The Mystery off Glen Road

much cooler after sundown and that she would be in and out of doors receiving guests until the last one arrived. Hastily she clasped Di’s necklace around her throat, slipped on Honey’s “diamond” ring, and raced down the stairs to help her mother.
    The first arrival, she saw from the hall, was Mr. Lytell. It would never do for him to see her with another “diamond” ring. He would be sure to make comments in that nosy way of his! And the trouble with “party” skirts was that there were no pockets in them.
    In a panic, Trixie yanked the ring off her finger and dropped it into a brass bowl on the nearby butterfly table. “As Bobby would say,” she told herself, “I’ll ’trieve it as soon as Mr. Lytell leaves.”
    But just then Miss Trask arrived and promptly offered to help serve food and punch. Mrs. Belden gratefully accepted the offer, and so, of course, Mr. Lytell followed Miss Trask into the dining room, hovering at her elbow.
    Trixie had always suspected that Mr. Lytell was in love with Miss Trask, and now she knew it. “He’ll never leave until she leaves,” she moaned to Honey around five o’clock. “And you know Miss Trask. She’ll stay on and help with the dishes if she thinks we need her. Can’t you get rid of her so I can wear my ring?” She giggled nervously. “I mean, your ring, Honey!”
    Honey smiled. “Nobody’s going to notice that you’re not wearing it, Trixie. There must be five million people here. I’ll bet you could go around with a ring in your nose like a Fiji Islander, and your parents would never know the difference.”
    It was eight o’clock before the crowd began to thin. Brian and Mart, who had been supervising the parking and departure of cars, came in then, ravenously hungry. Miss Trask, with Mr. Lytell still hovering at her elbow, served them huge platters of food.
    As the boys moved away from the table, Brian said to Trixie, “Hey, squaw. Bring me some hot buttered rolls.”
    Trixie, hot, tired, and cross, clenched her fist and shook it under his nose. “Get ’em yourself, Sitting Bull.”
    He grabbed her wrist with his free hand. “Why the naked little fingers?” he demanded. Trixie knew that he was just as hot and tired and cross as she was, but she jerked away from him, and the food on his plate slid off onto the floor. Reddy promptly appeared from nowhere, grabbed a turkey leg, nosed open the screen door to the terrace, and disappeared into the darkness.
    “Gleeps,” Mart yelled. “Those bones will kill him.” He dashed off in pursuit of the red setter, and Brian glared angrily at Trixie.
    “Can’t you ever do anything without causing trouble?” he demanded. “After all that fuss about your silly old diamond ring, why aren’t you wearing it?”
    Out of the corner of one eye, Trixie saw that Mr. Lytell had heard every word. He had been bending over Miss Trask’s chair at the other end of the table, but now he straightened. If he had been a dog, Trixie decided, his ears would have pricked up with interest.
    “Answer me,” Brian was saying irritably. “Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”
    “Because I lost it in the potato salad,” Trixie retorted. “Di’s father ate it, and he seems to be still alive, so I’m not going to worry about Reddy and a few turkey bones. He’s been swiping them for years.”
    Brian, his good nature immediately restored, burst into loud laughter. “Are you trying to tell me that Mr. Lynch, one of the richest men in North America, has been swiping diamond rings for years? Or were you referring to Reddy’s thieving habits?” He took his hand from Trixie’s wrist and gave her an affectionate hug. “Clean up the mess I spilled, like a good girl, and I won’t ask you any more embarrassing questions.”
    Trixie pushed him away from her. “Clean it up yourself. If you only knew it, Brian Belden, I’ve already done more than enough for you as it is.”
    She fled out to the terrace, straight into the arms of Ben Riker.
    “Say,” he said when they had laughingly disentangled themselves, “that kid brother of yours is cute. The trouble with me is that I’m an only child. I’ve learned a lot this week from hanging around you Beldens and Jim and Honey. And Di, too. You guys are always so busy, you don’t have time for practical jokes. I realize now that they’re kid stuff. Why, even Bobby knows better. He’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys. I wish my mother would adopt him.”
    “He is cute,”