The Mysterious Code (21 page)

Hopelessly Trixie took the samurai swords from the wall. Slowly she went toward the back room. Snipe stood inside the door, his greedy hands stretched out. “Now come with us, sister,” he said. “We like your company.”

“Reach for the sky!” a sharp voice commanded from the alley door.

Spider stood there, his revolver covering Snipe and his accomplice.

“Drop your gun!” he ordered Snipe’s pal who held the sawed-off shotgun aimed at Trixie.

“Frisk ’em both!” Spider said to Jim and Brian.

Trixie, in the door, dropped the samurai swords and, with an exultant cry, picked up the dropped shotgun and thrust it in Jim’s hands. “Shoot ’em in the legs!” she shouted hysterically. “Then they’ll never get away!
Oh, Spider! Oh, Jim! Oh, Brian!” Her knees buckled and she dropped into a nearby chair.

Jim and Brian quickly tied the arms of the two men. Spider’s shrill whistle brought the patrolman on the run. He summoned the patrol car, and, when it came, the trussed thieves were loaded into it.

Where scarcely a soul had been on the street a few moments before, a crowd milled. Brian and Jim, and Trixie, too, who had recovered miraculously, restored the nearly stolen articles to their places in the showroom.

Then they watched while Spider nailed bars across the back door.

With a quick look around, the trio went out the front door, locked it behind them, and crossed the street to Brian’s jalopy.

“I never want to live through another half hour like that one,” Trixie said wearily. “Why
couldn’t
you see that I was trying to tell you something, Jim?”

“I’m just dumb, I guess, Trixie,” Jim said unhappily. “I thought you’d really flipped when you kept talking about the price of the aprons.”

“But I tried so hard to let you know. Snipe held that gun on me all the time.”

“Let’s not think of that,” Brian said, clutching the wheel of his jalopy tightly.

“I even tried to tell you about that page in
St. Nicholas
magazine,” Trixie went on.

“I know,” Jim said. “That’s what made me wonder when I went back upstairs. It sounded so crazy.”

“How
did
you finally find out?” Trixie asked. “Did you find the SOS?”

“
Did
he?” Brian shouted. “He pulled that bunch of price tags out of his pocket when he stuffed his gloves in there. He hit the ceiling!”

“Then we all hit the stairs!” Jim added. “I’d like to get my hands on that Snipe Thompson!”

“He’ll go to prison now for sure,” Trixie said. “Maybe he’ll stay there this time. Gee, I hope Moms and Dad won’t be mad at me.”

“They won’t be,” Brian said. “They’re pretty swell!”

The next day crowds thronged the showroom from the opening hour until it closed. Every article on the sales side of the room was sold, with orders for more.

Mr. Stratton and the members of the school board all came. They bought things and walked around as proudly as though they had originated the idea of the antique show.

At eight o’clock Jim and Trixie locked the front door and drew the blinds. All the borrowed antiques had to be returned to the owners that night. Regan and Tom
carried them to the waiting station wagon and pickup truck parked in back of the building.

“Forget them,” Regan told the Bob-Whites. “Tom and I’ll deliver them.”

Spider put the day’s receipts into a strongbox and handed the heavy box to Trixie for safekeeping.

At home in the Belden kitchen, Trixie, Honey, Diana, Jim, Brian, and Mart counted the money.

The total sent them whooping around the kitchen like Indians.

It amounted to $763.94!

“We still haven’t sold the rings that were in the musical jewel box,” Jim said. “I don’t know how much more money that will mean.”

“Spider’s almost sure Trixie will get a reward for helping capture Snipe Thompson and his pal,” Mart said. “Do you know, I think the detective business may not be a bad business to get into after all. This is about the third reward Trixie will have had.”

“If there
is
any reward, it will go into the UNICEF fund,” Trixie said, “and,” she added ruefully, “Moms said there must be no more detective work till school’s out.”

“Did you promise?” Honey asked hopefully.

“No,” Trixie said, her blue eyes brightening. “No, I don’t believe Moms asked me to promise.”