The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

following us,” she said firmly. “London is notorious for pickpockets.”
    “No matter how many pickpockets there are,” Trixie said, “it sure seems strange that they’re all picking on us.”
    “It is a coincidence,” Miss Trask agreed.
    The two girls kept their eyes open for signs of the gray pickpocket, but all was forgotten when the Bob-Whites passed the great glass rotunda filled with the crown jewels. There weré magnificent crowns sparkling with precious gems, jeweled swords and golden spurs, scrolled bracelets and ivory scepters, purple velvet and ermine caps set with diamonds and pearls, and the huge Koh-i-noor diamond from India.
    “This diamond has been worn at the coronation of three queens since Victoria,” McDuff told them. “It’s said to bring bad luck to a man, but good luck to a woman.”
    Well, it sure brought bad luck to Honey, Trixie thought. She could have looked at the jewels for another few days, but there was a long line of tourists behind her.
    “I didn’t see any necklaces,” Honey protested as McDuff led them out of the Tower and back to their hotel.
    “Ssshhh,” Trixie warned her. Then she saw that she didn’t need to worry. McDuff was too busy talking to Miss Trask to hear what Honey said.
    Trixie overheard part of his chatter—“that’s a bonny blue dress that ye are wearing”—and grimaced. She could see for herself that Miss Trask was wearing one of her sensible navy blue suits. It was attractive, of course, but not “bonny.”
    The upshot of his chat with Miss Trask was really something to worry about, however, at least for Trixie. After McDuff had left them at the hotel. Miss Trask turned to the Bob-Whites.
    “Guess what,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Mr. McDuff has consented to be our guide for the rest of the trip. He’ll hire a car and drive us to Stratford tomorrow. In case anything goes wrong with the car, he says he’s an experienced mechanic, and I really wasn’t looking forward to driving on the wrong side of the road. He knows a great deal about Stratford, too. Oh, children, aren’t we lucky?”
    Children, Trixie fumed. She never called us that before.
    The others were delighted. “That’s wonderful,” Honey said.
    Jim was a little surprised, he told the others later, that Miss Trask would want a chauffeur. Miss Trask had gone to bed, and their brothers had stopped in the girls’ bedroom for a late-night snack.
    “I mean, Miss Trask loves to drive,” Jim went on, “and she’s a better mechanic than just about anyone else I know.”
    “I’ve been wondering...” Trixie hesitated, then frowned. I've been wondering if I should tell them what I’ve been wondering, she thought. Especially Honey, who thinks McDuff is so absolutely fantastic. And Honey is probably right. She very often is right. But still ...
    “I bet you guys didn’t know that my sister turns into a pumpkin every night around this time,” Mart was saying brightly.
    Trixie snapped to attention. “That’s better than being a pumpkin all day long,” she retorted. “What I’ve been wondering is, did you see the newspaper tonight?”
    “Don’t tell me you’ve been reading the newspapers!” Mart smote his freckled forehead. “On summer vacation?”
    “A detective has to keep up with the press,” Trixie said virtuously. “To tell the truth, I was just talking about the headline on the front page.”
    “Yep, I saw that,” Jim said. “It was a story about this tourist racket, where these con artists get poor kindhearted suckers to lend them a couple of quid—”
    “ Till the Exchange opens on Monday , ” Trixie finished triumphantly. “There! You see? That s exactly what McDuff did to us.”
    Honey did not agree. “Just because there are con men doesn’t make Mr. McDuff one,” she began reasonably. Then, in one of her rare displays of temper, she demanded, “Why don’t you just admit that you haven’t liked him right from the start, Trixie Belden? I—I’ll bet you’re jealous!”
    “Jealous?” Trixie blazed back. “Why on earth would I be jealous?” It made her feel miserable to fight with her best friend, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. And she knew Honey must be feeling just as awful. Honey hardly ever got mad.
    “Because everybody else likes him so much,’ Honey fumed. “That’s why! And because you’re afraid Miss Trask is going to m-marry him!”
    “Marry him?” Trixie hooted. “Jeepers, Honey, she only just met