The Mystery of the Antique Doll

happened to be part of a counterfeiting scam. They were in there printing up nice new phony twenties. See?”
    He held a bundle of the offending articles up for Mrs. De Keyser to see. She gasped, and promptly dropped the crowbar. It landed with a resounding clang, and the noise made everyone jump.
    “Heavenly days!” she said. “That means I’m an accomplice! After all, it was happening on my property, wasn’t it?”
    “Don’t worry, ma’am,” Sergeant Molinson said kindly. “You are in no way implicated. Now we have some work to do, if you’ll excuse us.”
    “If you don’t mind, Sergeant,” the Inspector said, “I believe I should accompany you while you do the paper work. This group is wanted internationally as well. They might be inclined to name some of their accomplices on the other side of the Atlantic.”
    “Right,” Sergeant Molinson said. “And you kids better get on home. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
    “Don’t you need us to testify or make a deposition?” Trixie asked hopefully. “I mean, we’re all witnesses. And we were the ones who figured it out in the first place.”
    “That’s right, officer,” Honey said cheerfully. “We found the printing plates inside the doll’s dress—you know, the doll we picked up for Mr. Reid in Paris—and that’s when Trixie decided to stake out the store and catch Mr. Reid in the act of committing the crime.”
    “I see,” Sergeant Molinson said. “Well, Inspector Patou here can fill me in on everything. If we need you, we’ll call you. Now you should be getting on home, kids. It’s late.”
    “He’s right, Trixie,” Brian said calmly. “Our time’s about up. That movie let out a little while ago, and we still have to walk back home.”
    “Couldn’t we say we stopped for hamburgers?” Mart asked hopefully.
    “We could say anything we wanted,” Di said, giggling. “But that wouldn’t get us to Wimpy’s.”
    “She’s right, Mart,” Dan said. “No wheels, no Wimpy’s.”
    “Are you hungry, you poor things?” Mrs. De Keyser said. “After what you’ve accomplished this evening, you certainly deserve a snack.”
    “But Mrs. De Keyser—” Trixie said.
    “No buts about it, young lady,” the older woman interrupted. “I want you all to come over right this minute. I’ll fix you some nice hot chocolate. And it just so happens that a neighbor brought me a dozen blueberry buns this afternoon. That’s more than I can eat myself.”
    “Here, here!” Mart said happily. “And pay no attention to my sister, ma’am. She doesn’t have the same needs that I have!”
    The Bob-Whites watched solemnly as Carl Reid and his accomplices were handed into the police cars. Inspector Patou got in with Sergeant Molinson, and the little cavalcade wound onto Glen Road and headed for town.
    Mrs. De Keyser led the Bob-Whites into her big kitchen to a chorus of hysterical barking from Willy. She listened to the whole story as she bustled around like a mother hen. With Honey and Trixie’s help, she prepared hot chocolate and heated up blueberry buns in her oven.
    The long story they told was punctuated with her little gasps of dismay and expressions of surprise.
    Feeling a good deal warmer, and with pleasantly full stomachs, the weary Bob-Whites set out for their respective houses.
    Mart, Brian, and Trixie said good-night to Dan and Di at the foot of the driveway to the Lynch estate. Dan was going to walk Di home before continuing on to the cabin he shared with Mr. Maypenny. Then Honey and Jim went up the driveway to the Manor House.
    “Well, Trixie,” said Mart as they trudged up the driveway to Crabapple Farm. “You and your sleuthing almost got us polished off this time. Think perhaps you’d consider retiring early?”
    “Not a chance, Mart, ol’ buddy,” Trixie chortled. “If it hadn’t been for me, you never would have gotten an opportunity to sample those blueberry buns. Stick with me, kid, and I’ll show you all the good things in life!”
    “If I live long enough,” came his snappy reply.
    The three contented Bob-Whites let themselves into the house as quietly as possible. But, to their surprise, Helen Belden and her husband were sitting up in the living room, watching the dancing flames in the fireplace.
    “How was the movie?” Mrs. Belden asked sleepily.
    “Very exciting,” Trixie answered. “Actually, I can’t tell you how exciting it was!”
    “How lovely, dear,” her mother replied fondly. “I’m so