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and all that kind of thing to prove that he really is."
    "Of course he did," Honey said soothingly.
    And then to everyone’s surprise, Di suddenly whirled on Honey. "Of course he didn’t," she cried. "He didn’t have a single solitary thing to prove that he is my mother’s brother."
    Trixie’s mouth fell open with surprise. "Then you think he’s an impostor, Di?"
    "No, I don’t," Di replied. "Because he said all the right things. He told Mother all about the night she was born—he knew the exact hour and date and where they were living then. Besides, he’s been lost—if you want to call it that—for about thirty-five years, so how can you expect him to have saved anything like baby pictures of my mother, even if there were any?"
    "There probably weren’t any." Trixie agreed cheerfully. "Babies in poor families don’t go around having their pictures taken. Please forgive me, Di. I was completely wrong, and I didn’t mean a thing I said."
    Diana smiled. "There’s nothing to forgive, Trix. As a matter of fact, I wish my uncle were an impostor. What I really mean is, I wish he’d go away."
    "Oh, oh," Trixie interrupted. "A limousine just turned into the driveway. Come on, Di. We’ve got to keep your uncle away from Regan. We’ve just got toi"

Di’s Initiation • 5

    THE LYNCHES’ big, shiny limousine had turned around at the head of the driveway and was parked by the stable when Trixie, followed by Di, Honey, and Jim, got there. A small, thin man, who was wearing a dark suit and light spats, climbed out from behind the wheel. He looked so dressed up for that hour of the morning that Trixie couldn’t help staring at him in surprise.
    Still out of breath from running, Di panted, "Hello, Uncle Monty. This—is—are—Honey Wheeler and Trixie Belden and Jim Frayne."
    A broad smile crinkled Mr. Wilson’s weatherbeaten face. "Howdy, podners," he said. While he Was shaking hands with each one, Regan appeared and was introduced. "Howdy, podner," Mr. Wilson greeted him. "I take it you’re the groom. Came out to give the hosses a look-see. Know quite a bit about hossflesh, if I do say so myself, podner."
    "Great," Regan said pleasantly. "We bought a mare and a gelding dirt cheap in August. I’d like to hear what you think of them."
    "Oh, no, Uncle Monty," Diana cried quickly. "You mustn’t take up Regan’s time. He’s really awfully busy today."
    "Yes, that’s right," Honey added. "Some other time, Mr. Wilson, when you’re in riding clothes would be much, much better."
    Before she had finished speaking, Jim said, "You can’t judge a horse properly unless you put it through its gaits."
    And Trixie said, "You must let us show you around the Wheelers’ place, Mr. Wilson. It’s very beautiful at this time of year when the chrysanthemums are blooming and the dahlias and all." "Say, what’s the matter with you kids?" Regan demanded, scratching the back of his head with a puzzled expression on his face. "Since when did you ever worry about taking up my time?" "Why, Regan," Honey said innocently, "we always try to be considerate. You’ve often said so yourself. Why, only yesterday you told Daddy you’d quit if it weren’t for the fact that we keep the horses so well exercised and groomed. Why, you’re forever complaining about how overworked you are, especially in the mornings when there’s so much to do. Why, I wouldn’t think of letting Mr. Wilson disrupt your routine. Why—" "That’s five why’ s," Regan interrupted. "Four too many for my money. So I’m always complaining, am I? When I do quit, and you try somebody else, see how long he lasts with five crazy kids always getting involved in mysteries, especially Trixie.’’ He gave them all, especially Trixie, a glare and said to Mr. Wilson, "Come on inside, sir. It isn’t often I get a chance to talk with an expert about horses."
    As soon as the two men were out of sight, Trixie grabbed Honey’s arm. "Say, what’s wrong with you? You’re