The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

Trixie sighed. “We don’t know a thing about the man. For example, what about that huge roll of bills he asked Anne to put in the safe for him last night? I think there’s something—”
    “Strange about him,” the others chorused.
    “He may not be a professional con man, like I thought at first,” Trixie went on stubbornly. “He did bring our money back, and he did save Honey’s life, but I can’t help it. I simply don’t like him. All that stuff he says to Miss Trask sounds so phony.”
    There was a short silence.
    “I have to admit I don’t quite trust this whirlwind courtship, either,” Jim said finally, and Trixie could have hugged him.
    “Well, what are we going to do about it?” she demanded.
    “The main thing we have to consider is Miss Trask’s feelings,” Jim said slowly. “We don’t want her getting hurt—by us or by Mr. McDuff. So we don’t want to do anything rash.”
    “Right,” said Mart. “If we butt in and she doesn’t want us to, we could lose her even sooner than you think, Trixie.”
    “So it looks like we’ll have to take a wait-and-see attitude,” Honey said thoughtfully, “and not do anything till we have more to go on.”
    The boys agreed and turned to Trixie.
    “I suppose you’re right,” said Trixie. Her friends were always so cautious. But then, she herself was often too hasty.

    Whatever McDuff’s intentions were toward Miss Trask, the Bob-Whites became aware that they couldn’t have found a better guide. By the end of a day of sight-seeing around the nearby countryside, with McDuff at the wheel, even Trixie had to admit that they’d had a marvelous time. And they had gained a little knowledge about their case, besides.
    That night, the four Bob-Whites talked over the day’s discoveries as they waited for dinner to be served in the Crimson Room at Hartfield House. They were also waiting for Miss Trask and McDuff, who had decided to get dressed for the theater before their dinner.
    Each of the young people had seen sights that day that had had particular appeal to his or her interests and ambitions.
    “As far as the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency is concerned,” Trixie said near the end of their long discussion, “the most important thing was getting to see Shakespeare’s father’s house and his mother’s house. It’s wonderful to be able to get such a clear picture of how the Shakespeares lived. And I just can’t get over how all those four-hundred-year-old houses are still in such good shape!”
    “His mother’s house was what got me,” Mart said. “Mary Arden’s farm. With a dairy and all those old milk pails and things they made cheese and butter with, and a cider mill—”
    “And the stable!” Jim added enthusiastically. He was crazy about horses.
    “And all those old plows and sowing and harvesting gadgets,” Mart went on. “I could have stayed there a week.”
    “I thought Mary Arden’s house was beautiful,” Honey agreed. “I just love these old Elizabethan kitchens, with those huge stone fireplaces and big brass pots.”
    “No dishwasher, though,” sniffed Trixie.
    “That’s right,” Mart said, poker-faced. “No one had got around to inventing Trixie Beldens by the sixteenth century!”
    “I wonder if almost-twin brothers had been invented then,” said Trixie sweetly. “Anyway, what am I complaining about? I’m getting out of all my chores at home for a whole week!”
    “Me, too,” said Mart. “Except for the chore of keeping my little sister in line!”
    Before Trixie could think of a retort, Honey said, “I wonder what’s keeping Miss Trask and Mr. McDuff. If we don’t get started with dinner soon, we won’t have time to get properly dressed for the theater.”
    “What are you wearing, Honey?” Trixie asked her friend anxiously.
    “Well, I notice that Anne’s father has been going to the theater every night, and he’s been wearing a tux, so I suppose that means we should wear our very best.”
    Mart clapped his hand to his forehead. “Good heavens!” he cried. “We’ve forgotten our tuxes, haven’t we, James?”
    Jim nodded ruefully. “That’s right, Martin. I guess we’ll just have to wear our jeans, won’t we?”
    “You can't wear jeans —” Honey began, and then she noticed the twinkle in Jim’s green eyes. “You guys are too much,” she snorted.
    Jim whistled, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. He wasn’t looking at Honey, however.
    McDuff and Miss Trask were entering the