The Mystery of the Emeralds (19 page)

The inquiry was good-natured, but Trixie was furious. She made a flying leap toward her brother, but Jim managed to catch her by the shoulders. Turning to Mart he said, “I think you’d better take that crack back, Mart, old boy. After all, it’s Trixie who has got this close to the solution, so I can’t say I blame her for wanting to go on with it, can you?”

“Sorry, Trix, honest I am,” Mart apologized, his face reddening.

It wasn’t often that any of the Bob-Whites interfered when he teased his sister, but Mart knew this time he had gone a little too far. Trixie, quickly sensing the sincerity of his apology, forced back her anger.

“Jeepers, Mart,” she said. “I should know you well enough by now not to let you make me mad. But sometimes—sometimes you just get my goat!”

The little scene was interrupted when the Bob-Whites heard the telephone ring in Mr. Carver’s study, and it wasn’t long before he came wheeling back into the music room.

“It was your father, Di,” he said, excitement sounding in his voice. “He and Mrs. Lynch would like to come over and see Green Trees and he suggested we all have lunch with them afterward.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Di said enthusiastically. “I’ve been wanting them to see the house, but Daddy’s been so busy with all those old meetings that he hasn’t had time.”

“Now that you mention lunch, I realize I’m starving,” Mart said, hugging his middle with both arms. “We were all so excited we forgot to think about food.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever known
you
to forget
eats!
” Brian teased.

“Well, we could have resorted to dear Carolyn’s custard,” Mr. Carver said with a twinkle in his eye, “but Mr. Lynch’s invitation sounds much more appealing. Can you take a little time out from your investigations, Trixie? I think you need a short break.”

Trixie’s heart sank. She wasn’t the least bit interested in food. All she wanted was to get back into the passage and look for the X-marked brick. It was hard enough to have to wait until everyone had had a chance to see what the tunnel looked like, and now another delay! It occurred to her that she might suggest that they go to lunch without her, but she quickly vetoed this idea. She knew it would be impolite to Mr. Carver, who was anticipating meeting the Lynches with such obvious pleasure. She couldn’t throw a wet blanket on the party by not going along.

Swallowing her disappointment and making an effort to sound enthusiastic, she said, “An hour or two won’t make any difference, Mr. Carver. After all, the necklace has been hidden for a good many years, so I guess it won’t run away by itself now.”

“Good girl, Trixie,” Jim said under his breath as he came over to her. “Don’t think I don’t know how hard that was for you. You’re wonderful!”

By the time the Bob-Whites had freshened up, Mr. Carver had changed into a white linen suit and gone to the front door to watch for the visitors. It was quite apparent that he was unusually excited at the chance to show Green Trees to someone whom he knew had a special interest in it and more than ordinary appreciation of its beauty.

When Mr. and Mrs. Lynch arrived, the two men greeted each other warmly, and Mrs. Lynch, looking pretty and cool in a pale yellow dress, shook hands with Edgar Carver.

“After all we’ve heard about you from the Bob-Whites,” she smiled, “introductions seem scarcely necessary.”

“That is true,” he replied, “and I’ve been waiting for the time when I could welcome you to Green Trees. Suppose I take you through the house and then I’ll let Trixie bring you up-to-date on our latest discoveries.”

“A splendid idea!” Mr. Lynch answered. “If I weren’t so anxious to see these beautiful rooms, I’m afraid my curiosity about what those six have been up to would get the better of me.”

“We’ll meet you later, back in the music room,” Trixie said. “We have several things to do, so take your time.”

Once back at the entrance to the circular staircase Trixie, wanting to be perfectly fair about who should go first, repeated the old counting-out rhyme her mother had taught her years before.

“Intry, mintry, cutry, corn. Apple seed and apple thorn. Wire, briar, limber, lock. Six geese in a flock. One flew east. One flew west and one flew over the cuckoo’s nest.”

When it worked out that Di was to go first she drew back timidly.

“Honestly, Trix,” she said, “I’m scared to death to go down there alone. Can’t Mart come with me?”

