The Mystery off Old Telegraph Road

collection.”
    Mr. Belden took the note from Bobby and examined it carefully for a moment: “It certainly is pretty, Bobby.” He passed the note to Trixie. “Look at it closely. Do you see the gray stripe that runs down the left side of the bill? On the real thing, that’s made of platinum. It’s put right into the paper to make it difficult to duplicate. On this bill, the line is simply printed onto the bill with gray ink. But since this kind of paper can be printed on only one side at a time, it’s hard to get the lines to hit exactly the same place on both sides. If you hold the bill up to the light, you can see that the lines aren’t in quite the same spot.”
    By this time, Brian, Mart, and Honey were all clustered around Trixie, looking over her shoulder at the bill. When Trixie held it up to the light, they all saw the shadow of the second line showing through from the other side.
    “Gleeps!” Trixie exclaimed. “Then that means that this bill is phony!”
    “That’s right,” Peter Belden agreed. “I think that also explains why it’s charred. The counterfeiters realized that this bill couldn’t be passed off as the real thing, so they tried to burn it— probably along with a whole batch of poorly printed bills. This one somehow didn’t bum completely.”
    “Let’s call the police!” Trixie said, jumping up from her chair so abruptly that she almost collided with Mart, who was still standing behind her.
    “The police will certainly have to be notified,” Mrs. Belden said. “Brian can drive you to the police station tomorrow morning before school. Right now, we have dishes and homework to worry about, in that order.”
    “Oh, Moms,” Trixie moaned. She didn’t continue her protest, however, because her mother was wearing the “no nonsense” look that meant further discussion would not be permitted. Okay, I’ll wait until tomorrow , she thought, but don’t blame me if I simply explode from excitement before then! Back in Trixie’s room after dishes and homework were finished, Honey tried to distract Trixie by talking about the bikeathon. “I think it’s going to be a big success, don’t you, Trixie?”
    “Oh, I’m sure it is, Honey,” Trixie replied. “I had thought we might have to set up the sign-up booth several times to get enough people, but everyone was so enthusiastic about it today. I think the kids at Sleepyside are just terrific, don’t you?”
    To Trixie’s surprise, her friend suddenly burst into tears. “Not all the kids are terrific, Trixie. Some of them are just horrid, and you know who I mean. When Ben and his friends started saying those awful things, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
    “I’m really frightened, Trixie. I’ve tried to deny it, but Ben has changed a lot. He used to be just a practical joker, but now— Now he seems so hard and cruel. I know he’s going to wind up in some kind of terrible trouble.
    “It’s all my fault, Trixie. I try to be nice to him and spend time with him, but I know he can tell that I don’t approve of him, and that just makes him worse.” Honey’s voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
    “It isn’t your fault, Honey,” Trixie assured her. “If anyone could turn Ben Riker around, it’s you, with all your sympathy and tact. Some people just don’t want any help. Nick Roberts is like that, too.”
    For the first time, Trixie confided to Honey all the details of Nick’s strange behavior, from refusing to do the posters to tearing one off the wall at school. She also told Honey what she’d learned from Mr. Crider about Nick’s unhappy background. “I’m trying to be patient with him because of that, just as you’re trying to be patient with Ben. Still, I can’t help but feel that all the sympathy I have for Nick, which is what got me involved in the whole bikeathon idea in the first place, is being wasted on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.” Hearing Trixie’s troubles had made Honey forget her own, and now it was she who tried to reassure her friend. “You shouldn’t feel that it’s all a waste, Trixie. The bikeathon is for everyone in the art department, not just Nick Roberts. Think about how grateful Amy Morrisey will feel if we raise enough money for another pottery wheel, so that she can get the practice she needs to become a really good potter.”
    “I know you’re right, Honey,” Trixie admitted. “It’s just so hard not to feel depressed