The Mystery of the Phantom Grashopper

way—”
    “Good,” Trixie said. “But first we have to find some sponsors—businesses, or just people who are interested—to pledge a certain amount of money for every mile someone walks. And we need some good publicity before we begin.”
    “I have an ideal” Honey exclaimed. “My father is a good friend of Mr. Perkins, who owns WSTH. Maybe he’d announce it on his radio station for us.”
    “Great!” Trixie said. “Your dad can help us solve that problem.”
    The Bob-Whites spent the rest of the meeting making further plans for the walk-a-thon.
    On the way back to Crabapple Farm, Trixie sighed. “I wish I could get good ideas for my social studies report as easily as I do for club projects,” she said.
    “I thought you finished that report,” Brian said. “It’s almost done now,” Trixie admitted. “I have to make a couple more drawings of coins, that’s all. Honey and I are going to stay after school for a while tomorrow. We’ll come home in a cab.”

    After social studies class the following afternoon, Trixie and Honey talked with some classmates in the hall and asked for their help with the walk-a-thon. When the hall had emptied, they returned to the classroom to work on their reports.
    “I’ll be here for a while,” Miss Lawler said. “Ask if you need help.” She went to work on a stack of test papers.
    Pulling chairs close to the case, the girls examined the ancient coins once more. Honey quickly located an old Roman coin she needed and began sketching, but Trixie puzzled over one row of Chinese coins for several minutes.
    There were a great many round copper coins with holes in the middle. “They all look alike to me,” Trixie muttered softly.
    “But they’re not,” someone said in her ear.
    “Oh!” Trixie jumped. “Sammy!” she said. “You startled me.”
    “Sorry,” Sammy said earnestly. “I came to see Cis. I’m glad to find you here, though. I want to thank you and your father for helping me get my job at Town Hall. Cis told me that your dad put in a good word for me, and I sure appreciate it. You’ll never know how much you’ve helped me.”
    Trixie reddened. Being thanked for doing something good made her feel uncomfortable. “That’s okay,” she said with a shrug. “We’re glad you got the job.”
    “Sammy,” Miss Lawler said, “why don’t you help Trixie with those Chinese coins. She’s using some of them in a report on Chinese culture. I’m sure you can help her.”
    Seeing the surprised expressions of Trixie and Honey, Miss Lawler explained. “Sammy’s a pretty accomplished numismatist. He was interested, so I taught him everything I know about coins.”
    “That’s neat,” Trixie said. “Do you collect coins, too, Sammy?” she asked.
    “Why, sure,” Sammy said with a sneer, his voice suddenly sounding bitter. “All of us rich people collect coins. I carry my coin collection right here in my pocket.” Roughly he pulled out a coin. “Look,” he said, “a buffalo nickel! Vereee valuable. I scratched my initials into it so no coin thieves would get it. See?”
    “Sammy—” Miss Lawler began.
    But Sammy’s old grin was back. Returning the coin to his pocket, he said, “You don’t mind a little music while you work, do you?” He lifted a transistor radio from his shirt pocket and turned it on. “I’m a rock music freak,” he admitted.
    For the next half hour, Trixie kept Sammy busy answering questions about the row of round coins.
    “Why do some have a round hole in the middle and others have a square hole?” she asked.
    Sammy explained that the ancient Chinese had found their copper supply getting low. Their coins were made from copper, and they needed more coins, so apparently they decided to cut the middle out of one coin to make two! Their original coins had a small square hole in the center. So when they cut the centers out, they had one small coin with a square hole in the middle and a somewhat larger coin with a circular hole in the middle.
    Trixie was fascinated. She made careful drawings of the two types of coins.
    “Now look at that one,” she said, pointing to another coin in the row. “That doesn’t have any hole at all. How come?”
    “That’s a more modem Chinese coin,” Sammy told her. “Chinese coins have no holes in them now.”
    “Okay,” Trixie said, closing her notebook. “I’ve got everything I need for my report now. How about you, Honey?”
    Honey laughed. “I finished a long time ago,”