The Mystery off Old Telegraph Road

about it. Here I am, supposedly an expert at solving mysteries. Right now I’m surrounded by people acting in mysterious ways, and I can’t begin to figure any of them out.”
    “Who’s acting mysteriously besides Nick and Ben?” Honey asked.
    “Well, there’s Mart, for one. You know how quarrelsome he usually is. But the other night, when I was so upset about our fight, he was nice as can be. He hasn’t even teased me about it since you and I made up. That isn’t like him at all.
    “For that matter, what about me? Don’t you think it’s pretty mysterious for me to go off and leave the clubhouse window open and all the art supplies out, and then not even to be able to remember doing it?”
    Honey gave Trixie a hug as she replied. “Those things aren’t very mysterious. Mart’s devoted to you, although he tries not to show it. It’s perfectly natural that he’d be sympathetic when he knew you were really hurt. And we already figured out that you left the mess in the clubhouse because you were so upset about our fight.”
    “Oh, I was, Honey,” Trixie said. “Even if I never figure out Nick Roberts and Ben Riker, I won’t be half as upset as I was when I didn’t know if you and I would ever be friends again. Let’s never, ever have another fight!”
    Honey giggled. “After all your talk about how hard people are to figure out, you should know that it’s hard to guarantee that we’ll never, ever fight again. I will promise that I’ll at least try not to get angry. Although,” she added, “if I don’t get some sleep, I’ll be as grouchy as a bear tomorrow morning. There’s only one way to prevent that. Good night, Trixie.”
    “Good night, Honey,” Trixie said, switching off the light.
    As she drifted off to sleep, Trixie thought again about the counterfeit deutsche mark and the visit she would make to the police station the next morning. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was on the brink of another mystery—one that might be easier to solve than the mysterious behavior of Nick Roberts and Ben Riker.

Suspicions Coincidences • 10

    IN SCHOOL the next morning, Trixie thought back to her disappointing interview with Sergeant Molinson.
    The sergeant had confirmed her father’s opinion that the bill was a counterfeit. He had thanked her for bringing it in and complimented her on her “eagle eye” for having seen the bill against the hedge.
    But when Trixie had asked him eagerly if that meant the forgers were operating out of Sleepyside, Sergeant Molinson had responded with a stem warning against getting involved.
    “Forgery is a federal offense, Trixie,” he’d said.
    “That means that the people involved may be desperate—far too dangerous for an amateur detective to get involved with, no matter how much success she’s had in the past.
    “Besides, finding the bill on Old Telegraph Road isn’t much of a lead as to where it came from. The spring winds in this part of the country could blow a piece of paper like that for miles. Or it could have blown off a truck that the forgers were using to take a whole batch of money somewhere to dispose of it.
    “At any rate, I’ll see that the proper officials are notified, and that they know who turned in the bill. You’ll probably get a nice letter of thanks when the case is solved, and I want that to be the end of your part in this.”
    Then he gave me that stern look of his, Trixie remembered. I guess that’s that. Someone else will have to track down the forgers, while I worry about the bikeathon and my math homework.
    At the end of the day, Di, Honey, and Trixie left the school building together. As they walked, Trixie filled Di in on the discovery of the counterfeit deutsche mark and her meeting with Sergeant Molinson.
    “He’s right, you know, Trixie,” Di said. “Those people could spend a long time in jail if they get caught. I wouldn’t want to be the one who catches them. Although,” she added, “right now I think I’d rather face a gang of counterfeiters than visit my dentist, which is what I have to do. The toothache that kept me home from school on Monday still isn’t much better, so my mother made an appointment for me.”
    “Then that’s why you weren’t on the bus this morning,” Honey guessed. “You got a ride into town.”
    “Not exactly,” Di said. “Actually, I rode my bike. It was such a nice morning, and I felt it was only right that I, as one of the leaders of the bikeathon, should be