The girls pressed the draperies and put them back on the windows. They rearranged the things they had made on the shelves—dolls and aprons, repainted toys, small framed pictures. Mart, furious at the scratches on the cherry gate-leg tables, worked and rubbed till the marks disappeared. Finally the clubhouse was in order again. Only the samurai swords seemed to be missing. Not a trace of them could be found. The burglars must have made off with them. “It’s a shame we didn’t sell them to the Hakaito brothers when they wanted to buy them,” Brian said. “Now we’ll probably never see them again, and they won’t do anyone any good.” Trixie didn’t think the police were trying very hard to investigate the robbery at the clubhouse. “Why do they have to take forever to find anything out?” she asked the others. “I’d like to do a little investigating myself.” “Lay off it,” Mart warned. “You know what Moms and Dad said … no more sleuthing.” “I don’t have time now before the show,”