“Well, the stairs are too narrow for more than one to go down at a time,” Trixie answered understandingly, “but Mart can go first and wait for you in the tunnel. There’s more room once you get in there.”

Mart was only too glad to have the chance to see the secret passage, and Di, her courage now fortified by his presence, followed him through the open panel. It wasn’t long before they were back, however, a disquieting look on their faces.

“What’s the matter, Di?” Trixie asked. “You look as though you’d seen a ghost.”

“And Mart, you look a little peaked, too,” Brian added. “What happened?”

“Remember what Mr. Carver said about the Green Trees ghost?” Mart asked. “Well, we didn’t see it, but we sure heard it!”

“Yes,” Di continued breathlessly. “We were just a little way inside the tunnel when we heard something tap-tap-tapping, just the way Mr. Carver said the stonemason’s ghost did. I don’t think we ought to go one step further with this crazy hunt, do you?” She looked anxiously from one to the other of the Bob-Whites.

“Oh, come on!” Trixie cried. “You don’t
really
think that was a ghost, do you?”

“It wasn’t just an ordinary ghost,” Mart said, his eyes bright with excitement. “It was an honest-to-goodness poltergeist! That’s what it was!”

“A
what?
” Honey asked.

“A poltergeist!” Mart repeated. “That’s a ghost who makes a lot of noise to call attention to himself, and I’ve read of any number of cases where people have heard them.”

“Well, poltergeist or just plain ghost, I, for one, don’t take any stock in them,” Trixie said positively. “I’m going back into that tunnel and see if I can find out what it was you heard, because I have a feeling you
did
hear something.”

“You’re not going in there alone, ghosts or no
ghosts!” Jim said. “I’ll come along, too. In fact, this time I insist on going first, Miss Belden.”

Trixie didn’t argue. Seeming a little relieved at Jim’s decision, she handed him the flashlight which Mart had given her when he and Di returned.

“Be absolutely quiet, Jim,” she whispered as they reached the entrance to the tunnel and started making their way through it.

There wasn’t a sound to be heard for some time and then Trixie tapped Jim on the shoulder and said under her breath, “Listen!”

They could hear definite sounds of a rapping, then a grating noise such as a trowel might make on stone, but there was no sign of life or light ahead of them.

“Keep going,” Trixie whispered tensely, pushing Jim ahead of her.

They proceeded inch by inch for some time until suddenly the flashlight revealed an obstruction in their path. It turned out to be a pile of dirt and brick completely blocking the passage. They could go no farther. Something, sometime, had caused this part of the tunnel to cave in. Again they listened in silence, and again they heard the same noises from the other side of the rubble.

At a sign from Trixie they started to retrace their
steps. When they had gone part way, Trixie whispered to Jim, “
Now
I know that ghost! It’s Jenkins digging on the other side! Let’s get out of here as fast as we can! We’ve got work to do!”

When they returned to the music room they found Mr. and Mrs. Lynch and Mr. Carver waiting for them. Di’s father was inspecting the panel with great interest.

“This is a unique house,” he said as Trixie and Jim emerged, “and Di tells us she and Mart heard the specter of the mason, which only adds to its fascination. Did you hear it, too, Trixie?” His jocular manner indicated that he, too, was skeptical about the ghost, and Trixie noticed that Di and Mart now seemed much more relaxed.

“No, it wasn’t a ghost,” she replied, “but I almost wish it had been!”

“What do you mean?” Honey asked. “You
did
hear something?”

“Yes,” Jim continued the story. “We heard the same tapping sounds and noises—as though someone were digging. Trixie thinks it was Jenkins. You see, the tunnel is blocked up halfway through, so we couldn’t tell for sure.”

“It looks to me, Trixie,” Mr. Lynch said, his voice becoming serious, “as if Jenkins is as confident as you
that the
real
necklace—” He paused at Trixie’s startled expression. “Yes,” he continued, “Mr. Carver told me about the trick Jenkins tried to pull with the phony emeralds. But what puzzles me is how he could have known about the tunnel and the marked brick.”

