The Mystery of the Millionaire

Anthony Ramsey offered a reward for the recovery of his wallet. The way Mr. Lytell was talking, maybe he needs the money.”
    Trixie groaned. “You always have the right answers where people are concerned, Honey. I wouldn’t even have thought about a reward.
    Now that you mention it, I’m more than happy to let Mr. Lytell return the wallet and get the reward. Maybe he’ll use it to stock up on strawberry pop!” The girls were still giggling over Trixie’s joke as they rode up to the Wheeler stable.
    For the next half hour, there was no time for jokes as they brushed the horses and cleaned the tack. When they were finished, Trixie said a quick good-bye and hurried home to Crabapple Farm and lunch.
    She was just reaching for the back door handle when the door flew open, rapping her knuckles painfully. “Ow!” she yelped.
    “Sorry,” Mart Belden said hurriedly as he rushed out the door and went tearing down the driveway.
    Staring after him, Trixie saw that the mail truck had just pulled up to the mailbox down on the road. Trixie shook her head in bewilderment, wondering again what was causing her brother’s mysterious behavior.
    She walked into the kitchen and saw her mother setting the table for lunch. Automatically, Trixie reached into the silverware drawer and pulled out the right number of knives, forks, and spoons. Following her mother around the table and putting the silverware at each place, Trixie asked, “Do you have any idea what’s gotten into Mart? He almost knocked me over in his hurry to get to the mailbox.”
    Helen Belden smiled and shook her head. “I assume he’s expecting something very important. He’s been rushing out to get the mail every day for the past week.”
    “Doesn’t it bother you to see him acting that way?” Trixie asked, frowning.
    Her mother laughed. “I consider a little strange behavior from my children to be quite normal. At least Mart’s interest in the mail keeps him close to home all morning.”
    Trixie blushed, wondering if her mother was making a subtle reference to her own absence, which, because of the wallet, had extended far longer than she’d expected. Before she could explain to her mother, Mart came back from the mailbox. The gloomy expression on his face said plainly that whatever he’d been expecting had not arrived. Letting the door slam behind him, he dropped the mail onto the table inside the back door and slouched morosely through the kitchen.
    “Don’t go too far, Mart. Lunch is almost ready,” Mrs. Belden cautioned.
    “All right,” Mart replied. “But I’m not very hungry.”
    Trixie gasped and turned to look at her mother. Besides his love for big words, his love for big helpings of every kind of food was Mart Belden’s most distinguishing characteristic. If he wasn’t hungry, he must be in the throes of something very mysterious indeed.
    Mrs. Belden’s face was expressionless, however. She made no comment on Mart’s loss of appetite, continuing instead to dish up their lunch. Although it was difficult, Trixie followed her mother’s lead and said nothing.
    A few minutes later, Trixie called her brothers to lunch. The ways in which Bobby and Brian responded to the call seemed to Trixie to be excellent summaries of their personalities. Brian walked quietly to the table, looked, pulled out his chair, and sat down. “Everything looks delicious,” he said politely, spreading his napkin across his lap.
    Bobby barreled through the doorway and skidded to a halt inches from Trixie, who was carrying two brimming glasses of milk to the table. “Sorry, Trix!” he crowed. He clambered onto his chair and reached immediately for a brownie, snatching his hand back when Trixie threatened to slap it.
    “Those are for dessert, Bobby, and you know it,” Trixie told her six-year-old brother sternly.
    “I know,” Bobby said, looking up at her mischievously. “I was just gonna have dessert first today.”
    Mart’s response to the summons for lunch was not typical of his personality, however. He stalked into the room, drew his chair out, and sat down on it heavily. Then he put an elbow on the table and lowered his chin into his hand with a loud sigh.
    Trixie, puzzled, looked at her brother, but Helen Belden was the first to speak. “All right, everyone. Let’s eat.”
    Mart tried hard to maintain his listless attitude, but Trixie noticed that he piled his plate just as high as he did on his more cheerful days. So much for his loss of