The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

it.”
    “You did what you could, Daddy,” said Trixie. “Now Mrs. Elliot really needs to enter that contest—and win!”
    Mrs. Belden frowned. “Trixie, don’t build up false hopes. I’m sure Ethel doesn’t even own a camera.”
    Trixie took a bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “Daddy,” she asked after a moment, “can Mart borrow your camera?”
    “Hey! Stop putting words in my mouth,” Mart objected.
    “Mart,” Trixie pleaded, “you’re so much better with a camera than I am.”
    Mart gaped at her. “Did I hear words of adulation?”
    “And,” Trixie continued, “as a future earth-wor—as a future horticulturist, you’ll know how to photograph flowers to best advantage. Prize-winning advantage.”
    “Give up, Mart.” Peter Belden chuckled. “You haven’t got a chance. I know from experience.” He glanced from Trixie to her mother.
    “What does that mean, Peter?” Mrs. Belden asked with mock severity.
    “It means I’ve got a wonderful family, always ready to do something good for others.” He turned to Mart. “You know I’m fussy about my camera. Take good care of it.”
    Mart nodded.
    “Daddy,” Trixie said, “it’s strange that Mr. Elliot didn’t leave his wife much money when he died. Didn’t he have anything in the bank?”
    “That’s private, Trixie. But Sam Elliot didn’t bank here in Sleepyside anyway. As far as I know, he didn’t bank anywhere. Since he didn’t leave a will, several banks were contacted to see if he had accounts. None were found.”
    “Maybe he hid his money somewhere,” Mart suggested.
    Peter Belden pointed a finger at Mart. “Now, don’t go—”
    “—jumping to conclusions,” Trixie finished for her father, trying to hide the excitement she suddenly felt. “May I be excused?” she asked, pushing back her chair. “I want to call Honey. If Dan s there, maybe he’ll drive us to Mrs. Elliot’s this afternoon so Mart can take a picture of the sweet peas.” She hurried from the room.
    “Yes,” Honey said over the phone a minute later, “Dan is here. He’s having lunch with Regan. What are you so excited about, Trixie?”
    “I’ll tell you in a minute,” Trixie said. “Ask Dan if he’ll please drive us to Mrs. Elliot’s this afternoon.”
    “Okay. Hang on.”
    It seemed like an hour while Trixie waited for Honey to return to the phone.
    “Trixie? Dan said he’d drive us. Come on over after lunch. Now, what’s up?”
    “We’re in business again,” Trixie said excitedly. “Wear some grubbies—we may do some digging.”
    “You mean asking more questions?” Honey queried.
    “No, I mean digging,” Trixie said. “See you in a while.”
    When Trixie hung up the phone and turned around, Mart was standing right beside her.
    “If you think you fooled Dad and Moms, you’re wrong,” he said.
    Trixie was dismayed. “Did they say we couldn’t go to Mrs. Elliot’s?”
    “They think the idea of helping her enter the contest is a noble one,” Mart said. “But they don’t find solace in the sound of the wild-goose wings flapping in your head. Or the glint of buried treasure in your eyes.”
    “Oh, stop,” Trixie insisted. “Can we go or not?”
    “Yes. With conditions.”
    “What conditions?” Trixie asked.
    “I’m to clip the wings of the wild geese if necessary,” Mart said.
    “You’re always trying to do that anyway,” Trixie retorted.
    “Albeit in a brotherly way.” Mart grinned. “This time I have a parental mandate behind me.”
    “Just keep it back there, out of my way,” Trixie warned.
    “There’s more,” Mart said.
    Trixie eyed him suspiciously. “Such as?”
    “Bobby is to go with us.”
    Trixie accepted the news calmly, knowing she had no choice. “Okay. He’s probably tired of being read to and playing games.” She brightened. “Besides, he can keep Mrs. Elliot company while we—”
    “Clip-clip!Clip-clip!” Mart made scissors motions with two fingers.

    As they walked up the hill to the Wheelers’, Bobby scampered ahead and tried to turn uphill somersaults.
    “Easy,” Trixie cautioned. “If you get too dirty or hurt yourself, you’ll have to go home.” She spoke to Mart, who carried his father’s Leica camera on its strap around his neck. “This picture will be important, so make it good. It just has to win a prize. Try for sharp detail and good balance.”
    Mart scowled at her. “Elementary, my dear sister. But why the exhortation? You’ve already admitted