The Mystery off Glen Road

pockets, you might get by with it for a while. But you can’t do that at your Thanksgiving party.”
    “I can’t do it and eat dinner every evening, either,” Trixie pointed out tartly. Suddenly she brightened. “Now that Di has broken my heart and all, do I have to dress up for dinner every night?” Honey thought for a moment. “I guess not, but you’ve simply got to look sad for at least a couple of days.”'
    “I am sad,” Trixie retorted. “I’m so darn sad, I’m thinking seriously of running away from home and staying until I can get that ring back from Mr. Lytell.”
    Honey laughed. “Now you’re talking like Bobby. Every time he gets into a scrape, he runs away. Thank goodness he never runs any farther than your chicken coop or Regan’s apartment over the garage.”
    Trixie shrugged. “Most of the time Bobby doesn’t have sense enough to know when he’s done something awful. Remember what a scare he gave us when he lost that diamond we found in the clubhouse, when it was still the gatehouse?”
    “He didn’t lose it,” Honey reminded her. “He put it accidentally in the safest possible place.”
    “Oh!” Trixie slid off the window seat and raced over to Honey’s dainty dressing table. She grabbed the jewel box and brought it back to Honey. “This thing is jam-packed with costume jewelry. There must be a phony diamond ring in it that looks enough like mine so I can wear it for a week.” Honey gasped. “Trixie, you’re so smart. There is one somewhere.” She dumped the contents on the window seat, and they both stared at the jumbled mass of pins, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings. “I don’t know where one thing begins and another one ends,” Honey complained as she tried to disentangle the various bright stones and strands.
    Trixie held her breath until they were all sorted; then she let it out in a long, discouraged sigh. “Nine rings, but not one of them with anything that faintly resembles a diamond. And you’re supposed to be my best friend, Honey Wheeler.”
    Honey giggled. “Have no fears, I shall not fail you. I remember now where that diamond ring is. Mother borrowed it from me when she went to a masquerade as the Queen of Sheba. It must be in her costume jewelry box.” She led the way down the hall and into Mrs. Wheeler’s beautiful room. She marched over to the dressing table, lifted the cover on a handsome leather case, took out a tray, and cried triumphantly, “Behold, comrade! In fact, take your choice. There are four, to be exact.” Trixie peered over Honey’s shoulder. “Are you sure these are all fakes?” she asked in an awed tone.
    “Of course,” Honey replied. “They’re not even good paste imitations. Mother has tons of those, of course, which look exactly like her valuable jewels, but they’re so expensive to make, she keeps them under lock and key. All the stuff in this box is just junk she wears for fun.” She took out one of the rings. “This looks enough like yours so if you don’t get too close to somebody who knows all about precious stones, you’ll get by with it.”
    Trixie hesitated before she slipped it on her finger. “It’s kind of loose,” she murmured nervously. “Suppose I lose it? How much is it worth, Honey?”
    “About a dollar,” Honey said airily. “Anyway, it’s mine, so don’t worry. I hereby give it to you, to have and to hold or to lose, but please don’t lose it until you get your own back.”
    “Gee, thanks,” Trixie said as they went back into Honey’s room. For a moment she felt guilty. Honey was such a good friend! She really should tell her that she was going to go back and examine the Thing. But if she did, Honey would argue against it. She would be very sympathetic, but she would say, “I know just how you feel. I won’t be able to sleep tonight, either, because of my guilty conscience. But it’ll be dark before you get there. You might get lost in the labyrinth. The dogs will be shut up indoors all night, so tomorrow morning, when we patrol before school, will be soon enough.”
    Right now Honey was saying, “I wish you’d stay for hot chocolate and cookies, Trix. The boys are coming to my little party, because it’ll be too dark to work on the clubhouse after four-thirty. We won’t have much fun without you, but I know just how you feel. You’d have to put on an act and pretend to be jealous, and you must be awfully tired, what with the chores you have to do at home and all.”