The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

chance to see if they’re anything like my—”
    Trixie gave her a warning nudge.
    “Yes, we should go see the jewels now,” Miss Trask agreed.
    McDuff led the way, with Miss Trask close behind him, then the boys, and Trixie and Honey trailing behind. The long line of sightseers was making its way slowly around the roped-off entrance to the Wakefield Tower, where the fabulous jewels were displayed in a heavily guarded, circular glass case as big as a room.
    “You really shouldn’t talk about you-know-what in front of you-know-who,” Trixie told Honey in a low voice.
    “I know,” Honey admitted contritely. “I just keep forgetting that Mr. McDuff isn’t one of us. He’s so wonderful.”
    “He doesn’t call you a little girl,” Trixie said stiffly. Honey was taller than she was and a lot prettier, in Trixie’s opinion. She didn’t mind that, but she wasn’t about to be called a child. And it didn’t help any that Mart had noticed it, too, and was teasing her by calling her the same thing.
    “Honestly, Trix,” Honey sighed. “I don’t see how you can not like Mr. McDuff! Not when he—”
    “I know. He scooped you out from under that horrible bus.” Trixie put her arm around Honey’s waist and gave her a big hug. “Oh, Honey, I’m so glad you’re okay. And I will try to like him better.” She glanced toward McDuff and sighed.
    A large party of American tourists had pushed in between them and the boys. Jim caught the girls’ attention and pointed at a sign that was posted on the wall.
    BEWARE PICKPOCKETS, IT READ.

The Crown Jewels ● 6

    DON’T WORRY,” Trixie assured Honey. “There’s plenty of beefeaters around to protect us.”
    They giggled at the nickname of the Tower guards, who wore bright red costumes with white ruffs, white gloves, black hats, red stockings with fancy garters, and red-and-white buckled shoes. This was the traditional uniform of the Yeomen of the Guard, McDuff had explained.
    “But why beefeaters?” Trixie had wanted to know. “Aye—well—all Englishmen are referred to as beefeaters,” their Scottish guide had said with a chuckle. “I dinna why!”
    “Indubitably because they ingest an inordinate amplitude of pulverized bovine flesh,” Mart had suggested.
    McDuff had simply given him a puzzled stare.
    Miss Trask and the boys were reaching the large chamber where the jewels were displayed, and Trixie and Honey were almost there, when Honey gave a little squeal.
    “Trix!” she cried. “I thought I felt something sort of tugging at my bag.”
    Trixie whirled around and scanned the crowd behind them. She didn’t see anyone who looked like the man they called Gray Cap.
    “Maybe Gray Cap knows that we’d recognize him by now,” she muttered, “and he’s in disguise.”
    A rough bump from behind sent Trixie head over heels, and as she scrambled to her feet, she heard a shrill bob, bob-white!
    Honey was standing there, white as a sheet. “I—I whistled,” Honey said faintly.
    The boys were there in a split second, but it was too late. Honey’s handbag was gone!
    Honey hadn’t been able to turn around in time to see who took it, and none of the tourists around her were of much help.
    McDuff shook his grizzled black head. “They’re very clever, these pesky thieves,” he said worriedly. He obviously felt somewhat responsible. “I should have taken care of ye,” he kept saying. “I’ll notify the police as soon as we’ve left the Tower.”
    “It’s a good thing your mother sent that cablegram this morning,” Trixie said to Honey as they moved on toward the crown jewels.
    Mrs. Wheeler had cabled Honey to be sure to leave the necklace in the hotel safe at all times. “I’ve been in touch with the appraiser, and it may prove to be more valuable than we at first thought,” the cable had said. The Bob-Whites knew that Honey had followed her mother’s instructions, so they weren’t sure why Honey still seemed so upset.
    “Did you have much money with you?” Jim asked. “No, but”—tears welled up in Honey’s hazel eyes— “I—I’m afraid Mother’s cable was in my handbag.” Jim gave a low whistle. “Then if Trixie’s right and that fellow you saw in the Wax Museum is following us, now he’ll have all the more reason to keep following us.”
    The four Bob-Whites stared at each other in dismay, and McDuff looked puzzled. “What fellow is that?” he asked Miss Trask.
    “I don’t believe for a minute that there’s anyone