“For which you collect handsomely, to the extent of five legal simoleons per week. Pretty neat!” Mart gibed.
“Most of which she puts into the B.W.G. treasury,” Brian reminded him, with a mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes. “Not like some people I could mention.”
Mart’s color flared. “Just because I held out two measly dollars last week—” he exploded. Then he saw that they were both laughing, and he grinned with them. “I had to buy Dad a new tie because I spilled catsup on the one I borrowed from him, and it wasn’t washable.”
“Washable catsup. Now, that’s something I haven’t seen yet. Have you, Trixie?” Brian teased.
Trixie giggled. She was enjoying herself because Brian was giving Mart the same kind of teasing that her almost-twin usually gave her.
“Trixie! Will you come here?” her mother called. She still had her arm around Gaye’s shoulders and was starting toward the house with the little girl and her aunt and the other two women.
“Okay, Moms,” Trixie called. Then hastily she asked Brian, “Did Mart tell you about what we’re going to do tomorrow?”
Brian nodded. “I’ll draw you kids a map so you won’t end up in the Hudson River instead of Martin’s Marsh. Wish we could drive you there, but we’re tied up. Mart told you about that, I guess.”
Trixie nodded. “Would he ever miss telling me bad news?” she asked, with a grimace at Mart. “Thanks, Brian.”
Then she hurried to join her mother.
“Dear, would you take Gaye to your room and let her freshen up?”
Trixie looked at Gaye and made herself smile. Gaye looked bored. “Come along, Gaye.” The little girl, with a tiny shrug of her shoulders, followed Trixie to the house.
Trixie wasn’t aware for a minute or two that Bobby was tagging along, until he started up the stairs close on their heels.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She smiled at Bobby while Gaye went on ahead. “Run back to Moms, and we’ll be with you soon.”
“But I wanna give her a plesent,” he insisted, “because she’s so pretty.” He held a rather grimy small box tightly in one hand.
“What is it?” Trixie asked suspiciously, knowing Bobby. The “plesent” might be anything from a collection of rocks to a garter snake. She reached for the box.
“No, it’s for her.” Bobby held it away. “You mustn’t take it.”
“Let me look at it, Bobby!” Trixie frowned.
But Bobby, shaking his head vigorously, darted past her and up the stairs to the landing, where Gaye was waiting.
“Here!” He thrust the box at Gaye. “It’s Oscar!”
Trixie gasped. She knew who Oscar was. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed and started up the stairs again to stop Gaye from opening the box. “Don’t take it!”
But Gaye held the box behind her and looked haughtily at Trixie. “He gave it to me! Didn’t you, boy?”
Bobby nodded vigorously while he stared admiringly at Gaye and shyly thrust a thumb into his mouth.
Gaye started to open the box, and Trixie got ready for a scream. She was surprised when Gaye, after cautiously peeking into the partially open box, closed it again and smiled at Bobby. “A darling little chameleon! And you’re giving it to me!”
“Because you’re pretty,” Bobby said, continuing to admire her.
“Well, thank you,” Gaye said in a very sweet voice that was a startling change from the one she had used in speaking to Trixie. “Now, be a good boy, and I’ll give you one of my latest photos.”
Bobby took the thumb out of his mouth long enough to say, “Awright! I’ll wait for you!” Then he scooted downstairs, grinning happily.
Trixie swallowed hard. After all the hours she put in taking care of him and reading him to sleep each night, a head of blond curls had won his heart! She went up the stairs to Gaye. “Come on, I’ll take you to my room,” she told Gaye abruptly as she passed her.
“First, get rid of this horrible thing!” Gaye thrust the box and its contents at Trixie. “Aren’t small children a nuisance? They bore me.”
Trixie took the box without answering. She felt a temptation to remind Gaye that, prodigy or not, she was only a small child herself—and pretty much of a monster, too!
Then, as they entered Trixie’s neat little bedroom and Trixie saw Gaye look about her with scornful eyes, she had a horrible thought. Gaye was staying at Honey’s house. That could mean that Honey would be stuck with her tomorrow and they couldn’t take their trip to Martin’s Marsh. Neither she nor Di would have as much fun without Honey along, so the expedition would have to be postponed. And next Saturday would probably be the same.
