and followed, she couldn’t figure out why.
    If Anthony Ramsey had been kidnapped, his kidnappers would send ransom notes, not spies. What if he had disappeared because of a nervous breakdown? Would he hire someone' to keep an eye on his daughter, to make sure she was all right? Trixie considered the idea briefly, then shook her head. She didn’t know very much about nervous breakdowns, but she was fairly sure that if that was the cause of Anthony Ramsey’s disappearance, he wouldn’t be capable of arranging for someone to look after his daughter. He might not even remember he had a daughter. Or if he did, wouldn’t he arrange for someone to contact her, to let her know he was all right, to make sure she had enough money?
    Trixie circled her straw in her glass, making a whirlpool that reminded her all too much of the endless circles her thoughts were making.
    When Laura, Honey, and Jim walked in, laughing and chatting together as though nothing was wrong, Trixie sat up straight and pasted a welcoming smile on her face. If you can't beat ’em, join ’em, she thought, determined to be cheerful.
    “Sleepyside is really a lovely little town,” Laura Ramsey said. “It’s so clean, and the people are so polite and unhurried. It’s quite a change from New York City.”
    “I’m glad you think so,” Honey said warmly. “I’d hate to think that all your memories of your stay with us were unhappy ones.”
    Laura’s face shadowed with worry for a moment, then she returned Honey’s smile and laid her hand on the girl’s arm. “I’ll have many happy memories when I leave Sleepyside,” she said. “You and your friends have been wonderful to me. As I told you once before, it means a lot to me just to know that there are still people in this world whom I can trust.”
    Trixie swallowed hard as she remembered that Laura Ramsey’s worries had actually started weeks before her father’s disappearance. Maybe Jim and Honey were right to try to keep from adding to her burden. She realized then that she’d never tried to get an opinion from either of them in private. Out of Laura’s hearing, they might be more willing to admit that the green car was a cause for concern.
    “Could Ï ride back to Manor House with you?” she asked. “I thought of a couple of things I’d like to add to my deposition.”
    “Sure,” Jim said. He lifted his glass and drained the last of his soft drink. “Let’s get going.”
    On the way home, Trixie, determined to be tactful, said nothing, but she couldn’t resist turning a couple of times to look out the back window for the little green car. She couldn’t see any sign of it.
    At the door of Manor House, Miss Trask greeted them with the news that Mark McGraw had come to talk to them. “He’s waiting in the library,” she said.
    The four young people hurried to meet the detective. “Is there any word?” Laura asked him anxiously.
    McGraw shook his head. “I’ve spent the day nosing around town, and I’ve put in calls to contacts of mine all over the state. There are a few leads, but nothing so definite that I’d want to talk about it at this point. I just thought I’d check in before I head back to the city.”
    Laura turned away from the detective and walked to the window. Her shoulders sagged with discouragement.
    “We’ve been followed,” Trixie blurted suddenly.
    McGraw tilted his head. “You think so?” he asked doubtfully.
    Trixie quickly gave him the details of her sightings of the small green car at the boathouse and again on the way to Sleepyside. When she finished, the detective looked less doubtful. He took the small notebook out of his pocket. “What make and model?” he asked.
    Jim told him.
    “Did you get the license number?” he asked brusquely.
    Once again, Jim gave him the information. Trixie looked at him gratefully. Even though he had denied that the car was suspicious, he had noted and remembered the number—which was more than Trixie had done!
    For the first time, McGraw seemed excited— almost shaken, Trixie thought. “That wasn’t reported by any of my contacts. Do you have any