The Mystery of the Millionaire

probably hasn’t had time even to think yet about a trial.”
    “What about the map?” Trixie asked stubbornly. “He could have used that right away. Now he’s going back to New York, and it won’t do him any good from there.”
    Honey’s hesitation was longer this time. Finally she said, “All right, you’re right. McGraw should have remembered to ask us for the map. But what are you getting at?”
    Trixie thrust her chin forward defiantly. “I don’t think for a minute that McGraw forgot to ask us for the map. I don’t think he ever intended to ask for any of those assignments. I think he just gave them to us as busy work, to keep us out of his way!”

Trixie Answers Questions ● 9

    HONEY WHEELER, ready, as always, to see both sides of the situation, tried to change Trixie’s mind about Mark McGraw’s intentions, but Trixie was unmoved. “The only one who can change my mind about Mark McGraw is Mark McGraw,” Trixie said. “And the only way he can do that is to ask for those assignments he gave us.”
    “He said he’d stay in touch,” Honey said. “We can remind him next time—”
    “No!” Trixie interrupted vehemently. “That wouldn’t prove a thing. Of course he’d take the assignments from us if we reminded him to. He’d probably even find us more unnecessary things to do to keep us busy. But that wouldn’t mean he really wanted our help or that he ever meant to make use of what we gave him.”
    Honey frowned. She was unwilling to believe the worst of anyone, but she had to admit to herself that what Trixie said sounded right. “What are we going to do?” she asked.
    “I’m not going to do another thing,” Trixie said firmly. “You know how much I’d been looking forward to helping a real detective solve a case. But if he doesn’t want our help—and I’m convinced he doesn’t—then that’s that. I won’t help. I won’t worry. I won’t even think about this case if I can help it.”
    “You mean you’re quitting?” Honey asked in disbelief.
    “I don’t think I’m quitting,” Trixie said, “because I don’t think I was ever really involved. McGraw just let me think I was. I’m just facing the truth, that’s all.”
    Honey looked almost tearful. “We’ve never walked away from a mystery before, Trixie,” she said, “not even when everyone told us it was useless for us to try to solve it.”
    Trixie shrugged. “You can work on the case if you want to,” she said, “but I’m not going to give it another thought.”
    “What if Mr. McGraw does ask for our assignments—without being reminded, I mean?” Honey asked.
    Trixie’s resolution wavered momentarily. “I suppose I might change my mind if that happened,” she said. “I don’t think it will, though.”
    As she walked along the path toward home, Trixie weighed her own feelings about the decision she’d just made. On the whole, she finally decided, she didn’t feel as bad as she’d thought she would. On the one hand, she was certainly disappointed that her dreams of working with a real detective had fallen through. On the other hand, she was proud of herself for recognizing that Mark McGraw hadn’t really been taking her seriously.
    Then, too, there was a freedom in knowing that she no longer had to take part in helping Laura Ramsey. She now realized that there was something about the woman that she just plain didn’t like—something that ran deeper than her feelings of jealousy over Jim’s attention.
    Once she had her thoughts sorted out, she pushed the whole subject out of her mind. “No more mysteries for now,” she told herself. “I’ll stick to my canning and gardening and babysitting. It’s not as exciting, but it’s not as frustrating, either.”
    She kept her resolution all the next day and most of the following morning. In fact, in her determination to forget about mysteries, she’d completely forgotten the one she’d discovered under her own roof.
    When Mart knocked softly on the door of her room, where she was quietly reading a book, and said, “Come here a minute,” Trixie could not, for a moment, figure out why he wanted to see her. Then, remembering her brother’s new enterprise, she jumped off the bed and followed him to his room.
    “Look,” he said simply, motioning her to his desk. The five plaques were spread out across it. Trixie stooped and examined them closely. They looked very nice, she thought, although the lacquer had bubbled up here and there on