The Mystery of the Velvet Gown

headed east on Glen Road toward Manor House.
    “Why don’t you drop us off at the end of our drive?” Jim suggested. “I know you’re anxious to get Reddy home.”
    “Okay,” Brian agreed. “Thanks.”
    The Beldens waved good-bye to their friends as they headed for Crabapple Farm.
    Bobby must have been waiting at the back door, for as the station wagon crunched to a halt on the gravel driveway, he came flying out, flung open the car door, and threw his arms around Reddy’s neck.
    Trixie, Brian, and Mart got out of the car and stood watching the confused scene. Reddy was wriggling from head to tail and trying to cover every inch of Bobby with his sloppy kisses. Bobby was giggling and crying and trying to hug Reddy, all at the same time.
    Though her eyes were moist, Trixie burst into laughter and dove into the tangle to hug her brother and the frantic dog.
    “Hey, Trixie,” Bobby gulped happily. “Reddy’s not mad at me!”
    “Of course not, honey,” Trixie laughed, fending off the exuberant dog. “He loves you!” Somehow, the three older Beldens untangled the boy and the dog, and Brian carried Reddy inside to his waiting bed.
    Dinner that evening was a hectic affair, but no one minded. It was far past his bedtime when Bobby finally settled down enough to fall asleep.
    Trixie fell into bed, exhausted by the events of the day. She lay awake for some time, however, going over the encounter with Miss Darcy in the drama club office. Her thoughts became more and more confused, until finally she decided to stop trying to figure things out.
    I do know one thing , though, Trixie thought grimly. I don’t know why, but I do know that Miss Darcy wasn’t sewing those decorations onto the costumes—she was cutting them off!

New York City Adventure ● 8

    HELEN BELDEN gently shook her daughter’s shoulder, rousing her out of a deep sleep. “Trixie,” she said.
    “Wh-what?” Trixie asked, bleary-eyed and confused. “Moms, isn’t it Saturday?” she mumbled, glancing at the bedside clock.
    “Yes, dear, but Miss Trask just called. Her sister in New York City came down with a stomach virus yesterday, and Miss Trask is going to take the eight-thirty train in to do some errands and laundry for her. She asked if you would like to go along with them. Apparently,
    Honey has asked to go along.”
    Trixie was suddenly wide awake. “Boy, would I! But, Moms,” Trixie sighed, looking somewhat sheepish, “what about....”
    “The chores,” her mother finished for her. “Miss Trask said she plans to catch the two o’clock train back this afternoon, so you’ll have time to finish whatever I don’t get done today. I’ll help you out—just this once.” Mrs. Belden smiled.
    “Moms, you’re terrific!” Trixie cried, giving her mother a quick hug. “I must be the luckiest girl in the world.”
    Mrs. Belden laughed. “I don’t know about the luckiest, but you certainly are one of the most active. Now, hurry up and get dressed. They’re going to stop on their way to the train station to pick you up.”
    Trixie hurriedly pulled on a pair of blue wool pants and a sweater. I can't believe it, she thought. What luck!
    She and Honey had spent an hour on the phone the night before, which had brought a scolding from Peter Belden about tying up the phone lines. “But,” Trixie had wailed, “it was so important, I just had to talk to her!”
    “Of course you did,” Mart had teased. “Nobody could walk around with as many secrets and important things to discuss as you do. You had to tell someone before you burst. Fortunately, Honey will listen to you. It saves us, at least.”
    Trixie had almost taken the bait, but then she’d thought twice about it and had laughed it off. Mart is already watching me too closely, she’d warned herself. I'd better play it cool for a while, at least until I have some more evidence.
    She’d told Honey everything she’d learned from Bill Morgan about the pictures, and she’d admitted that while she suspected Peter Ashbury of stealing the film, she hadn’t yet figured out why or how. She had related the whole incident with Miss Darcy after school.
    “See, Honey?” she had said. “There is something strange about Peter Ashbury and those costumes and Miss Darcy, if only we could figure out what the link is.”
    Honey had been puzzled by everything, too, and had said, quite offhandedly, “If only we could tail Mr. Ashbury for a while....”
    Trixie had been secretly pleased