The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

suction pipe had been patched, and the new pump was hooked up. Max and Dan wiped their hands on paper napkins and paused for refreshing gulps of lemonade.
    “Will it work?” Trixie asked, nodding toward the pump.
    “Only one way to find out,” Dan said. He set down his empty glass and kneeled to unscrew the priming plug. Max inserted a funnel and poured in a pail of water, priming the pump.
    When the plug was tightened back into place, Max flipped the switch while Dan opened a nearby faucet. The motor hummed, and after a moment there was a brief spurt of water from the faucet. Then there were sputtering sounds as air came out of the tap, and a few more spurts of water. Finally there came a steady, gushing stream.
    Everyone cheered, then headed for the picnic table for more refreshments.
    Mrs. Elliot returned from the cottage beaming with pleasure. “That was Manton’s, the flower shop, on the phone. Mr. Manton wanted to know if I could sell him a large quantity of red and white carnations. And I’ve got dozens of them that will be just right by next Tuesday.”
    “That’s wonderful!” Honey said. The others agreed.
    As more lemonade and cookies were consumed, Trixie pondered what Mrs. Elliot had told her. All of Mrs. Elliot’s bad luck seemed to have started after Max came back from the city. But there was nothing to link Max to any of the troubles... and no real reason to suspect him.
    “At least your Social Security check wasn’t stolen,” Trixie muttered.
    “What, dear?” Mrs. Elliot inquired, overhearing. “Oh, yes. It is a good thing that I had them start sending the checks directly to the bank.”
    “How long ago did you start?” Trixie asked.
    “My last check was the first one to be delivered that way,” Mrs. Elliot said with a self-satisfied chuckle.
    “Oh!” Trixie gasped. Maybe she was onto something. “What made you decide to do it?”
    “Max suggested it,” Mrs. Elliot said proudly.
    Trixie almost dropped her glass of lemonade. She realized that Max was glowering at her. He had overheard the conversation, and he had to realize that Trixie suspected him of something. Trixie glanced nervously at Dan, who raised his eyebrows questioningly.
    “Thanks a lot,” Max said curtly. “For your
    help, I mean. I’ve got work to do now.” He stalked away.
    Trixie blushed and put her glass down. “Thanks very much for the refreshments, Mrs. Elliot,” she said. “I think it’s time we went home.”

Trixie Finds a Link • 7

    MART’S PHOTOGRAPHS of the sweet peas were all very good, and Trixie and Honey agonized over the selection of one print to enter in the photo contest. They planned to submit the entry in person, since Miss Trask was driving them to White Plains to pick up Brian and Jim. The bus bringing the young men home from camp would arrive in White Plains in the early afternoon.
    “This’ll be a lot faster than mailing in the entry,” Trixie said optimistically, climbing into the B.W.G. station wagon with Honey and Mart. “Maybe it’ll get into this week’s contest. The sooner the better for Mrs. Elliot.”
    Miss Trask slid in behind the steering wheel. “I don’t like to dampen your enthusiasm, Trixie,” she said, “but there must be hundreds of entries. I hope you haven’t led Mrs. Elliot to believe she can definitely count on some prize money.”
    “Mrs. Elliot is more sagacious about it than Trixie,” Mart commented. To Trixie he said, “That means she’s got more s-e-n-s-e.”
    “She could use a whole lot of the other kind of cents,” Trixie retorted. “Besides, don’t you think your photograph is good enough to win the contest?”
    “Owl” Mart winced.
    “Touché,” said Miss Trask with a grin.
    After delivering the photograph and entry blank to the White Plains newspaper office, Miss Trask and the three Bob-Whites drove to a nearby shopping center, where the camp bus would be unloading in the parking lot.
    “We have nearly an hour until the bus is due,” Miss Trask said, glancing at her wrist-watch. “Plenty of time to do a little shopping. Shall we stick together or split up?”
    “I’m not in the mood for earrings and purses,” Mart said, wrinkling his nose. “I’m headed for the sporting goods store. See you in about an hour.”
    “Trixie?Honey?” Miss Trask inquired.
    “We’ll meet you here in an hour, too,” Trixie said, “if it’s all right with you.”
    “Fine,” Miss Trask said. She headed for a department store.
    Honey