The Mystery of the Emeralds

and all he can think about is horses.”
    “Well, I hope you’re right,” Trixie said dubiously, and then, realizing that it was getting late, she asked Miss Sunderland if it would be convenient for her to get the diaries before they left.
    “What diaries?” the old lady asked, her misty blue eyes wide.
    Trixie’s heart sank as she gently reminded Miss Sunderland of her father’s diaries and of Rosewood Hall.
    “Oh, of course, of course. I got to thinking about something else there for a minute. I’U get them. They’re right in his desk, where he always kept them.” She pushed herself out of the chair and walked slowly toward the house.
    While she was gone, Trixie and Honey compared notes on their impressions of Neil, and both admitted to some mental reservations about him. Trixie had the feeling that he was putting on an act, and she wondered why.
    “Let’s suggest to Miss Sunderland that this business of the letter be a secret among the three of us,” Trixie said. “Do you think she’ll agree?”
    “Yes, but, after all, she’s ninety! All we can do is hope. Her mind is really very fuzzy, isn’t it?” Honey replied slowly.
    “I guess you’d be fuzzy, too, if you’d lived that long,” Trixie said. “Shh! Here she comes, and, thank goodness, she has the diaries!”
    “Now, my dears, you just take these along with you. I’ve heard of your family, Trixie. I guess there have been Beldens in Sleepyside for about as long as our family has been here in Croton. When you’ve finished with them, you can bring them back, and we’ll have another nice visit.” She handed the little leather journals to Trixie. They were tied together with faded red tape, the kind Trixie had seen on old legal documents her father had occasionally brought home from the bank. He had told her this was why people said any involved business was “all tied up in red tape.”
    “We’ll take good care of them,” Trixie assured her as she and Honey made their farewells. “We’re going to keep the diaries and the letter a secret, Miss Sunderland, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. You won’t tell anyone, either, will you?” Trixie urged.
    “Oh, no, it will be our little secret, won’t it?” the old lady said, clasping her thin hands together gleefully. “I always loved having a secret!”
    Trixie and Honey waved good-bye as they pedaled out of the gate and down the road, the diaries carefully packed in Trixie’s bicycle basket. As soon as they had crossed the dam, they found that what the garage man had told them was certainly true. They flew down the hill, through the upper village, and onto the main road toward Sleepyside in no time at all. It was only when their speed slackened that they had time to talk about the happenings of the afternoon.
    “What do you make of it all? Do you think she will be able to keep the letter a secret?” Honey asked.
    “Jeepers, I don’t know. She’s so forgetful, she may not even think about it once were out of sight,” Trixie answered. “On the other hand, who knows how her mind will work?”
    “I can’t wait to get at the diaries,” Honey said. “When do you think we can start reading them?”
    “We were going to the library tonight, remember?” Trixie asked. “But now I think these are more important. Why don’t you spend the night with me, and we can work on them after dinner?”
    “Wonderful! I’m starved, and your mother always has such yummy food,” Honey replied. “I’m sure Miss Trask will let me stay.”
    Miss Trask, who had been one of Honey’s teachers when she was in private school, had come to stay at the Manor House, first as governess and then, when Honey had entered public school, as manager of the household during Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler’s frequent absences. All the Bob-Whites adored her, and she was always ready to help them with any of their plans when they needed her.
    The girls stopped off at Crabapple Farm to ask Mrs. Belden if it was all right for Honey to eat dinner there and spend the night.
    “I’d be delighted to have you, Honey,” Trixie’s mother said to her. “You know you’re always welcome,” she added with a smile, “especially tonight. Mart and Brian just told me Chuck Altemus wants them to come to his house. They’re planning an overnight camping trip, so that leaves me with several extra pieces of fried chicken.”
    “That’s what smells so good!” Honey exclaimed. “I’ll hurry up to the house, get into