The world seemed suddenly very dark indeed to Trixie—and all on account of a golden-haired virtuosa of the violin.
The Expedition ● 4
AFTER THE VISITORS had left for the Wheelers’, Trixie began to feel better. A quick call to Honey revealed that her mother saw no reason why Honey should stay home the next day to entertain the little girl. Gaye would have to practice most of the day, as she had to do before every concert, so Honey would be free.
Di wasn’t so lucky. Her mother had planned a day of shopping in White Plains with her, and Di had to go. She wailed about it over the phone to Trixie.
Trixie hesitated. They’d have more fun if they all went next Saturday. But suppose Honey were busy then, or she was. She decided she’d have to take that chance. “Okay, Di. We’ll put it off—”
Di interrupted, “Hold on a minute.” There was a murmur of voices from Di’s end of the line as Trixie held on. Then Di came back on the phone. “There’s no use in your upsetting your plans, Trix. Mom says next week we’re taking both pairs of twins to Grandma’s for
a visit. So you and Honey go ahead and have fun.”
Trixie felt guilty about being relieved that she and Honey wouldn’t have to put off the little expedition. “Tell you what, Di,” she said hastily. “Whatever we bring back, half is for you to take to class. I’m sure we’ll get loads of specimens. Brian’s going to make us a list of what to look for, and he’ll even draw some pictures of them so we won’t miss them!”
“Oh, thanks, Trix! You’re the best,” Di assured her.
“Well, kiss the twins for me,” Trixie told her as she hung up. The two pairs of twins were still small, and though the Lynches were very wealthy and had two nurses to care for them, Di received an extra allowance for taking the nurses’ places on their days off. It was fun, and it gave her something to contribute to the Bob-Whites’ treasury every week.
Trixie awoke early next morning and at once made a dash for the window to see if the weather was good. The ground was damp, but the sky was clear, except for a few fleecy clouds that moved rapidly away to the west.
“Thank goodness it rained during the night and got it over with!” she murmured, dressing hurriedly in her jeans and a stout pair of brogans. She would have preferred sneakers, because they didn’t tire her when she hiked, but Moms had made her promise to wear waterproofs on this expedition because it would undoubtedly be damp underfoot in the marsh.
The house seemed very quiet, and Trixie decided that she must be the first one up. She tiptoed around getting dressed, making as little noise as possible, because she didn’t want to wake Bobby. He would be sure to want to go with them, and it just wasn’t possible.
She tiptoed out of her room and down the hall. She had some chores to do, like feeding the chickens and gathering the newly laid eggs. That wouldn’t take long. Usually she had dishes to wash and beds to make as part of her duties, but her mother had offered to do them today to help her out.
She pushed open the kitchen door and was surprised to see her mother and father having breakfast. Her dad wore a warm shirt and heavy overalls.
“Well, dear, you’re up early. There’s some hot cereal on the stove, and I’ve fixed a good lunch for you and Honey.” Mrs. Belden pointed to a packed basket that was waiting on the sink.
“Thanks heaps, Moms,” T
rixie said gratefully. “I didn’t think anybody’d be awake yet.”
“We’ve all been up quite a while, except for Bobby. I’m letting him sleep,” her mother explained.
“You mean Brian and Mart are gone already?” Trixie asked, dismayed. “Brian promised—”
Her mother smiled and nodded toward a sheet of paper propped up against the lunch basket. “He kept his promise. There’s your map, carefully marked. And he’s added a list of swamp plants you’ll find at this time of year. Also a few landmarks, so you can’t possibly miss your way.”
Trixie dashed over and got the paper. The map was drawn with Brian’s usual neatness. Not only was their route marked, but also how far they had to go along each section of it before coming to a turn. “This is super!” Trixie announced happily. “We’ll whiz right out there without a bit of trouble. Brian’s a doll!”
