The Indian Burial Ground Mystery

as if someone is visiting.”
    Trixie and Honey glanced at the unfamiliar station wagon parked in the
circular driveway, and then bounded across the veranda into the spacious front
hall. There were voices coming from the living room.
    “Come on in, girls,” came the booming voice of Mr. Wheeler. “I’d like
you to meet someone.”
    Trixie and Honey slowed down to a sedate walk, and entered the huge,
luxurious living room. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler were seated on the sofa facing a
stocky, balding man wearing a tweed jacket. A friendly smile creased his face
when he saw the girls.
    “Victor,” Mr. Wheeler said proudly, “this is my daughter Honey and her
best friend Trixie Belden. Honey and Trixie, meet Professor Conroy.”
    “How do you do?” Honey murmured, nodding politely.
    “And I want you also to meet my assistant, Charles Miller,” Professor Conroy
said. His voice was high-pitched and his accent British. He gestured toward the
French windows.
    Trixie and Honey turned to see a tall, gangly young man who looked about
twenty years old standing stiffly at the side of the room. Although
nice-looking, with even features and shaggy, brown hair, the young man didn’t
smile. Nodding glumly at the girls, he immediately turned his attention back to
the painting hanging on the wall.
    “Is that a Renoir?” he asked pointedly.
    “It certainly is,” answered Mr. Wheeler. “It’s small, but I like it,
don’t you?”
    “Lovely,” Charles murmured. One corner of his mouth lifted as if he were
about to smile, but when he caught Trixie looking at him, he quickly turned
back to the gemlike work of art.
    “Pleased to meet you,” Trixie said sarcastically, after throwing a sharp
glance at Honey. But Honey didn’t seem to be paying attention. Trixie turned to
the adults seated in the center of the room.
    “Professor Conroy is an archaeologist who will be spending the summer
here on the game preserve,” Mrs. Wheeler was saying. “He’s bringing a group of
first-year graduate students for a real archaeological dig.” Trixie’s eyes lit
up.
    “Really?” gasped Honey. “That’s fantastic!”
    “I think so, too,” replied Professor Conroy. “Your parents have kindly
consented to allow me to search for artifacts left by the Algonquin and
Iroquois tribes.”
    “Here?” Trixie interrupted. “I didn’t know there were Indians here.”
    “There were Indians all over this area,” Professor Conroy said. “But I’m
sure you already learned that in school.”
    Trixie blushed furiously as she remembered that she had, indeed, studied
the Indians who had lived in the Hudson Valley . But somehow the
notion that all Indians lived only in the wild West had persisted. She glanced
behind her at Charles Miller, hoping he hadn’t noticed her foolish remark. But
he wasn’t even listening to the conversation. Prowling restlessly around the
beautifully decorated room, he appeared to be examining everything with great
care.
    “As a matter of fact,” Professor Conroy continued, “I have reason to
believe that there is an important Algonquin burial ground right here on the
estate. Thanks to the Wheelers, my students and I will be able to study the
tribal movements of the east coast Indians on this dig.”
    “How can you study tribal movements from a burial ground?” Trixie asked,
puzzled. “I mean, all the Indians are dead.”
    Professor Conroy burst out laughing, and Trixie blushed. Oh, woe. How
could I have asked such a silly question? she thought in anguish. But
before she could get even more embarrassed, Professor Conroy explained.
    “That’s a good question, young lady,” he said. “You see, each tribe had
specific ways of decorating its belongings. For example, clothing, pottery,
knife blades, beadwork, basketry, and pipe heads had special designs etched or
worked in as decoration, or to give the things religious significance. When a
member of the tribe died, his belongings were usually buried with him.”
    “This is the part I don’t understand,” Mrs. Wheeler put in. “What do
decorations tell about movements?”
    “Elementary, my dear Mrs. Wheeler. The tribes moved around from season
to season, and they followed herds of animals, as well. As they traveled, they
met other tribes. They traded goods or gave gifts. I can tell the difference
between a Virginia Iroquois tribe’s pipe head and an Ohio Valley pipe head.”
    “That means,” Trixie burst out, unable to control herself any longer,
“it’s