The Mystery of the Uninvited Ghost

and walked around the building to the kitchen door. There she found Hallie with a tall glass of lemonade in her hand. The cook was preparing an order that had just come in from room 214, while a maid waited at the table with Hallie.
    As the cook handed the tray to the maid, Hallie bounced up. To Trixie’s amazement, Hallie seemed to deliberately dump her lemonade all over the maid.
    “I’m sorry,” Hallie said. “Here. Give me your cap. I’ll carry the tray while you change your uniform. Room two-fourteen, you said?” And she was on her way before the cook could voice any objection.
    Hallie returned almost at once. She took off the cap, thanked the cook for the lemonade, and pulled Trixie out of the kitchen.
    “Why’d you do such a rude thing?” Trixie demanded sternly.
    Hallie’s eyes widened enormously while she whispered, “Trixie, guess what! That tray was ordered for Miss Ryks, but she wasn’t in the room! The bathroom door was open. There was no place to hide!”
    “Gleeps!” Trixie gulped. “I just talked to that Dick Ryks and gave him the invitation. Wasn’t he there either?”
    “Oh, sure. He was sitting by the window in her wheelchair, with his feet on a table and a pile of magazines on the floor.”
    “I don’t get it,” Trixie admitted. “I want to stop at the desk for a minute. I have a question to ask that clerk.”
    The gossipy clerk looked surprised, and so did Hallie, when Trixie didn’t mention Miss Ryks. Instead, she asked about Ella Kline.
    “Yes,” the clerk answered. “She has a room up on the third floor, but she isn’t in right now. In fact, I believe she can t be reached for a week.”
    “I know,” Trixie told him. “She’s working for my friends the Wheelers. Sewing.”
    “That’s what she does here,” the clerk said.
    “She must find it hard,” Trixie said speculatively, “to manage her crutches on these slick stairs and halls. I would think she could get along better with a wheelchair like Miss Ryks has.”
    “Funny you should mention that,” said the desk clerk. “Miss Ryks’s chair is rented from Miss Kline. Since Miss Ryks will be with us such a short time, she didn’t find it convenient to bring her own chair.”
    “A short time?” Trixie repeated.
    The clerk laced his fingers and leaned over his high desk, all set to gossip. “I thought she might have told you that she’s only with us through the first week in August.”
    “She’ll be here for the wedding at the Wheelers?”
    “I’m sure of it. She made quite a point of letting all of us know that she’s well connected socially.”
    Trixie caught her breath. “Thank you,” she said. The clerk didn’t seem to know what he was being thanked for, but he said, Tm sure you’re welcome.” Trixie and Hallie left the desk hurriedly.
    On their way out, they passed a pigeon-shaped, overdressed short woman, who was busily stripping bracelets and rings from her arms and hands. As she advanced on the reception desk, she gave orders to the clerk in a foghorn voice. “Take these up to the manager s safe, and tell him I won t be needing them for a few days!”
    “Yes, Mrs. Boyer,” the clerk said, holding out a plump hand. While the girls watched, Mrs. Boyer added a necklace and earrings to the glittering pile. When she went to the elevator, she looked like any middle-class housewife who had played bridge all afternoon.
    Hallie gave a long whistle. “Do you suppose those diamonds are real?”
    “You’d better believe it,” Trixie said. “That’s Mrs. Boyer. I’ve never met her face-to-face. She’s got more money than the Wheelers and Lynches have put together!”
    “And she lives here?” Hallie asked in amazement. “She’s eccentric,” Trixie said.
    As they pedaled up Glen Road, Trixie said, Tm not sure exactly what information that clerk gave us.”
    “That Ella Kline was the one who ordered the chair in the first place,” Hallie said.
    “Yes. But how could Miss Ryks know that?”
    “Maybe she already knew Ella Kline.”
    “We can check that with Ella. We don’t know how long Miss Ryks has been at the inn, but we know she’ll be here for two more weeks—till the wedding.”
    “She’s been here at least three days,” Hallie mused. “She called Hans on Tuesday and gave her address as the inn.”
    “A fat lot of good that address does anyone. She’s never in —or she’s indisposed,” Trixie grumbled.
    “In the inn!” Hallie chanted. “I’d feel sick, too, if I