The Mystery of the Millionaire

him. Mr. McGraw’s theory about that wasn’t so farfetched,” Honey pointed out.
    “Well, yes,” Trixie admitted. “That isn’t the only time he’s jumped to a conclusion, though. Laura said that Frank Riebe always seems to be at the bottom of things—but that’s because Mr. McGraw puts him there. He decided right away that the man in the green car was Frank Riebe’s detective; he never even tried to think of another explanation. He brought him up in connection with the syndicate, too.”
    “It sounds perfectly logical to me,” Honey said. “After all, Trixie, Mr. McGraw is a professional detective. He’s been involved in a lot of mysteries. If he jumps to a conclusion, it’s probably because his experience tells him it’s the right one.”
    “That’s just it, Honey,” Trixie protested. “We’ve been in a lot of mysteries, too, and I’d say what we’ve learned is that jumping to conclusions is exactly the wrong thing to do. Remember the time we decided Mr. Maypenny was a poacher?”
    Honey looked at the floor, temporarily taken aback by Trixie’s embarrassing reminder. “All right,” she said, “I’m willing to admit that we should take what Mr. McGraw says with a grain of sand, but—” She broke off as Trixie burst into gales of laughter. “What’s so funny?” she asked in confusion.
    “Y-You said,” Trixie gasped, “that we should take it with a grain of sand! If you don’t know the difference between a grain of salt and a grain of sand—”
    “I’d better not volunteer to make hamburgers at the beach!” Honey finished for her, laughing as she realized her mistake.
    As the laughter died down, Trixie became unusually serious. “I want to tell you something else, Honey,” she said suddenly. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I don’t feel honest not telling you about it.”
    “What is it?” Honey said, reflecting her friend’s serious mood as she had her hilarious one.
    Trixie chewed her lower lip for a moment before speaking again. “The main reason I decided to stay away from this case isn’t Mr. McGraw at all. It’s Laura Ramsey.”
    “Oh, Trixie,” Honey wailed. “Don’t tell me you’re still jealous.”
    “That isn’t it,” Trixie said. “I mean, I am jealous, a little bit, because Jim’s been so nice to her, and because she’s staying here with you, so I feel a little bit like an outsider. But that isn’t all of it. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I know that isn’t all of it.”
    “Well, then, what else is it?” Honey asked with a perplexed look on her face.
    Trixie raised her shoulders helplessly. “I don’t know.”
    “Well, I do,” Honey said. “You just said Mr. McGraw gets carried away with his own theories, and I think you’re even more guilty of that.” Before Honey could continue, Trixie held up one hand, palm outward, to stop her. “All right, all right. I don’t want to talk about it. I know you like Laura. I don’t. Not entirely, anyway. I don’t want to get into a fight about it. I just felt as though I had to tell you how I feel.”
    Honey pressed her lips together as if she were stifling angry words. When she finally spoke, her tone was mild. “I respect your feelings, Trixie, even though I don’t agree with them. I don’t think we ought to talk about it anymore.”
    “I don’t, either,” Trixie agreed, remembering the one time that she and Honey had let their friendship be affected by a difference of opinion about another person. That time, she thought uncomfortably, Honey had turned out to be right. “I guess I’d better get home,” she said out loud.
    “Why don’t you sleep over tomorrow night?” Honey asked impulsively. “That might make you feel less like an outsider, anyway.”
    Trixie grinned. “As if I have any real reason to feel like an outsider at Manor House!” she said. “I would like to stay over, though. I’ll ask Moms if it’s all right when I get home, and I’ll give you a call. Okay?”
    “Okay,” Honey said, smiling with her hazel eyes as well as with her mouth. “ ‘Bye, Trix.”

    Mrs. Belden agreed readily to letting Trixie stay over at Manor House on Saturday night. “In fact,” she said, “I think I’ll declare tomorrow a day of rest for everyone. If the weatherman is right, this heat wave will break tomorrow or Sunday. Then we can all throw ourselves back into our work. Right now, we’re all too limp and cranky to do anything cheerfully.”
    Accordingly,