The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

rug out and beat it every time you and Bobby and Brian tramp dust in there. If you’d ever come in the back door, the way Moms keeps telling you to, and use the mat—”
    “Forget it!” Mart told her as he and Brian folded the rug. “Is the floor all waxed and ready to accept this superclean job?”
    “It is. Will you help me take down the curtains from my room and trade them for those in the guest room?”
    “For pete’s sake, what’s the matter with the ones that are hanging there now?” Mart asked.
    “Mine are prettier. I want the room to be perfect for Janie. What do you have to do that’s so terribly important that you can’t help me?”
    T have to have some time to practice catching balls.”
    “All right, then, Brian will help me.”
    “And who will pitch the balls? Reddy?”
    “Try him. He’s pretty smart. There’s one thing I know, and that is that I promised Moms to have this room ready, and she said you were to help me.”
    “We are helping you, aren’t we?”
    “Yes, but I can sense mutiny in the air. Mart, this mat has to be centered.” She gave the pretty hooked rug a tug. “There! Now, Brian, you lift one end of the bed while Mart and I try to roll the rug under it. Then you’ll have to help me put the dresser and desk back in place.”
    “Gol!” Brian protested. “You’re more of a slave driver than Moms. I’d sure hate to be the guy that you marry.”
    “Why?” Mart asked unexpectedly. “Trixie is already a good cook, and, boy, does this room look neat!”
    He stood off, dusting his hands. “There should be some flowers on that desk, shouldn’t there?”
    “I’ll get ’em,” Brian said and came back soon with a conglomerate bunch of colors—zinnias, marigolds, late, fragrant pinks. He thrust them into a squat Bennington jar, where they looked amazingly appropriate and colorful. “I just hope Janie appreciates all this toil,” he said. “Oh, my aching back!”
    “She will. You’ll see,” Trixie said. “It’s going to be wonderful having her here and helping her get well.”
    “Trixie, the Florence Nightingale of modern New England!”
    “Oh, yes?” Trixie smiled. “You pretend to be so hardhearted, Mart. You’re just an old softie. You’re glad she’s coming here, and you know it.”
    “Who wouldn’t want to help a girl who’s in a jam like she is? She doesn’t even know where her family is. She doesn’t even know if she has one or not. It beats me why someone isn’t looking for her. Oh, yikes!” he groaned. “Look who’s coming up the drive now—Juliana! We’ll have to put her to work.
    “I don’t think so,” Brian said. “She doesn’t seem to be the working kind. Look how dressed up she is.
    They all went out to greet her.
    “I didn’t hear Reddy bark, and I didn’t see your mother’s car. I thought perhaps nobody was at home.”
    “I’ll say we are,” Mart said, “beating rugs, moving furniture. You’re just in time to help.”
    “Don’t pay any attention to Mart,” Trixie said. “We’re through with the hard part of the work. Janie is coming here to stay with us for a while. We’re hoping it will help her get well. Moms and
    Bobby have gone to the hospital to get her.”
    “Janie... is... coming... here?” Juliana gasped. “Yes. She can take walks in the woods, and Moms will feed her good food, and—” Trixie leaned over to pick up one of Bobby’s toys from the walk. “What makes you so surprised?”
    “I’m not surprised. I’m shocked! Did the doctor say she could leave the hospital?”
    “Moms is going to ask him. She won’t bring her home unless Dr. Gregory says it’s all right. Why?”
    “Why? She might be dangerous, that’s why! She could suddenly go crazy and hurt someone.”
    The idea seemed so preposterous to the Beldens that the boys burst out laughing.
    “There’s nothing the matter with Janie’s mind,” Trixie said with spirit. “People with amnesia are not dangerous. And Janie’s so little. No wonder Mart and Brian are laughing. Janie probably doesn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds. How could she hurt any—”
    “So even if she were a black belt karate expert, she could hardly take on Bobby,” Mart said, still laughing. “She’s liable to be here soon, Juliana, so if you’re afraid....”
    “I can go back to Mrs. Vanderpoel’s. Is that what you mean, Mart? Well, I can go back and I’m going. You may regret what you’re doing.” She turned to
    “Don’t be cross