The Mystery of the Velvet Gown

wish I knew,” Trixie sighed.
    Just then, much to Trixie’s relief, Bill Morgan walked into the office. She jumped up to greet him. He was a tall, good-looking boy with sandy-colored hair and pale green eyes.
    “Hi, Bill,” Trixie said, smiling. “I’m Trixie Belden.”
    “Oh, yeah!” He smiled back. “I’ve heard my kid sister talk about you.”
    I’m sure you have, Trixie thought grimly.
    Monica got up from her desk. “I’ve got to run,” she said. “See you later, Bill. It was nice meeting you, Trixie.”
    As Monica left, Trixie breathed a soft sigh of relief. She didn’t want to talk to Bill in front of her, especially since she was a mystery fan.
    “So what can I do for you, Trixie Belden?”
    Bill Morgan asked jovially. “If you want to work on the paper, I’m sorry, but freshmen—“
    “Oh, no,” Trixie assured him. “I only came to ask you about some pictures you took of the costumes for the freshman class play.”
    Bill eyed her suspiciously. “You’re the second person who’s asked me about those pictures.“
    “Oh?” Trixie asked innocently.
    “Yeah. The drama teacher’s boyfriend, Mr. Ashbury, wanted some copies of them. He offered to pay me a good price for them, too. But now—” Bill stopped and looked at Trixie again. “Why do you want them, anyway?”
    “Actually,” Trixie began, groping frantically for an excuse, “my friend Di Lynch is playing Juliet, and I wanted to put together a kind of scrapbook of the play for her as a surprise. You know—” Trixie paused. “I thought the pictures would be a nice thing to add.”
    “Yeah, well, sorry I can’t help you out.” Bill shrugged.
    “Why not?” Trixie asked.
    “I can’t exactly give you copies of pictures I don’t have,” Bill snapped.
    “What do you mean, you don’t have them?“
    “The film is gone—poof!” he cried, gesturing like a magician doing a disappearing act. “I thought I had left it in the camera, but when I came back here to develop it after school yesterday, it was gone. I’ve looked everywhere, and I’ve asked everyone who works on the paper, but it hasn’t turned up yet. I guess both you and Mr. Ashbury are out of luck—until I take some more pictures, that is, and Miss Darcy won’t let me do that until next week.”
    “She won’t?” Trixie asked, trying hard to contain her excitement.
    “Nope.” Bill shrugged. “I didn’t ask why, but it’s really not important. The Gazette doesn’t want the article for a couple of weeks yet, anyway. I was just going to write to Mr. Ashbury and tell him the film had been lost.“
    “Did he say why he wanted the pictures?” Trixie asked, as casually as she could.
    “No.” Bill shook his head. “You know, you certainly ask a lot of questions.”
    “Just curious,” Trixie laughed lightly. “Well, I’d better run. I have to eat before rehearsal.” She left quickly, before Bill could become even more suspicious of her curiosity.
    Trixie’s head was spinning as she walked down the stairs toward the cafeteria. I’ll bet that film isn’t lost, she thought excitedly. I’ll bet someone took it, and that someone could very well be Peter Ashbury! She wished she had asked for Ashbury’s address, but she hadn’t dared—Bill Morgan had been getting too suspicious as it was. I think I need a shift chart for this case, she giggled to herself.
    Trixie glanced at her watch and realized that it was time for rehearsal and she hadn’t eaten her lunch yet. She hurried to the auditorium. It seemed that all she’d been doing that day was rushing from one place to the next. And now my stomach will be growling all afternoon, like Reddy when he sees a jackrabbit! She groaned at the thought.
    But the afternoon flew by, and Trixie didn’t again think about missing lunch, until she met the rest of the Bob-Whites after school.
    “Boy, am I famished!” she cried, climbing into the backseat of the station wagon. “I hope my lunch is still fresh.”
    “That sounds like a typical Mart greeting,” Brian said, “but it has a definitely higher pitch. Where were you at lunch today, Trixie?”
    “I had some things to do.” Trixie shrugged as she unwrapped a sandwich and eagerly took a bite. “You know,” she said between mouthfuls, “I’ll never understand how Moms gets this waxed paper to work right. It’s always been a complete mystery to me.”
    Mart hooted. “Was everyone witness to that statement? Trixie admits that something is a