The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

us to follow.”
    Brian eyed the gas gauge. “We won’t be following anything if I don’t get some gas,” he said.
    “Drop me off at Mrs. Elliot’s on the way,”
    Trixie instructed her brother.
    “Hey!” Mart said. “You just said that Mr. Hartman was going to talk to Max.”
    “I want to talk to Mrs. Elliot,” Trixie explained, “about those yellow sweet peas. Moms didn’t think there was such a thing.”
    “Okay,” Brian said, pulling to the side of the road at Mrs. Elliot’s drive. “We’ll come back for you after I fill ’er up.”
    Trixie walked up the drive and knocked on Mrs. Elliot’s door. Mrs. Elliot answered, wearing an apron and holding a beautiful fresh corsage.
    “Why, hello, Trixie. Do come in,” she said cheerfully.
    She doesn’t know about the Social Security payments yet, Trixie thought with a twinge. “Hello,” she said as cheerily as she could. “Brian dropped me off. I wanted to ask you something.” She eyed the corsage in Mrs. Elliot’s hand. “Can I help?” she asked.
    “Well, if you wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Elliot said, “you could help me with some corsages for a reception this afternoon.”
    “Lead me to them,” Trixie said, glad to have an excuse for staying.
    “I thought I had plenty of time to get them finished without Max’s help. He’s working in the bam,” Mrs. Elliot said. “But then a man phoned and talked for quite a while. He wants to see me this afternoon.”
    “A man from the realty company?” Trixie inquired.
    “No, that man hasn’t called again, and I can’t find his firm fisted anywhere in the phone book.”
    Trixie wondered if Manton himself had posed as a realtor, disguising his voice. Perhaps he had had someone else pose as a realtor.
    Mrs. Elliot went on. “The man who called today is from a company that raises and sells flower seeds. He saw the photograph you entered for me in the newspaper contest. He tried to telephone me yesterday, when it was printed in the paper, but I was in White Plains.”
    Trixie nodded, remembering hearing the ringing telephone.
    “He wanted to know about the yellow sweet
    peas that appeared in the photograph. He said no seed company has ever been able to produce yellow sweet peas.” Mrs. Elliot looked bewildered. “I had to admit that I’d never heard of yellow sweet peas, either.”
    “They’re growing right here in your garden!” Trixie exclaimed. “That’s what I came to ask about.”
    “They’re right in plain sight,” Mrs. Elliot said with a chuckle, “but somehow I just didn’t notice them. The man from the seed company wanted to know if there was a mistake in the picture.”
    “That’s just exactly what Moms said!” Trixie recalled.
    “I told him there really are yellow flowers,” Mrs. Elliot continued. “He indicated that the vines could be worth a great deal of money to me.”
    “How wonderful!” Trixie said happily. “But please go slow, Mrs. Elliot. Don’t accept his offer too fast, and don’t let him dig up the vine or have you sign any papers until you’ve talked to a lawyer.”
    Trixie helped select blossoms from several bunches of flowers on a table. Mrs. Elliot snipped off the stems and added them to corsages. “Where did the yellow flowers come from?” Trixie asked.
    Mrs. Elliot shook her head. “Sam, my late husband, was a genius with plants. He was always experimenting and keeping notes. Early this spring, while cleaning out part of the bam, I found a jarful of seeds he had labeled ‘Sweet Peas, Special.’ I planted them with my other sweet pea seeds, thinking they were just a hardier variety of the usual colors.”
    “But now,” Trixie said, “we know what he meant by ‘Special.’ He must have kept records about their development. Did you find any records?”
    “I didn’t look for anything like that,” Mrs. Elliot replied. “They wouldn’t be of use to me— I don’t have Sam’s know-how about crossbreeding plants and such.”
    “Where did he keep the records?” Trixie asked.
    Mrs. Elliot raised her eyebrows. “I found the deed to the property and some fire and car insurance papers in his desk. When I had what was needed, I had his desk and the records about his plants moved out to the barn. Having them in here just reminded me too painfully of....”
    Trixie nodded understandingly. She tried to hold down her excitement. “Mrs. Elliot, if records can be found to verify the new variety, it would be even more valuable. We should go out