delivered the doll to this man?” asked Marcel Patou.
“That’s correct,” Trixie said firmly. She jabbed Honey in the ribs as she heard her sharp intake of breath. After all, she hadn’t exactly lied, had she? They did indeed deliver the doll to Carl Reid. Marcel Patou hadn’t asked them if they had somehow gotten it back, so she didn’t have to mention it.
Besides, Trixie had a plan—a plan that would work much better if the doll were in her possession, not the Inspector’s.
“And where is the antique shop?” he inquired.
“Right up this road, which is called Glen Road, by the way,” Trixie answered helpfully. She wanted Inspector Patou to go away—and soon. “The name of the shop is The Antique Barn. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding it.”
“Very well, young ladies,” he said. “I will investigate this matter. And if I need to speak with you again, I know where to find you...”
Letting his voice trail off in what Trixie decided was his “threatening” manner, Marcel Patou turned away abruptly and strode to his car. As he pulled open the door, he stumbled over a root and leaned heavily on the steering wheel. The horn blared loudly for a second or two before he managed to regain his balance and pull himself inside. He drove off, with a corner of his trench coat sticking out of the door and dragging along the road.
Trixie burst out laughing as he disappeared around the curve. Then she went over and picked up her bike.
“Why didn’t you tell him we have the doll?” Honey asked, getting her bike too.
“Because I have a plan,” Trixie answered. “I’ll tell you about it tonight at the clubhouse. I’ll ask the other Bob-Whites to come, too. Make it for 7:15, okay?”
“Okay.”
Trixie started pedaling for home. Honey followed behind her, wondering what on earth Trixie had in mind.
11* Trixie’s Plan
AFTER DINNER, the Bob-Whites met in the clubhouse.
“It’s absolutely freezing in here, Trixie,” Mart said, rubbing his hands together briskly. “Why do we have to meet here? It’s not as if we’re lacking for warm places to meet, you know.”
“You’ll understand in a little while,” Trixie told him. Turning to the rest of the group, she said, “I hope you all remembered to tell your parents we were going to the movie in town.”
“I did,” Di answered.
“Good,” Trixie said, as all the other Bob-Whites nodded in the affirmative. The entire group—Di, Honey, Jim, Brian, Mart, and Dan—were dressed as if they were on an Arctic expedition.
“I must admit,” Jim said with a smile, “I got some odd stares leaving the house in this outfit. Although I’m glad you told me to dress warmly, it looks pretty funny when you’ve just said that you’re planning a nice evening in a heated theater.”
“Sorry about that, folks,” Trixie said, “but it’s the only way. We’ll be spending a little time sitting around in the dark in the woods.”
“Okay, little sister,” said Brian. “Enough of this mystery. Just what are your plans for the evening?”
“Well,” Trixie said, pointing behind her. “In that paper bag is the doll. Honey and I washed her dress and ironed it. We put the plates back inside the dress exactly the way they were. Now I want to return the doll secretly to Mr. Reid.”
“And how do you plan to accomplish this feat?” Mart said loftily.
“Easy,” Trixie answered with confidence.
“We’ll sneak up to The Antique Barn, put the bag on the doorstep, bang on the door— and then run like anything!”
“Then what?” asked Dan Mangan. He had arrived at the clubhouse a bit early, and Trixie had filled him in on everything that had happened so far. Dan knew now exactly how deeply involved they were. “You know,” he said, “just giving the doll back doesn’t solve anything.”
“It may, and it may not,” Trixie said. But she realized Dan was right. Her plan would work only if Carl Reid did exactly what she wanted him to
“That’s correct,” Trixie said firmly. She jabbed Honey in the ribs as she heard her sharp intake of breath. After all, she hadn’t exactly lied, had she? They did indeed deliver the doll to Carl Reid. Marcel Patou hadn’t asked them if they had somehow gotten it back, so she didn’t have to mention it.
Besides, Trixie had a plan—a plan that would work much better if the doll were in her possession, not the Inspector’s.
“And where is the antique shop?” he inquired.
“Right up this road, which is called Glen Road, by the way,” Trixie answered helpfully. She wanted Inspector Patou to go away—and soon. “The name of the shop is The Antique Barn. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding it.”
“Very well, young ladies,” he said. “I will investigate this matter. And if I need to speak with you again, I know where to find you...”
Letting his voice trail off in what Trixie decided was his “threatening” manner, Marcel Patou turned away abruptly and strode to his car. As he pulled open the door, he stumbled over a root and leaned heavily on the steering wheel. The horn blared loudly for a second or two before he managed to regain his balance and pull himself inside. He drove off, with a corner of his trench coat sticking out of the door and dragging along the road.
Trixie burst out laughing as he disappeared around the curve. Then she went over and picked up her bike.
“Why didn’t you tell him we have the doll?” Honey asked, getting her bike too.
“Because I have a plan,” Trixie answered. “I’ll tell you about it tonight at the clubhouse. I’ll ask the other Bob-Whites to come, too. Make it for 7:15, okay?”
“Okay.”
Trixie started pedaling for home. Honey followed behind her, wondering what on earth Trixie had in mind.
11* Trixie’s Plan
AFTER DINNER, the Bob-Whites met in the clubhouse.
“It’s absolutely freezing in here, Trixie,” Mart said, rubbing his hands together briskly. “Why do we have to meet here? It’s not as if we’re lacking for warm places to meet, you know.”
“You’ll understand in a little while,” Trixie told him. Turning to the rest of the group, she said, “I hope you all remembered to tell your parents we were going to the movie in town.”
“I did,” Di answered.
“Good,” Trixie said, as all the other Bob-Whites nodded in the affirmative. The entire group—Di, Honey, Jim, Brian, Mart, and Dan—were dressed as if they were on an Arctic expedition.
“I must admit,” Jim said with a smile, “I got some odd stares leaving the house in this outfit. Although I’m glad you told me to dress warmly, it looks pretty funny when you’ve just said that you’re planning a nice evening in a heated theater.”
“Sorry about that, folks,” Trixie said, “but it’s the only way. We’ll be spending a little time sitting around in the dark in the woods.”
“Okay, little sister,” said Brian. “Enough of this mystery. Just what are your plans for the evening?”
“Well,” Trixie said, pointing behind her. “In that paper bag is the doll. Honey and I washed her dress and ironed it. We put the plates back inside the dress exactly the way they were. Now I want to return the doll secretly to Mr. Reid.”
“And how do you plan to accomplish this feat?” Mart said loftily.
“Easy,” Trixie answered with confidence.
“We’ll sneak up to The Antique Barn, put the bag on the doorstep, bang on the door— and then run like anything!”
“Then what?” asked Dan Mangan. He had arrived at the clubhouse a bit early, and Trixie had filled him in on everything that had happened so far. Dan knew now exactly how deeply involved they were. “You know,” he said, “just giving the doll back doesn’t solve anything.”
“It may, and it may not,” Trixie said. But she realized Dan was right. Her plan would work only if Carl Reid did exactly what she wanted him to
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