The secret of the Mansion

realizes that. And you know what? He told me if he had any trouble, he’d get a job on a cattle boat. If he does that, we may never see him again." She sighed. "I like Jim an awful lot, Trixie. I like him just as much as if he were my own brother. I wish we could fix things so Dad could adopt him."
    "I wish so, too." She tossed a pebble into the woods. "I think we ought to keep right on looking for that money. I’ve got one of your premonitions about it. I’m sure it’s there somewhere, and I don’t think Jim really looked hard enough, because he doesn’t believe in it."
    "He couldn’t possibly have gone through every one of those boxes and barrels in such a short time," Honey agreed. "Let’s all give the downstairs another thorough search tomorrow."
    "Great!" Trixie waved good-bye as Honey got on her bicycle. "Have fun on your ride this afternoon."
    "Thanks," Honey called over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow."
    Trixie’s parents were upstairs with Bobby when she got home. From the downstairs hall, Trixie could hear her father’s voice droning on and on, so she guessed that he was probably reading Bobby to sleep.
    While Trixie stood there listening, her mother came quietly down the stairs with a tray of empty dishes. "Sh-h," she whispered to Trixie as they went out into the kitchen. "Bobby’s had his lunch, and I think he’ll fall asleep in a few minutes. A good long nap would do him a world of good."
    Trixie nodded. "If anyone can read him to sleep, it’s Dad. I can remember when I was Bobby’s age and had mumps and measles, he used to tell me stories or read to me. His voice is so soothing, I used to fall into sort of a stupor right away, although I tried like anything not to." She gave her mother an impulsive hug. "Oh, Moms, I’m so glad I was born into this family. I feel so sorry for people like Honey and Ji—" She stopped herself just in time, and added hastily, "Honey just never seems to have any fun with her father and mother the way Bobby and Brian and Mart and I do. I’m so glad we’re not rich."
    "So am I," Mrs. Belden said with a smile. "It’s much more fun to work for the things you want than to have them given to you on a silver platter. Speaking of which," she added with a chuckle, "will you rinse and dry our silver platter? Dad will be down in a few minutes to carve the turkey."
    "Yummy-yum," Trixie said, sniffing. "It smells delicious, Moms. I hope you put a lot of onions in the stuffing."
    "I did," Mrs. Belden said as she took a big green glass bowl from the cupboard. "Let’s not bother with cooked vegetables. If we eat all we want of the turkey and stuffing we won’t have room for more than a tossed green salad."
    "Yummy-yum," Trixie said again, in full agreement. "You fix that special salad dressing of yours, Moms, and I’ll slice tomatoes and peppers and leeks and shred the lettuce."
    "Fine," Mrs. Belden said. "We make a good team, Trixie. While we work, please tell me more about your new friend. I’m very interested in Honey. I think she’s a lovely girl, but, of course, I don’t know her as well as you do."
    "She is just lovely in every way," Trixie cried enthusiastically. "I wasn’t crazy about her at first, Moms. I thought she was a sissy. But she isn’t. She’s scared and nervous about a lot of things because she isn’t used to living in the country. I mean, she’s sure that every ropelike vine is a snake and all leaves are poison ivy, and things like that. And, of course, not having had any brothers makes an awful difference."
    Trixie scooped the core and seeds out of a big green pepper and began to slice it on the wooden chopping board. "I guess I never realized before," she said thoughtfully, "how important brothers are. Brian and Mart drive me wild sometimes because they’re forever teasing me, and Bobby, well, he’s darling, but he can be an—an—"
    "An awful nuisance," Mrs. Belden finished cheerfully. "But, Trixie, if you ever had to be separated from him for very long, you’d find that you missed him dreadfully. Brian and Mart have found that out while they’ve been at camp. With every letter they write me they enclose a note full of funny drawings for Bobby."
    "I know," Trixie said. "Oh, Moms, let’s not tell them about Bobby and the copperhead. Brian and Mart would just die from worry, and the worst is over now. He really is going to be all right, isn’t he, Moms?"
    "He’s fine," Trixie’s mother said emphatically. "And all due to you, Trixie.