The Mystery of the Millionaire

scatterbrained. We couldn’t have solved as many cases as we have if that were true.”
    Trixie’s blue eyes sparkled as she thought about what Honey had just said. Beginning with the time when she and Honey had located Jim Frayne’s hidden inheritance and then tracked him down to tell him about it, the two girls had been involved in one fascinating mystery after another. Among other things, they had located emeralds and stolen diamonds, discovered a ring of counterfeiters, and returned a precious Ming vase to the Sleepyside art museum.
    Along the way, they’d made new friends while they were solving mysteries. Jim Frayne had been the first—and, in Trixie’s mind, the most important. Then they’d solved the mystery of Di Lynch’s Uncle Monty, and black-haired Di had become a member of their circle. After that, the girls had discovered the truth about Dan Mangan, and he, too, had been added to their group.
    Trixie and her two older brothers, along with Honey and Jim and Di and Dan, made up a club called the Bob-Whites of the Glen. The members were devoted to having fun and helping others with special projects. All of the members got involved, too, in solving the mysteries that Trixie and Honey uncovered.
    Remembering that fact, Trixie sighed. “You say I can’t really be scatterbrained because we’ve solved so many mysteries. But Mart would say that we only get into the mysteries because I am scatterbrained. Then the logical minds—
    Mart’s and Brian’s and Jim’s—take over to solve them.”
    “That isn’t what Mart would say at all,” Honey told her. “Mart would say, ‘Propensity for misadventure is characteristic of the distaff portion of the Bob-Whites, whereas the perspicuity necessary for the ultimate resolution is a commodity inherent in the male membership.’ ”
    Trixie’s jaw dropped as she listened to Honey’s perfect imitation of Mart’s long-winded way of saying things.
    Honey laughed at Trixie’s astonishment. “I’ve been practicing,” she admitted. “I get tired of having to have Brian or Jim interpret everything Mart says.
    “Anyway, even if Mart did say what I just said he’d say, you know he’d just be teasing. Mart’s sensitive about being only eleven months older than you are—and about looking enough like you to be your almost-twin. That’s why he puts on such superior airs. He really loves the mysteries as much as we do, but he’s not half as good at solving them.”
    The girls had arrived at Mr. Lytell’s store, but Trixie didn’t dismount immediately. Honey’s words had reminded her of something she’d been meaning to tell her friend. “Maybe Mart has got frustrated with trying to solve mysteries, so now he’s decided to be one. That would explain the strange way he’s been acting lately.”
    “What do you mean, Trixie?” Honey asked. Then she giggled. “Maybe I should ask, ‘How can you tell?’ Mart’s always a little hard to understand.”
    Trixie shook her head. “Not like this,” she said. “He walks around with a smug little smile on his face all the time. Well, not all the time. In fact, he spends most of his time locked up in his room. When someone knocks, there’s the sound of papers shuffling and then a long pause before he says, ‘Come in.’ He’s been watching the mail like a hawk, too.”
    “That is strange,” Honey said. “Could it be a girl, do you suppose?”
    “That’s what I thought at first. That would explain the funny smile. And he could be shut up in his room writing long, mushy letters and checking the mail for answers. But Di is his favorite girl. You know that. And he doesn’t act any differently around her these days.”
    “It must not be a girl, then,” Honey decided. “I mean, it must not be a girl who’s making him act funny. Because if Di were the girl, he’d act funny around her. And if Di weren't the girl, he’d still act funny around her. I mean, if Di weren’t the girl, he’d act differently from the way he did when she was the girl. What I mean is—”
    “I know what you mean,” Trixie said, laughing, “although I’m probably the only person in the whole wide world who would know what you mean. I think you’d better have a nice, cold can of pop to cool off your fevered brain. Come on!” She swung down from the saddle, tied Lady’s reins to a low-hanging tree branch, and walked toward the entrance of the store. Honey, laughing at her own garbled attempt at an explanation,