The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

umbrella, hanging from the beam of the arbor facing the sun. From each umbrella rib, stout twine hung to the ground for the sweet peas to climb on.
    “What a neat ideal” Trixie exclaimed.
    “It does create a pleasing effect, doesn’t it?” Mrs. Elliot said. She smiled and explained sheepishly, “I needed something for them to climb on. I didn’t have any chicken wire and couldn’t afford to buy any. I found this old umbrella frame that I’d never gotten around to having re-covered. It just goes to show what you can get by with if you really put your mind to it.”
    “I think it’s beautiful,” Trixie said. Her eyes danced from color to color: lavender, pink, blue, red, white, and yellow. “So many colors! And the stems are so big—not like my scrawny plants at all.”
    “That comes from good feeding and watering,” said Mrs. Elliot. She began snipping and collecting a bouquet.
    “Oh, don’t cut too many,” Trixie protested.
    Mrs. Elliot shook her head. “If the blossoms aren’t taken off, the vines will go to seed instead of creating more blooms.”
    Trixie frowned at the size of the bouquet. “You shouldn’t give so many away.”
    “Why not? Flowers are for sharing with others. And,” Mrs. Elliot sighed, “they don’t sell the way they used to.”
    “But they should,” Trixie said. “They’re so beautiful.”
    Mrs. Elliot handed Trixie a lovely bouquet. “It’s warm today, so I’ll wrap these cut ends in some damp moss to keep the flowers fresh.”
    Riding back to Manor House, Trixie raised the bouquet to smell the sweet scent.
    Honey was watching her. “You’re sniffing more than flowers,” she said.
    Trixie nodded absently. “There’s a lot about this afternoon I just can’t believe.”
    “You mean you can’t believe that school is out?” Honey asked.
    Trixie gave her a scowl.
    Honey nodded. “I know. It’s Mrs. Elliot. I can’t believe it either, that someone would want to destroy her property.”
    Trixie urged Susie ahead to pace alongside Jim on Jupe. “When you go down to the police station to let Sergeant Molinson take your fingerprints, I’d like to go with you.”
    Jim grinned. “I’ll enjoy your company, but he won’t.”
    Mart overheard. “Now what are you concocting, sister?”
    “Some way to help Mrs. Elliot. And,” Trixie added quickly to forestall any more questions, “among other things, when her com is ready, I think we should buy some and have a com roast.”
    The B.W.G.’s all agreed.

    When they arrived at Manor House, Regan eyed the horses. “Good,” he commented. “They’re not overheated or winded. Give them a rubdown, then water and feed them. How was Mrs. Elliot?”
    Regan’s big hands clenched when he heard about the arson attempt.
    Dan, back from town, stood to one side, listening quietly and frowning. “Would you recognize the man if you saw him again?” he asked.
    The B.W.G.’s explained that they’d only seen the man from a distance.
    “But we did find some other clues,” Trixie said.
    Dan’s frown deepened. “I think you should leave this to Sergeant Molinson.”
    “Why?” Trixie asked.
    Dan shrugged. “I just think that you should. Arson is serious business. Dangerous.”
    “Dan’s right,” Regan agreed. “Any guy who’d want to set fire to a struggling widow’s property has got to be really sick. It’s a good thing that he didn’t get a better look at you kids. So keep out of it. Don’t play with fire!”
    The B.W.G.’s were silent as they groomed the horses and cleaned the tack. When Brian and Mart were ready to leave for home, Trixie lingered behind.
    “Tell Moms I’m going to ride into Sleepyside with Jim,” she said.
    “My earlier testimony has been corroborated,” Mart commented. “She’ll get around to her chores sooner or later—emphasis on later.” Trixie thrust the bouquet at him. “Stick your nose in this. Maybe it’ll sweeten your thoughts. Give it to Moms.”
    “Peace offering?” Mart asked mockingly. Trixie sneered. “Jim will drop me off at home as soon as he’s through at the police station.”

    On the two-mile drive into town, Jim was thoughtful. While waiting for a stoplight to change, he turned to Trixie. “What Regan said really kind of scares me,” he admitted. “If that guy recognized any of us and found out where we live....”
    Trixie shuddered. “Gleeps! He might try starting another fire. That’s all the more reason for us to do anything we can to see that