The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

verge of tears herself.
    Miss Trask put her arm about Honey. “That’s enough! All of you. What’s this all about?”
    “Can’t you smell it?” Dan demanded. “They’ve been smoking marijuana!”
    Miss Trask remained calm and kept her arm around Honey. She looked squarely at Jim.
    “Well?” she asked.
    “It’s marijuana smoke you smell,” Jim confirmed. “But we weren’t smoking it. We were at Mrs. Elliot’s this morning—”
    “She and Max were gone,” Trixie interrupted, hoping Jim would not mention their little “midnight mistake.”
    “We wanted to check something out,’ Jim went on. He described the smoldering mound they had discovered in the middle of the cornfield. “The smell of the smoke got into our clothes,” he finished.
    Regan nodded. “Marijuana. So that’s what’s been going on at Mrs. Elliot’s place. Somehow I’m not surprised.”
    Dan shook his head. “I’m sorry. I should have realized I know you guys well enough to know you wouldn’t try anything so dumb. That smell just—”
    “It’s all right, Dan,” Honey sniffed.
    “I’m sure Mrs. Elliot doesn’t know about the marijuana,” Trixie said. “But we saw Max in that very same spot on the day of the arson attempt at Mrs. Elliot’s potting shed.”
    “That doesn’t surprise me, either,” Regan said. “Mrs. Elliot’s troubles didn’t seem to start until Max came back from the city. It all fits now.”
    “But Max—” Honey began.
    Miss Trask spoke up. “Sergeant Molinson will have to be notified about this, as much as we’d like to save Mrs. Elliot from more distress. You discovered evidence of criminal activity, and it’s your duty to report it.”
    “We know,” Trixie admitted reluctantly.
    “I’ll phone him,” Miss Trask said, tinning toward the house.
    While the others discussed the situation, Trixie motioned Dan aside. “I’m sure Al Finlay had something to do with this,” she told him. “But why would he bum the marijuana?”
    Dan shook his head. “I don’t know. The police will still be able to identify it, even though it was burned.”
    “We thought so,” Trixie said. “It’s still evidence against whoever’s responsible.”
    “Maybe,” Dan said thoughtfully, “Finlay did it to make more problems for Mrs. Elliot and Max. It’s almost certain now that Max will end up in jail. That’ll leave Mrs. Elliot without any help.”
    Trixie frowned. “I wish I could figure Max out. I’m sure he knows what’s going on, but he won’t say. Still, I’m not convinced that he has anything to do with it.”
    Sergeant Molinson’s car squealed into the driveway. He climbed out and eyed the young people coldly. “Miss Trask said you had something very important to tell me—something about Max Elliot.” He sniffed the air, and his frown deepened. “Did Max sell marijuana to you kids?” he growled.
    “No,” Jim said. “We’re not even sure that Max is involved.” He described once again the discovery in the cornfield. “We did see Max in approximately the same spot a couple weeks ago,” Jim said. “But he could have—”
    “It figures,” Molinson said, jotting notes in his pad. He looked up at the Bob-Whites. “I might as well tell you that Max already has a police record.”
    “Are you sure?” Trixie asked.
    Molinson turned red. “Young lady, I—” He paused and took a breath. “I’m sure because Max told me himself, after the arson attempt. When I took his fingerprints to compare them with those on the gasoline can, Max admitted that he had a record. He figured I’d find out anyway, with his fingerprints on file. Mrs. Elliot doesn’t know about it, and Max said he didn’t want her to find out. She’s sure going to find out now.”
    “Thanks to us,” Trixie moaned.
    “I’d have caught up with him sooner or later,” Molinson said. “You do realize that you’ll probably have to testify against him?”
    Trixie was crushed. “I couldn’t.”
    “Me, either,” Honey said.
    “If it goes to trial, you’ll have no choice,” Molinson said. He glanced sidelong at Trixie. It s part of the ‘job,’ Miss Detective,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get up to the Elliots’ to wait for Max to get back. I don’t know if I should say thank you or not.” He headed for his car. “If I were you, I’d get out of those smelly clothes,” he said over his shoulder as he got into the car.

    Trixie was miserable for the rest of that day and the