The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

a day. Come along, Honey. We’ll take Di home. It’s a shame Dan couldn’t have stayed for some of those waffles, Mrs. Belden. Thanks a million.”
    “I think Honey will stay with me, Jim, maybe even for the weekend. She almost promised,” Trixie told him.
    “I’d love to, if you think Mom won’t mind, Jim. Do you?”
    “Have you ever known her to mind when you stay at Crabapple Farm? Come along, Di, you’re stuck with me. I’ll drive you home. I’ll stop early in the morning, and we’ll all go and talk with the police about those signs.”
    Brian and Mart went to their rooms.
    Mrs. Belden went to Janie’s room to check on her, then she and Mr. Belden said good night to Trixie and Honey.
    Trixie let Reddy out and watched him go galloping around the yard. Then she and Honey went upstairs.

Report to Sergeant Molinson ● 14

    AS THE STATION WAGON left Crabapple Farm the next morning to take the Bob-Whites to confer with Sergeant Molinson, Trixie said unexpectedly, “Let's stop at Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house. Maybe Juliana would like to go with us.”
    Mart turned around and looked at her as though she had two heads.
    Jim, surprised, said quickly, “Okay.”
    Dan Mangan, the most matter-of-fact member of the club, asked, “Why? She wasn’t anyplace in the woods yesterday. She’s never with us.”
    “Maybe that’s why,” Trixie said. “I’ve been thinking that we could have tried harder to be with her more. It’s Janie’s accident that threw us off—when she lost her memory and we brought her to live with us. I guess we just paid more attention to her because she seemed to need us more.”
    Juliana wasn’t at home, as usual, when they stopped.
    “She went out early this morning, about nine o’clock,” Mrs. Vanderpoel said. “Come in, all of you. I haven’t seen any of you but Jim for a long time. You must be pretty busy getting ready for the horse show at the Turf Club. That Regan is a slave driver, isn’t he?”
    Honey laughed. “Usually he is. He’s been swell about our practicing lately. He and Dan give the horses a workout. We help when we can. It isn’t often enough. Did you hear what happened yesterday, Mrs. Vanderpoel?”
    “Yes, I did. Jim told me some of it. Then, when Juliana came home, she told me more. She seemed to be pretty badly disturbed about it.”
    Trixie raised her eyebrows. “She didn’t show any sign of it when she stopped at our house. She hardly listened to anything we said about Janie’s fall.”
    “Juliana doesn’t show emotion. Dutch people don’t.” Then Mrs. Vanderpoel added, “Not on the surface, but we feel things deep down. I feel so sorry for that poor little nameless girl, Janie. I feel the same about you Bob-Whites, too. Your plans have had to take second place—your work at the hospital, helping at home, the Turf Show. Juliana is working on some dolls for a booth at the Show.”
    “Juliana?” Mart shouted. “Juliana working on a booth? She won’t even be here. At least, I know she hopes she won t be here that long.”
    “I know that. She’s pretty sure she won’t be here, but she’s making a lot of dolls—Dutch dolls—for the doll booth. Didn’t any of you girls know it?”
    Trixie, sobered and ashamed, shook her head. “We didn’t,” Honey said.
    “No, and I’d never have dreamed it,” Diana said. “That’s what she does daytimes, mostly,” Mrs. Vanderpoel told them. “She didn’t tell me anything about what she was doing until yesterday. I thought you knew. I hope she won’t mind my mentioning it now. She must have wanted to surprise you.”
    “Heavens!” Trixie said. “Think of it!”
    “Every day she goes to work with some woman named Thompson. I don’t know her. I think Juliana may have known her sister in the Bronx. This woman telephones to Juliana often. Her husband has been away, and she has time on her hands. She used to be a seamstress. I’ll show you one of the dolls.”
    Mrs. Vanderpoel left the room.
    “Boy, if that wasn’t a blockbuster!” Mart said. He saw Jim’s face and added quickly, “Well, did you think she’d make dolls for a booth? Did any of the rest of you think so?”
    “See, isn’t she pretty?” Mrs. Vanderpoel held up a little, flaxen-haired doll, it's two yellow braids sticking out from an apple-cheeked rag face.
    “She’s darling!” Trixie and Honey said in unison. “I guess we all need to take a second look at Juliana,” Brian said slowly. “We’ve sure jumped to