The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

that in front of witnesses.”
    “And,” Trixie went on, “we’d like to take some pictures and enter them for you.”
    “Well, bless you,” Mrs. Elliot said. “Go right ahead. But the pictures should be entered in your names, since you’re taking them.”
    “But they’re your flowers,” Trixie said. “We think a picture of the way you grow your sweet peas would surely win.”
    “Take all the pictures you wish. And be sure to pick yourself a bouquet of sweet peas, too. Since I don’t know anything about taking pictures, I’ll stay out of your way. Want to help me prepare some lemonade and a plate of cookies, Bobby?”
    Bobby nodded. “Daddy won’t let me touch his camera, either.”
    “If there’s anything you need, let me know,” Mrs. Elliot told Mart. “I’ll tell Dan where to get it if Max hasn’t come back with the new water pump.”
    “What happened to the pump you had?” Trixie asked, pretending not to know.
    “It wasn’t drawing water. Neither Max nor I noticed until too late. Without water running through it, a pump gets hot.” Mrs. Elliot shook her head. “It froze up and caused the electric motor to bum itself out. I had to buy a whole new pump.”
    Mrs. Elliot turned and led Bobby into the cottage.
    Trixie sighed. “She’s got to have a pump to water all the flowers. She’d be out of business without it. What would make a pump go bad so suddenly?”
    “Stop spreading those wild-goose wings,”
    Mart cautioned. “Who said it went bad suddenly? Maybe she knew it needed repairs but just didn’t have the money for it Maybe she just kept hoping it would hold out, like some people do with cars and washing machines and—”
    “All right,” Trixie said impatiently. “Leave some feathers on my wings. Put your mind, such as it is, to taking some good pictures.” The sweet pea vines were a lovely mass of variegated color, climbing up and over the suspended umbrella frame.
    “Oh, look at them!” Trixie exclaimed softly. “They’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw them. Be sure to get the umbrella frame in the picture, Mart.”
    Trixie’s eyes drank in the colors: white, blue, pink, yellow, lavender, and red. Suddenly she looked worried. “Mart, the camera is loaded with color film, isn’t it?”
    Mart gaped at her. “I thought you wanted black-and-white.”
    “I did not!” Trixie screamed. Then she detected the beginning of his grin. “Ooooooh, you—you—”
    “I’m the camera expert, remember? You said it yourself,” Mart reminded her.
    “You should have taken a picture of the expression on Trixie’s face,” Honey said with a giggle.
    “The aperture would have atrophied,” Mart declared.
    “I’ll aprofy your atrochure!” Trixie warned.
    “Stand back, please,” Mart cautioned. “Expert at work.” He peered through the viewfinder.
    “The vines hide the umbrella frame too much,” he said. “Dan, will you find a ladder or something and get up there and clear the frame a bit?”
    Dan looked in the shed and found a ladder. Trixie steadied it for him as he climbed to clear some of the flowers and vines from the umbrella frame.
    “That’s good,” Mart said.
    As Mart began photographing, Dan nodded toward the shed. “As long as we’re here, I can help Max install the new pump if he gets back in time,” he said. “I’m going to go take a look at the old pump.”
    Trixie nodded, watching intently as Mart changed camera angles.
    A few minutes later, when Trixie glanced up, she saw Dan at the B.W.G. station wagon. He looked in the glove compartment, then moved to the rear and opened the tailgate. He opened the storage compartment and rummaged around.
    Trixie couldn’t see what was in his hand as he moved away from the wagon and disappeared behind the shed.
    “Dan’s up to something,” she whispered to Honey, not wanting Mart to overhear. “I’m going to go see what. When Mart’s done taking pictures, you cut the bouquet Mrs. Elliot said we could have.”
    “I’ll go with you,” Honey murmured.
    “No,” Trixie said softly. “Mart will suspect we’re up to something then.”
    “All right,” Honey agreed reluctantly. “But let me know what’s happening.”
    “Of course, partner.” Then Trixie raised her voice. “It’s hot out here. I’ll go see if Mrs. Elliot and Bobby have the lemonade ready.”
    “Good idea,” Mart declared, lining up another shot.
    Trixie started toward the house, then cut through the garden toward