“Well, you see,” Trixie began, glancing at Mr. Carver, “we think he stole the directions Ruth left in the locket.”

“Why, you didn’t tell me you suspected anything like that,” Edgar Carver interposed. “You mean—” He started to speak again and then a strange expression swept over his face. “Wait a minute! Everything is beginning to come back to me. That day I fell out of the chair. He was here! I remember now, and he threatened me when I wouldn’t give him the locket. Everything after that is a complete blank until I came to on the sofa with Brian bandaging my head.”

“We suspected something like that, Mr. Carver,” Brian said. “Trixie found the locket with the paper gone the morning you were hurt, but we didn’t want to worry you about Jenkins unless we had to.”

“That was most considerate of you,” Edgar Carver said softly. “I only wish I could help you hunt for the marked brick. Time is running out for you, and now you have that man literally breathing down your neck. Have
you any suggestions, sir?” he asked Mr. Lynch. “You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Your question brings me to something I was going to tell you during lunch,” Mr. Lynch said with a smile. “Mrs. Lynch and I have fallen in love with this part of the country, and during the last few days I have been making some inquiries about Rosewood Hall. I found that Jenkins’s scheme to start a horse farm isn’t working out very well, and he’s only too willing to sell.”

“You mean you’re going to buy it, Daddy?” Di asked eagerly.

“Yes, dear. I’ve looked over the property, and this morning the papers were signed. I hope to rebuild Rosewood just as it was originally,” Mr. Lynch said. “I can see now why Jenkins was so eager to sell and get out of the neighborhood.”

“Yes,” Trixie mused, “he probably thought he could sell the imitation necklace to Mr. Carver, discover the real emeralds, and clear out before anyone heard about it and tried to stop him.”

“Unquestionably the man is a scoundrel,” Mr. Lynch agreed, “so I’d advise you to carry on your search without delay. We’ll have to stay on a day or so longer than we first planned to wind up the details of the purchase, so you don’t need to worry about having to leave
for home, Trixie. But you
do
have to worry about Jenkins beating you to the treasure! I don’t take legal possession of Rosewood until tomorrow, so you see I can’t yet order him off the property.”

“Your acquisition of Rosewood is certainly exciting news!” Edgar Carver said warmly. “I shall not only be extremely glad to get rid of Jenkins, but I shall welcome having you as a neighbor.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mr. Lynch replied cordially. “I don’t know how much time I’ll be able to spend here, but I hope to vacation at Rosewood as often as I can.” Then, glancing at Trixie, he continued, “But I can see Trixie is impatient to get back to the secret passage. Shall we go to lunch right now and not lose any more time?”

Trixie suddenly decided she would
have
to change her mind about going to lunch with the others. Even an hour might make the difference between success and failure, and now that Mr. Carver and the Lynches knew about the strange noises in the tunnel, she felt they would understand her decision.

“Honestly, Mr. Lynch,” she said, “I couldn’t eat a thing right now. Would you think I was terribly impolite if I just stayed here and went on hunting?”

“Not at all. Not at all,” he replied, “if Jim will stay with you. You may need some help, you know.”

“Of course I’ll stay,” Jim was quick to reply. “Come on, Trix, let’s get going!”

“Just a minute, me hearties,” Mart interrupted in his best imitation of an English accent. “What about the rest of us? If you coves think you’re going to pull this caper without me, you’re dotty!” He turned to the other Bob-Whites. “Right, chaps?”

It was Brian, the eldest, who made the decision.

“Look, Mart,” he said understandingly. “I know how you feel, and Honey and Di, too, for that matter. We’d all like to go to the end of the trail, but there’s just so much space below stairs to work in, so what really could we do to help?” He looked around for confirmation. “I vote we appoint Trixie and Jim to go on with the hunt while the rest of us go to lunch. What do you say?”

For a moment there was silence. Then Mart broke it with a groan.

“Why did you have to mention food, dear brother of mine? You knew what I’d say.” Turning to the girls he went on cheerily, “No adventurer, I, when the dinner bell rings. Let’s go eat!”