The Trail of the Green Doll

by Margaret Sutton

  CHAPTER XII The Game of Secrets

  Horace made good time coming home. He was really driving too fast, Judythought, but she didn’t say anything. She was too busy thinking aboutthe caretaker, who had stood watching them sullenly as they drove away.

  “Horace,” she said suddenly, “either that man _was_ involved in therobbery, or else he was away at the time and is trying to keep itsecret.”

  “It’s no good trying to keep secrets like that,” Honey said. “I tried itonce, and it didn’t work. I only got myself tangled in a web of lies. Itwas when I told the truth that everything came clear.”

  “I’m glad you said that,” declared Judy. “I think the truth would solvemost of our problems. Don’t you, Mrs. Riker?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, “will solve my problems now. I wish I had nevercome back. At least I could have kept the memory of the place the way itused to be.”

  “Was it such a pleasant memory?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted. “It was anything but pleasant except for onehappy summer. That summer stood out so clearly in my memory that it mademe forget all the dreary hours that followed. It all comes back to menow. The house was filled with heavy, carved furniture. There was onechair with snakes curling over the back. You couldn’t sit in it. Astatue sat there. You had to be quiet when you went near it. There wereso many statues! But I think I remember the quiet most of all. I wasn’tallowed to interrupt if anyone spoke, but nobody ever said anything muchexcept, ‘Don’t touch!’ And there were so many beautiful things I wantedto touch. Now where are they?”

  “At least they didn’t go up in smoke when the house burned,” Horacepointed out.

  “It is a strange thing,” agreed Judy. “The thieves didn’t know they weresaving them. Your uncle should be grateful.”

  Mrs. Riker smiled, as if the thought of his gratitude amused her. Thenshe said, “What really distresses me is the condition of the caretaker’scottage. You wouldn’t think it to look at it now, but that kitchen wasonce almost as pleasant as yours, Judy, if I may call you that. Do callme Helen.”

  Honey turned around and smiled at Judy, remembering a secret betweenthem. She had been called Helen for a little while before Judy found outthat her real name was Grace Dobbs and that she was Peter’s sister.

  “You like that name, don’t you?” Honey asked.

  “Yes, and I like Helen Riker,” Judy declared warmly. “I think we aregoing to be good friends.”

  “I hope so. I’m like Uncle Paul,” Mrs. Riker admitted. “I need friendsas I never needed them before. My husband is dead, as you must haveguessed. He was a reckless driver, especially when he was alone. He waskilled in an accident.”

  “What was that?” asked Horace, cutting down on his speed.

  “You heard it. You might take it as a warning,” Judy told him. “You haveplenty of time to write up this story. The _Herald_ doesn’t go to pressuntil tomorrow morning. ‘Slow down and live,’ as the road signs say.”

  “Thanks, I will,” he replied. “I was just trying to get you home in timefor supper.”

  “I’ll get supper better if I’m all in one piece. I haven’t decided whatwe’ll have, but you’re all invited,” Judy told them.

  But Horace said he had other plans—which included Honey.

  “Anyway,” Judy said, “we want you and the children to stay, Helen.”

  Mrs. Riker smiled as if the use of her first name cemented theirfriendship. She was a beautiful woman when she forgot to be worried andfrightened. Judy guessed she was still in her early thirties.

  “You must have married very young,” she commented a little later.

  “Too young,” Helen Riker replied. “I hadn’t learned to do my ownthinking.”

  What did she mean? Apparently she still didn’t want to think about herproblems, but the children did. Penny seemed bursting with things shewanted to say. They had passed the dam and were just coming to the placewhere the North Hollow road turned off at an angle, when the little girlsuddenly cried out, “Here’s where we were when the bad men went off withMommy’s pocketbook.”

  “Did they go down that road?” asked Horace.

