The Mystery off Old Telegraph Road

excused, Bobby,” Mrs. Belden said. When he had left the room, she told Trixie, “I’m sure that once the ’s’prise’ wears off, Bobby will be willing to try to redeem the money and give you half of it as a finder’s fee.”
    “Maybe,” Trixie said ruefully. “But even if he doesn’t, I haven’t really lost anything, since I probably would have just thrown it away.” She turned to her older brothers. “How did both of you happen to know what it was?”
    “Elementary, my dear Trixie,” Mart said smugly. “Actually, Trixie, I saw a picture of a fifty-deutsche-mark note just recently,” Brian said. “It was in one of Dad’s banking magazines. Unfortunately, I didn’t read the article that went with the picture, and I couldn’t begin to tell you which magazine it was.”
    “Perhaps your father will remember when he gets home on Wednesday,” Mrs. Belden said. “Meanwhile, there are dishes to be done. Trixie—”
    “I know,” Trixie said. “It’s Mart’s turn to help, but he helped set the table, so I—”
    “Should kindly volunteer to take my turn with dishes,” Mart concluded, getting up from the table. “Thanks, Sis.”

    While she was drying the dishes, Trixie thought about the bank note, wondering how a piece of German money had wound up blown against a hedge on Old Telegraph Road. The Sleepyside Sun, like most small-town newspapers, kept careful track of local comings and goings, and if someone in the area had taken a tour of Germany, the paper would certainly have reported it. Trixie couldn’t remember any mention of such a trip.
    Of course, I might not have paid any attention to the article at the time , Trixie thought as she folded her dish towel. Maybe Honey would know.
    Trixie walked to the phone and picked up the receiver before she remembered the bad feeling that had surfaced between her and her best friend.
    Gleeps, she thought. Tm so used to confiding everything in Honey that it’s impossible to remember that — She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized what she’d been thinking—that she and Honey might, in fact, not be best friends anymore.
    She stared at the dial for a few seconds, wondering if she should try to call Honey anyway. Hanging up the telephone, she thought, I can’t do it—not tonight. I guess I’m just a coward after all. I can’t stand the idea of calling and having Honey refuse to speak to me—or still be as angry as she was this morning.
    Trixie hung up the phone and wandered upstairs to her room. Trying to find something to occupy her restless mind, she leafed through some magazines, tried to get interested in a book, and finally went to her dresser and began cleaning out the drawers.
    A few moments later, Mart wandered by and saw Trixie neatly refolding sweaters and arranging them in the top drawer. He knocked on the already-open door and came into the room.
    “I deduce,” he said, “that my younger sister is in the throes of a peculiar psychological condition, which seems to manifest itself in trying to achieve order in the chaos that is her room. To what, might I ask, may we attribute this odd—albeit welcome— situation?”
    “Oh, Mart,” Trixie moaned, “what am I going to do?” She told Mart all about her fight that morning with Honey, including Honey’s charge that Trixie was more interested in getting attention for herself than in helping others.
    To Trixie’s surprise, her usually quarrelsome brother listened patiently and, when she had finished, responded soberly.
    “I’m really sorry, Trix,” he said. “It seems to me that everything has gone topsy-turvy since that Ben Riker came to Sleepyside. I know this sounds cruel, but I wish he’d either straighten up or do something really bad, so that he’d be sent away.”
    Mart scowled, and Trixie found the comers of her mouth turning up in a smile as she realized that his face was probably the image of the way her own had looked all evening. Mart and Trixie looked enough alike to be taken for twins.
    “Anyway,” Mart continued, “as for what Honey said about you— Well, Trixie, it’s true, at least in part. Everybody wants praise and encouragement from others. That’s just human nature. It explains why Ben and his crowd make trouble: They get encouragement and praise from each other for it. The difference is that your acts are intended to help others, and that, my dear sister, is nothing to be ashamed of.”
    Trixie looked at the floor as tears