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assumed was a closet, but which she now realized was another small room.
    Faint metallic sounds came from the room. Then Mr. Lytell came back. He handed a sheaf of bills to Laura Ramsey. “Two thousand dollars,” he said. “Count it, please.”
    Trixie’s jaw dropped open. She turned and looked at Honey, whose hazel eyes were perfect circles.
    Only Laura Ramsey seemed unsurprised by the huge amount of cash. Of course, Trixie thought, after she had seen her father pay twelve thousand dollars in cash for her car, two thousand probably didn’t seem like very much.
    Laura dutifully counted the money, then opened her handbag and put the bills inside. She took out the keys to her car and handed them to Mr. Lytell. “Here you are,” she said. “I can mail you the title to it from the city.”
    “Thank you,” he said politely. “I’ll just drive the car around to the back and leave it there.” Then he peered at Honey and Trixie over his glasses. “And I’ll thank you girls—and you, too, Miss Ramsey—not to tell anyone what just went on here. Otherwise, I’ll be an easy target for anyone around who wants to beg, borrow, or steal money. Not that there’s anything left to beg, borrow, or steal since I took that two thousand out of the safe.”
    Trixie thought she detected a note of cunning in the way Mr. Lytell added the last sentence. It made Trixie wonder if he was telling the truth, but she nodded her agreement to the promise, as did Honey and Laura.
    Again Laura stood up. “I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble someone for a ride to town, so that I can catch a bus for New York City. I hate to have to face everyone, but I certainly can’t afford a hotel.”
    “Why don’t you stay with us?” Honey asked. “We have plenty of room, and I think you ought to stay here, near where we found the last trace of your father.”
    “That would be asking too much,” Laura said.
    “No, it wouldn’t,” Honey assured her. “I’ll call Miss Trask right now and ask if you can stay with us. We’ll just tell her that your car is stuck here, and you have no place to go till you can get it back. She’s really nice about not asking a lot of questions.”
    Forgetting to ask for permission, Honey reached right across Mr. Lytell for the phone. When she hung up, she turned triumphantly to Laura. “It’s all set, and Jim will be here to pick us up in a couple of minutes.”
    “You really are too kind. After not feeling that I could trust anyone for the past few months, it’s wonderful to happen upon strangers who are so helpful.” Laura’s smile took in Trixie, Honey, and Mr. Lytell. Then, turning back to Honey, she said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to make a couple of long-distance calls when we get to your house. I’ll make up some story for my father’s secretary, and then I’ll call the private detective my friend told me about.”
    “Of course,” Honey said.
    Laura and the girls walked out of the store to wait for Jim. Laura paused beside her car and ran her hand along one gleaming fender.
    “You’ll get your car back,” Trixie told her.
    “I’m sure I will,” Laura replied. “I just hate to part with it, even for a day.” She paused, then added, “Also, I don’t know how to get the title for Mr. Lytell, now that I’m not going home.”
    “He has the keys,” Honey said. “I’m sure that’s enough. After all, it’s only temporary. You’ll pay him back and get your car when your father has returned—and that will be very soon!”
    Just then Jim pulled up in the Bob-White station wagon. He got out of the car and walked over to the girls, his gaze fastened on Laura Ramsey.
    Honey introduced her brother to Laura, and he ran around to hold the front passenger door open for Laura, while Trixie and Honey climbed into the backseat. Then he loaded the bicycles in the back of the car.
    Jim drove first to Crabapple Farm, where he unloaded Trixie’s bike and said a quick good-bye to her.
    “We’ll call you