The Mystery of the Millionaire

from the subject,” Jim pointed out. “A man resembling Laura’s father was spotted in Buffalo. What’s the next step in finding out if it really is Mr. Ramsey, and in getting him back, if it is?”
    “The only way for me to find out for sure is to go to Buffalo. But I’ll need more money,” McGraw said.
    “But that’s impossible! I’ve already paid you two thousand dollars!” Laura protested.
    “Seven days at two hundred a day is fourteen hundred dollars right there. Plus expenses. Information doesn’t come cheap these days. Plus I’m now working on your father’s disappearance ' and the appearance of this green car. I’m doing you a favor not to charge you double, lady,” McGraw said bluntly.
    Trixie’s hands clenched in angry fists. She and Honey wanted to be detectives because they enjoyed helping people to solve their problems. This man was in it only for the money. Laura Ramsey’s problems meant nothing to him.
    “I’ll try to get you more money,” Laura said feebly.
    “You’d better do more than try,” McGraw told her. “I don’t go to Buffalo until the money is in my hands. You know where to send it.” Abruptly, he turned and left the room.
    Laura sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands.
    “Maybe we could take over the case from here,” Honey said desperately. “We’d do it for free.”
    “Oh, sure,” Jim said. “We just drive to Buffalo and go from one seedy restaurant to another. At each one, we ask a waiter, ‘Excuse me, sir. Is this a syndicate hangout?’ Then, when one says yes, we say, ‘Would you please point out the men who are holding Anthony Ramsey prisoner?’ ”
    “Very funny!” Honey said bitterly. Her temper, which so rarely surfaced, was flaring now because of the helplessness she felt. “I suppose you have a better suggestion.”
    Jim hung his head. “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry for making fun of your idea, Honey. I know you just want to help.”
    “You all want to help,” Laura said, raising her head. “I appreciate that more than you can possibly know. But it’s still my problem.”
    “My parents will be home on Sunday,” Honey said. “If you can just wait that long, you can borrow the money from them. I’m sure of it.”
    Laura shook her head. “That will raise questions we’re forbidden to answer.”
    Trixie darted a look at Jim, who nodded. “I know that the first two thousand dollars came from Mr. Lytell, Trix. Laura had to borrow a few dollars from us for the things she needed from town. The whole story came out then.” Relieved that she could say what was on her mind, Trixie mused aloud, “That’s why Laura can’t go to Mr. Wheeler for money. There would be no way of asking without letting him know that Mr. Lytell already lent her some money. That’s what we’re forbidden to do.”
    Laura nodded. “I’m afraid Mr. Lytell has left me no choice but to go back to him for more money. I have nowhere else to turn. Besides, the fastest way that I know of for him to get his two thousand back is to find my father. And the only way to do that, it seems, is to borrow more money. Jim—” she began.
    “I’ll get the station wagon right away,” Jim told her.
    “Would you like us to ride along?” Honey asked.
    Laura shook her head. “I’d be grateful for your company, but I think it would be better if I went alone.”
    I think so, too, Trixie told herself silently. She didn’t envy Laura her dealings with the crotchety old storekeeper.

Jumping to Conclusions ● 11

    WHEN LAURA AND JIM had left the room, Honey turned to Trixie and said, “Mr. McGraw seemed to take what you said about the census taker pretty seriously. That ought to make you feel a little better.”
    “It ought to,” Trixie agreed, “but I don’t think it does.”
    “Why not?” Honey asked, surprised.
    Trixie stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to think. “For one thing,” she began reflectively, “Mr. McGraw seems to get carried away with his own theories. I realized that the other day, when it took me so long to figure out why the man in the green car was posing as a census taker. Mr. McGraw had made up his mind that Laura had already been identified, and I sort of took his word for it. But those phony census questions don’t make any sense unless he hadn't identified her, and he was trying to get her name.”
    “But the main thing is that Mr. McGraw warned us that the man in the green car might try to trick us into talking to