The Mystery of the Millionaire

nodded in agreement. “Let’s go,” she said, swinging into the saddle once again. Trixie shoved the wallet into her pocket, swung up onto the saddle, and followed Honey back down Glen Road. She felt a curious mixture of excitement and apprehension. This was a new mystery, and Trixie loved mysteries more than anything. Still, she wished that she didn’t have to see Mr. Lytell again quite so soon.
    As the girls dismounted and tied their horses outside the store, Trixie reached into her pocket, pulled out the wallet, and held it out to Honey. “You’d better do the talking,” she said reluctantly.
    Honey hesitated, then took the wallet. The two girls walked into the store and stood at the counter for a moment before Mr. Lytell emerged from the back room.
    “You girls again!” he grumbled crossly. “What do you want this time?”
    Trixie flushed, but she bit her lower lip and said nothing.
    Honey spoke in her politest tones. “We found this wallet on Glen Road, very near here, Mr. Lytell. It seems to belong to an Anthony Ramsey, and it has a hundred dollars in it, so we’re sure Mr. Ramsey would like to have it back. Has he been in the store this morning?”
    Mr. Lytell snorted sarcastically. “Well,” he said, “how would I know which one was Mr. Ramsey? Almost all my customers pay me with hundred-dollar bills. That’s why I’ve got so much money.”
    Honey cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Then you don’t know Mr. Ramsey?” she asked quietly.
    Trixie looked at her friend admiringly. Only Honey would still be able to be calm. Trixie reached out and picked up the wallet, which Honey had placed on the counter, and started to inspect the contents once again, partly to keep herself from getting angry during Mr. Lytell’s next retort.
    “Wait a minute,” Trixie said suddenly, interrupting the storekeeper, who glowered at her. “I just found a motor club membership card tucked into a pocket here. It gives Anthony Ramsey’s address. He lives in New York City, so maybe he hasn't been in the store.”
    “Well,” Mr. Lytell said bitterly, “very few people drive up here from the city just to sample my merchandise. Anyway, no stranger came in today.”
    “Mr. Lytell, do you suppose you could phone Mr. Ramsey?” Honey asked. “I know it would be expensive, but Mr. Ramsey would probably be very happy to repay you. I could ask Miss Trask to do it, but your store must have been somewhere on his travel route.”
    Mr. Lytell reached out and took the wallet from Trixie. “Don’t you bother Marge with this,” he said in a more friendly tone of voice. “I’ll make the call.”
    Mr. Lytell went into the back room while the girls waited impatiently. They heard him dial once to get the number from directory assistance; then they heard him dial again. There was silence for a few moments. Then they heard the receiver being replaced.
    “No answer,” Mr. Lytell said as he came back into the store.
    “Well, thank you very much for trying,” Honey said. “We’ll take the wallet and try the number later, if you—”
    “I’ll do it,” Mr. Lytell said abruptly, putting the wallet in his pocket.
    Trixie looked at the storekeeper in surprise at his offer. Then Honey’s next words made her realize the motive for his cooperation.
    “I’ll be sure to tell Miss Trask how perfectly perfect you’ve been, going to all this trouble and everything,” Honey said sweetly.
    Trixie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. Despite his gruff “Get along with you now,” Mr. Lytell actually had a glow to his cheeks.
    “Good-bye, Mr. Lytell,” Trixie said cheerfully. Honey echoed her, and the two girls left the store.
    Once again they mounted their patient horses and started off down Glen Road. Trixie was quiet for a few moments as she thought about what had happened. Finally she said, “You were wonderful with Mr. Lytell, Honey. I’d give anything to have your poise. Still, I wish we’d kept the wallet. I’d really like to solve this mystery myself.”
    “But, Trixie, there isn’t any mystery to be solved. Mr. Ramsey lost his wallet, and Mr. Lytell will see that he gets it back. If I know Mr. Lytell, he’ll ask how the wallet was lost along Glen Road— you know how he loves gossip—and we can ask him about it. Or Miss Trask can,” Honey added impishly, “the next time she’s in his store. But I don’t think there’s any mystery. Besides, Trixie, I wouldn’t be surprised if