laughing.
They made their way across the big lobby behind Mrs. Belden and Miss Trask. Trixie loved to look at people when she was in New York City. Their faces seemed so much more interesting than the ones she saw every day in Sleepyside.
She realized that it was probably just her own imagination that made it seem that way. But so what? She still liked to look at each person and try to figure out what sort of life they led. Perhaps they were movie stars, or maybe rich financiers, or even spies from foreign governments!
Suddenly, she was jolted out of her reverie by something far more upsetting than her own romantic imaginings. Her stomach contracted sharply as she caught sight of a familiar face in the lobby, and she grabbed Honey’s arm for support.
“Honey!” she gasped, pointing toward a group of armchairs by the window. “He’s right there! Look!”
“Who?” Honey asked.
“The red-haired man from Paris!” she managed to say. “He’s sitting right there!” Honey looked. Sure enough, there was a man with red hair sitting in the Sheraton lobby.
“But Trixie,” she whispered. “Are you sure he’s the same one you saw in Paris?”
“I’m positive,” Trixie said. “What on earth is he doing here? I wonder if he saw us? Let’s get out of here.”
When Miss Trask asked the girls if they wanted to stop for ice cream sodas, she was mildly surprised that they turned down the offer and asked to be taken home. Miss Trask and Mrs. Belden glanced at each other, deciding that perhaps the girls were more upset about losing the Eastern Regional than they’d originally let on.
“All right then,” Mrs. Belden said, smiling at them sympathetically. “I believe we can just make the 4:40 out of Grand Central if we rush.”
“Yes,” Trixie said, glancing over her shoulder. “That sounds like a terrific idea. Let’s rush!”
Trixie practically dragged the two women through the street and onto the bus. It wasn’t until they were all settled comfortably on the train to Sleepyside that she let out a sigh of relief.
“I kept my eyes peeled while we were walking,” she whispered to Honey, “and I don’t think he followed us.”
Honey glanced around them nervously, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Trixie,” she finally said when Miss Trask and Mrs. Belden were involved in a conversation. “Are you really sure that man was the same one you saw in Paris?”
“I’m positive,” Trixie said firmly. “Now, I just have to figure out why he’s here!”
8 * Wrongly Accused
TRIXIE PUSHED through the crowds of students in the school cafeteria, and tossed her books down on the table. She squeezed in between Mart and Brian, and tried to catch her breath. All the other members of the Bob-Whites were there too, because Trixie specifically asked them to meet her that day.
Trixie had decided that it was time to discuss her problem with all the Bob-Whites. She knew she could count on their help in times of need. But since they all had such busy school schedules, it had been a couple of days before she could get them all together. Only Dan couldn’t come today, because he was working.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said.
“Typical,” Mart said. “It’s just like you, Trixie, to call an emergency meeting and then neglect to show up.”
“But I did show up,” Trixie retorted. “It’s just that Mr. Stratton asked me to finish washing the beakers after chemistry, and I could hardly refuse, could I?”
“Okay, I have to admit you have a point,” Mart said with a smile. “Now tell us what this meeting is about.”
Trixie looked at Honey, and then began to talk.
“I realize this sounds farfetched,” she said when she’d told them all that had happened, “but I think there’s a definite connection between Mr. Reid’s antique doll and the man who was following us in Paris. I can’t figure it out all by myself, and I think we should get together and investigate as a team.”
“Not that
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