The Mystery of the Millionaire

appetite, Trixie thought.
    “Honey and I found a wallet on Glen Road today,” Trixie said as she loaded her plate and helped Bobby with his. “It belongs to an Anthony Ramsey of New York City, and it has a hundred-dollar bill in it.”
    Brian let out a long, low whistle, but Mart only looked up momentarily and said contemptuously, “Peanuts!”
    Trixie’s temper flared. “A hundred dollars is most certainly not peanuts, Mart Belden.”
    “No, it isn’t,” Helen Belden said quickly, before an out-and-out argument could erupt. “I hope you were able to return the money to Mr. Ramsey.”
    “We haven’t yet,” Trixie told her mother. “There was a card in his wallet that gave a New York City address. Mr. Lytell called from his store, but nobody answered. We left the wallet with Mr. Lytell, and he’s going to try again later today.”
    Mrs. Belden nodded approvingly, the boys went back to their lunch, and Trixie retreated to her own thoughts, which included wondering about Mart’s odd behavior and speculating whether she’d ever find out as much as she wanted to know about Mr. Ramsey and how he had lost his wallet on Glen Road.
    “Moms,” she said suddenly, “do you think Mr. Ramsey will offer a reward for his wallet?”
    “I have no idea, Trixie,” Mrs. Belden said. “I don’t think I’d count on it, if I were you. If you need some extra money, Trixie,” she added gently upon seeing her daughter’s disappointment, “there are always extra chores I’d be happy to pay you to do.”
    “Oh, I wasn’t going to collect it, Moms,” Trixie said quickly. “I was thinking about Mr. Lytell—his store is always so empty. Maybe that’s why he’s always so crabby. A reward might mean a lot to him.”
    Mrs. Belden smiled. “Don’t worry too much about that, either,” she said. “Mr. Lytell’s store was here long before the big supermarkets opened in Sleepyside. And his store always seemed just as empty then as it does now. Although I don’t believe the rumors that Mr. Lytell might be one of the wealthiest people in Sleepyside, I imagine that he has money put aside for the proverbial rainy day.”
    Trixie stared wide-eyed at her mother for a moment. Then she lowered her eyes to her plate, picked up her sandwich, and took another bite. Mr. Lytell as a wealthy man—that was really something to think about, even if it was only a rumor!
    She was just finishing up her lunch when the phone rang. She ran to answer it; it was Honey calling.
    “Trix?” Honey said. “We’re supposed to be at Mr. Lytell’s store this afternoon at four o’clock. Can you be there?”
    “Sure,” Trixie said, “but why? Did he tell you why he wanted us to be there?”
    “He didn’t tell me anything,” Honey said. “I was taking a shower when he called. Jim took the message.”
    “It must be about the wallet,” Trixie guessed. “Maybe he talked to Mr. Ramsey. But why do we have to wait until four to find out?”
    “I don’t know,” Honey told her.
    “Can’t you call Mr. Lytell back and find out? Four o’clock is three hours away. I don’t think I can wait that long.”
    “You’ll have to, Trix. You know how touchy Mr. Lytell is. If that’s all the message he wanted to give, I’m not going to risk irritating him by calling back and asking for more.”
    “All right. I’ll come to your house first. We can ride our bikes over. See you then.” Trixie hung up the phone and walked back to the kitchen.
    Her brothers had finished lunch and disappeared, as they usually did when there was kitchen cleanup to be faced if they stuck around.
    Trixie began, absentmindedly, to clean up the kitchen.
    “Was that Honey?” Mrs. Belden asked, jolting her daughter out of her dream world.
    “Yes. Mr. Lytell wants us to meet him at his store at four o’clock. It must have something to do with the wallet, but I don’t know what,” Trixie said.
    “You’ll find out soon enough,” Mrs. Belden said.
    “Not soon enough for me,” Trixie said. “Can I do my chores now, in case I’m late getting back from Mr. Lytell’s?”
    Instead of answering, Mrs. Belden craned her neck to look out the window above the kitchen sink.
    “What are you doing?” Trixie asked.
    “Well, less than an hour ago, Mart said he wasn’t hungry. Now you’re asking permission to do your chores early. I just thought I’d check and see if the sky was falling,” Mrs. Belden said with a smile.
    Trixie giggled. “I guess it would be more like