He had what Judy called that “eager beaver” look in his eye. “I may as well warn you, Mrs. Riker,” she said, “that my brother is a newspaper reporter. He’s good at finding out things.”
“And I may as well warn you,” Horace retorted, “that my sister is known as quite a detective. She’s good at finding out things, too.”
“Secrets?” asked Penny.
“You’d be surprised,” Honey said with a reassuring smile, for the little girl seemed suddenly frightened, “how many she’s kept and is still keeping.”
“More than even you know,” declared Judy.
“Are you keeping a secret about the talking trees?” asked Muriel. “Was it the magician? Magicians can do anything.”
“Was it a trick, Horace?” asked Judy. “Ventriloquism, maybe?”
She thought he might have guessed the answer. But he only shook his head and said, “A trick of the wind, perhaps.”
“It could have been magic,” Muriel insisted.
“It could have been anything!” exclaimed Honey, giving up. “A magic trick or the wind or fairies or the voice of a doll—”