The Mystery of the Velvet Gown

after you receive the catalog, the costumes will arrive. You are to remove the gems, as indicated in the catalog, and store them in a safe-deposit box that has been registered in your name at the First National Bank of Sleepyside, New York. You will be contacted and instructed as to where the jewels are to be delivered. If you notify the police or anyone else about this matter, you will never see your father again. Beware. You are being watched carefully.”

    Jane leaned heavily against the wall. “You were right, then,” she said shakily. “I didn’t quite believe that those jewels were real. It’s just so hard to imagine—I feel like I’m in a movie or something!”
    “You’re not used to Trixie,” Honey said, “although even that isn’t much help now. I’m shocked, too.”
    “This must be the letter that Miss Darcy said she received the night of the accident with Reddy,” Trixie mused, “but it certainly isn’t from a ‘friend.’ ” She added slowly, “No wonder she was so upset! And you know, I think the person who intends to pick up those jewels is none other than our old friend Peter Ashbury.”
    Trixie picked up the phone and dialed directory assistance. “We’ve got to let her know that we’ve got the dress, before Ashbury finds out it was missing, or else her father—” She broke off abruptly. “The number for Eileen Darcy in Sleepyside, please.... Thank you,” she said, writing hurriedly. She broke the connection, then dialed Miss Darcy’s number.
    “There’s no answer!” Trixie wailed, dropping the receiver back into its cradle. “I wonder if— We’d better call for a cab right away.” She picked up the phone again.
    “I think we should call the police,” Jane said nervously. “If there are real jewels involved and a real kidnapping....”
    “It’s real enough, all right,” Trixie said, “but we’re not going to call the police. Not yet, anyway. We’ve got to get to your house,-Honey.”
    “My house? Why?”
    “Whom do you think Miss Darcy would turn to if she were in trouble—especially now, when the only thing that can save her father has been stolen?”
    “Miss Trask!” Honey cried. “Of course! You are so smart, Trixie.”
    “I’m afraid I’m not smart enough soon enough, sometimes,” she groaned as she dialed the cab service.
    The door of the office flew open. “Your cab is already here,” Peter Ashbury snarled. Honey and Jane whirled around. Trixie gulped as her eyes fell on the gun in his hand.
    “I know it’s impolite to eavesdrop,” he said, “but I couldn’t help overhearing your interesting conversation. So you think you’ve got the whole thing figured out, do you? Come on, you little snoops,” he said harshly, motioning toward the door. “I’ll be glad to give you a lift. After all, I do owe you a favor. You found the dress, and you’re leading me right to Eileen Darcy.”
    The three girls stood paralyzed with fear.
    “Come on!” he snapped again, grabbing the catalog and envelope from Trixie’s hands. “That stupid woman—leaving this stuff around for anyone to find!”
    He picked up the dress and folded it over the gun. “Now, move! I’ve got the car parked in the back lot. And don’t try anything tricky, or you’ll all be sorry,” he threatened. They filed out of the office and walked slowly down the corridor.

The Final Curtain ● 11

    TRIXIE SILENTLY PRAYED that someone would still be in one of the classrooms, or the janitor would be working, or that Miss Darcy would suddenly return—anything to stop them before they left the building.
    I don't dare run or scream, she thought desperately. I don't even know if I could muster the strength to whimper right now!
    She felt as if she were in a bad dream, and that if only she could concentrate hard enough, she would wake up and it would all be over. She glanced back at Peter Ashbury.
    “I meant what I said,” he whispered hoarsely. “Not one sound.”
    Trixie nodded. Poor Jane and Honey, she commiserated silently. If I'm petrified, I can’t imagine what they feel like!
    They left the school building by the rear entrance, and Ashbury herded the three girls across the parking lot to a jeeplike vehicle.
    “You two get in the back,” he growled, waving the gun at Honey and Jane. “And you, Sherlock—in front with me.”
    Trixie looked at the other two girls. Their faces were white with fear. I’ve got to do something! she thought frantically as she climbed into