  “No,” said Paul. “They drove off down the main road. That’s where we metthose kids who are having the magic show. But Wally Brown wasn’t withthe kids who found Mom’s pocketbook—”

  “Maybe he didn’t want them to look for it! Maybe it was his voice weheard!” exclaimed Judy.

  “It’s a good theory and basically sound,” Horace pointed out, “but yourtiming’s wrong. The voice said ‘Don’t look for it!’ _before_ Mrs. Rikerlost her pocketbook—not afterwards. I figure the robbery happened in amatter of minutes after those men left you.”

  “I don’t understand it,” Honey put in. “It was in the paper thismorning.”

  “Horace is talking about the theft of the pocketbook, not the bigrobbery. But I have a feeling they’re related in some way,” Judy saidthoughtfully.

  “Maybe one is the uncle of the other,” Horace teased her. “Seriously,”he continued, “I agree that there may be some connection. If thismagician had been with them—”

  “He isn’t a robber,” Penny interrupted. “I know he isn’t. His magic isreal. You’ll see at the magic show. We can go to it, now that we’recoming back to live with you, can’t we, Judy?”

  “What’s this?” Horace asked in surprise. “So you’re going to live withJudy, are you? Don’t you think Peter may have something to say aboutthat?”

  “He didn’t even know about the tourist sign,” Judy confessed. “We put itup this morning as a sort of a lark. We might have trapped the robbers,but it looks as if we caught the victims instead.”

  “You may have caught them both. The robbers who stole my pocketbookasked if I knew where Uncle Paul’s jade collection is,” Mrs. Rikerconfessed, “but if the house was robbed two days ago, they’d have beenthere already.”

  “That would be a story: ‘THIEVES OVERLOOK VALUABLE JADE COLLECTION,’”Horace commented.

  “But did they?” Judy asked. “My theory is that they only overlooked onepiece—”

  She stopped suddenly, deciding not to mention the tiny green object inher pocket until she had shown it to Peter and discussed the whole thingwith him. Quickly she changed the subject to ask, “Could the police haveknown about the fire when they gave you the news of the robbery,Horace?”

  “Who knows?” he replied. “Everybody seems to be playing the game ofsecrets. The theft of your pocketbook should have been reported, Mrs.Riker. You’re protecting the thieves when you hold back information fromthe police.”

  “Oh dear!” she said, becoming suddenly flustered. “I didn’t mean to dothat. I suppose they should know what happened, but please keep my nameout of it. I don’t want to become involved. Maybe you could tell them Ihave my pocketbook back—”

  “Empty,” Horace reminded her.

  “They didn’t want it,” Penny spoke up. “They only wanted what wasinside.”

  “What _was_ inside?” asked Judy, hoping her new friend had taken Honey’slittle speech about truth-telling to heart.

  “There’s a light inside,” observed Honey]

  “Not much,” Mrs. Riker replied quickly. “I only had a few dollars left,just about enough to get us to Uncle Paul’s. There was nothing else ofany consequence.”

  “No green doll?” Judy wanted to ask. But would Helen Riker admit it?They were nearly home now, but the game of secrets was not over. EvenHorace acted as if he knew one.

  “What does consequence mean?” Penny was asking.

  “The dictionary says it’s the natural result of an act,” Judy began.

  She had read the dictionary once in order to win a spelling bee, andoften quoted definitions from it.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m so confused I don’t know what I mean,”Mrs. Riker confessed. “I didn’t tell those horrible men where anythingwas. I couldn’t have. I didn’
t know!”

  “They must have overlooked something or they wouldn’t have stopped you.How did they know who you were?” asked Judy.

  “A voice from the trees told them, no doubt,” Horace said dryly.

  Her brother was joking, Judy knew. But he had certainly found outsomething. They were just passing the tree that had “talked,” but therewas no voice from it now. The rain had turned to snow which clung to thebranches, frosting them with white. The house had a white roof.

  “There’s a light inside,” observed Honey as Horace drove up the snowyslope to stop before the door.