The Indian Burial Ground Mystery

Conroy couldn’t be the
burglar. He’s in the hospital with a concussion. He can’t even get out of bed.”
    “Actually,” Honey said quickly, “I don’t think Professor Conroy is a close
friend of my parents.”
    Honey looked a little embarrassed, then she continued. “I didn’t
remember hearing my father ever mention him, so I asked Miss Trask. She told me
that he came to my father with a letter of introduction from Professor Ingles
at Oxford University . My father has known
Professor Ingles for years, so it’s almost the same, I guess. He didn’t bother
to check directly because Professor Ingles was in the Sudan on a dig,
and my parents were on their way out of the country. But checking hardly seemed
necessary. Professor Conroy was so nice, and he did invite all of
us to join the dig.”
    “Whether he’s a real friend or not is beside the point,” Trixie
maintained stiffly. “He’s in the hospital. How can he rob houses if he can’t
get out of bed?”
    As soon as she said those words, Trixie gasped. A disturbing picture had
just popped into her mind.
    “The shoes!” she yelped. “How could I have missed such a big clue!”
    “What shoes?” Honey asked, perplexed. “You’re always talking in riddles,
Trixie.”
    “When I looked in on Professor Conroy this morning, I saw his shoes next
to the bed,” Trixie said. “They were caked with damp mud! That means he was
wearing them outside, and very recently—like last night.”
    “That’s right,” Charles agreed, frowning with concentration. “And that’s
the one part of this mystery that didn’t add up until now.”
    “What didn’t add up?” Trixie asked archly. “I thought my reasoning was
perfect.”
    Charles smiled. “It was. But since you wouldn’t believe anything I said,
I didn’t feel like telling you that, as far as I knew, Professor Conroy was
never unconscious. You told me that he said he banged his head at night, and
woke up later in the hospital. That indicates he was unconscious.
    “But when I spoke to him that morning he was fine,” Charles continued.
“He said he’d knocked his head, and that Harry was going to drive him to the
doctor’s office for his allergy medicine. But that was all. So when you told me
about the concussion, it didn’t add up.”
    “You’re right,” Honey said. “But why did Conroy make up that story and
get stuck in the hospital?”
    “I know why,” said Trixie. “He needed an airtight alibi. Maybe he was
afraid the police were closing in on him. If he is the burglar, we have to
prove it.”
    “But how?” asked Charles. “Yesterday’s airtight alibi is going to be
just as airtight today.” Trixie began pacing up and down. “Just give me a
minute,” she said. “I think I may have a plan, and it just might work. But we
have to get everybody in on it. That’s going to be the hard part.”
    “Maybe we should go back to the clubhouse and talk it over with the
boys,” Honey said helpfully. “They could help us work something out.”
    “We’ll go back to the clubhouse,” said Trixie, “but I don’t need any
help figuring out the plan. I just need help putting it into action.”
    “What’s the plan?” asked Charles.
    “Let’s go,” Trixie said, picking up her flashlight. “I’ll tell you on
the way.”
    “Now am I cleared of guilt?” Charles asked again as they
headed out of the woods.
    “Let me put it this way,” Trixie said with a laugh. “You’re no longer my
number-one suspect.”
    “That’s a relief,” Charles said. “You certainly know how to build a
wicked case against someone—even if he’s innocent!”
    “What a thing to say!” Trixie said, bristling. “I didn’t mean that the
way it sounds,” Charles said reassuringly. “But I can just imagine what kind of
case you’d build against a person who was guilty!”



13 * Trixie’s Scheme
     
    That evening after dinner, the
Bob-Whites met at their clubhouse. Brian had been leery of coming until he
heard that Charles Miller would be there, too. Trixie had asked Charles to come
and help her convince the others. He’d managed to get the night off.
    Trixie quickly explained her plan to the group.
    “What makes you think it’s going to work?” Brian asked. “It could take
days.”
    “Knowing Conroy and Kemp,” Charles said, “I think the plan has a good
chance of being successful. Besides, what have we got to lose?” Trixie was
pleased to see a look of amazement cross Brian’s face. He