The secret of the Mansion

him! He’s the missing heir to the Frayne fortune. You must save him!"
    "I think you’re mistaken," Trixie heard the chief say quietly. "Mr. Frayne lived all alone, and he died recently. I assure you, my men have already made certain there is nobody in the house."
    "Fool, fool," Jonesy howled, and Trixie knew that he was in one of the insane rages Jim had described. "I was here earlier this evening and saw unmistakable signs that young Jim Frayne has been living here. He’s being burned alive, I tell you. Put out the fire! Put out the fire!"
    Maybe he does really care about Jim, Trixie thought as she started forward to tell the fire chief that Jim was safe, so that he would not send any of his men into the flaming house. At that moment the roof burst into flames, and the whole house collapsed in a blazing shower of sparks and burning chunks of wood.
    Instantly, Jonesy’s rage increased. He danced up and down in fury, shaking his fists and screaming like a maniac. "You idiots. You lazy idiots! Half a million dollars was hidden in that house, and you’ve let it burn to the ground. A fortune wasted, you fools. Do you hear me? A fortune!"
    It’s the money he was worried about, not Jim, Trixie thought angrily. I’m glad he thinks Jim was burned alive. Now he wont be likely to bother him anymore.
    The firemen, paying no attention to Jonesy’s hysterical accusations, kept right on working to keep the fire from spreading to the woods. When the last ember was extinguished, even Jonesy was forced to face the fact that there was nothing left worth salvaging. Whatever had been hidden in the Mansion had been destroyed by the all-consuming flames.
    Screaming insults, the stoop-shouldered man turned away from the ruins and tottered down the driveway.
    "Who was that?" a reporter asked the fire chief. "Sounded like a lunatic to me."
    The chief laughed grimly. "They ought to keep people like that under lock and key. First he was yowling that his stepson was being binned alive and then he changed his tune. Said there was half a million dollars hidden in the place." He shrugged tiredly. "Never did believe that yam about old man Frayne baying a fortune hidden in this old house, did you?"
    "Well, I don’t know about that," the reporter said warily. "It has happened before, you know. Rich old recluses living in poverty. What was that about a stepson?"
    "You know as much about it as I do," the chief said in exasperation. "Your hysterical friend said young Jim Frayne, the missing heir, was being burned alive. That’s all I know, and, what’s more, I don’t believe a word of it." But the reporter was already hurrying down the hill after Jonesy and the villagers.
    "Golly," Trixie gasped. "It’ll be in all the papers tomorrow that Jim died in the fire. I hope that means Jonesy won’t bother him anymore. He’s taken enough beatings."
    She stopped short as she felt a strong hand on her shoulder and wheeled around, expecting to face Jim’s stepfather.
    It was Regan. "Don’t you think you two have had enough excitement?" he demanded, grinning. "If Miss Trask ever finds out you were hanging around this place at this time of night—" He let out a long whistle. "I’m taking you girls home now," he finished firmly. "And see that you stay there the rest of the morning."
    Meekly, the girls let him escort them to the Belden terrace where Reddy, who had scampered away when the roof of the burning house crashed to the ground, was impatiently waiting for them. The dog gave them a noisy welcome.
    "What happened to that redheaded kid?" Regan asked as Trixie opened the door.
    "He’s all right," Honey said quickly. "But, please, Regan, don’t let anybody know what you know about him. That horrible, old stoop-shouldered man is his stepfather."
    "Figured something like that," Regan said as he saw them safely into the house. "And don’t you worry about me. I mind my own business, and I don’t tell anybody anything that doesn’t concern them." He strode away in the waning moonlight, humming softly to himself.
     

The Missing Heir • 20
     
    SUNLIGHT WAS streaming into the room when Trixie awoke the next morning, and she realized that she and Honey must have slept very late. Rolling on her elbow, she reached across to the other twin bed and poked Honey. "Wake up, sleepyhead!"
    "I am awake," Honey said, keeping her eyes tightly shut. "I’ve been trying to figure out for the past half hour whether it was all a nightmare or not."
    "It was