“I’m sure he’d enjoy that description!” Mr. Belden laughed. He was dark, like Brian, and usually quite serious. Trixie supposed it was because he had such a responsible job at the Sleepyside Bank, and maybe people didn’t think bankers should have a sense of humor. At least, that’s what Mart had told her.
“Don’t work too hard, dear,” Mrs. Belden reminded her husband as he kissed her and started for the door. “Remember, you have your own planting to do after you help Mr. Maypenny and the boys!”
“You know we’ll spend half the time resting!” he chuckled. Then, as Trixie bustled about getting ready for her trip, he paused in the doorway. “Remember, we want you back here before dark. No excuses.”
“Of course, Dad!” Trixie assured him. “Have you ever been to the marsh yourself?”
“Several times,” he told her, “but not for quite a while. It’s quite a historic spot.”
“Really?” Trixie was surprised. “Did an Indian massacre happen there? Was it a battlefield during the Revolution?”
“Neither. The legend is that Captain Kidd, the notorious pirate, was a friend and business partner of old Ezarach Martin, who owned all the land for miles around the swamp. So it was natural to suspect that Kidd buried a lot of his treasure in the swamp.”
Trixie gasped. “Maybe we’ll find some of his loot!” Her father smiled. “Hardly possible. He was executed two hundred and fifty years ago, and I’m quite sure that since then at least two hundred and fifty treasure hunters have dug in that swamp, without finding anything but mud and frogs.”
“Didn’t anyone find the least bit of pirate gold?” Trixie hated to give up.
“Not a trace of it. And worse than that—” he paused and looked mysterious—“I’ve heard that some of the diggers saw Captain Kidd’s ghost flitting about through the marsh at midnight now and again. So you be sure to start for home before sundown.”
“Br-r-r! We certainly will!” Trixie laughed. She knew that there was no such thing as a ghost and that her father was just joking.
After her father left for the Maypenny garden, Trixie dashed out and did her chores, gathering the eggs and feeding the hens.
When she brought in the eggs, her mother told her quickly, “I hear Bobby running around upstairs, dear. You’d better be on your way before he discovers you intend to desert him. You know what a fuss he’ll make.”
“I’m on my way!” She snatched up the lunch basket, gave her mother a good-bye kiss, and was turning to go, when she remembered something. “Oh, I almost forgot! Did Brian tell you about the copperhead?”
“Yes, dear. They went out and took care of him and two others. I don’t think we’ll be bothered the rest of the season.”
“That’s fine.” Trixie was relieved. “Well, so long, Moms. We’ll be back early.” This time she got as far as the door before she stopped. “I sort of hate to run off and leave you with all the work and Bobby, too,” she said weakly.
Mrs. Belden smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Bobby and I will be going over to Wheelers’ a little later. Gaye has promised Bobby a picture of herself, and I gave him my word at bedtime that I’d take him there this morning.” Trixie frowned. “Moms—” she started to say and then hesitated.
Mrs. Belden could see that something was troubling Trixie. “What is it?”
Trixie swallowed hard. “Moms, don’t you think Gaye is awfully spoiled? She was positively rude about my room. And she said our Bob-White jackets were corny.”
“That’s only her opinion. Why should it worry you, dear? She’s just a little girl, hardly older than Bobby. And don’t forget that she leads a very different life from the one you girls and boys live here. I doubt that the poor child has a real home and friends her own age.”
“Just the same,” Trixie said stubbornly, “she doesn’t have to be so snippy. And she says one thing and means something else—like pretending, sweet as pie, that she liked Bobby’s chameleon that he gave her and then telling me it was horrible.”
Mrs. Belden smiled. “That’s what people call a ‘polite fib,’ dear. It isn’t quite honest, but I imagine Gaye didn’t want to hurt Bobby’s feelings by telling him how she really felt.”
“Well”—Trixie frowned—“anyhow, she doesn’t have to be so la-di-da and turn up her nose at other people’s things.”
“I’m sure she’ll get over that after she’s become used to you and Honey. The three of you will be friends in no time at all.” Her mother saw that Trixie was still looking stubborn and told her gently, “I’m expecting you to be kind to the poor little girl. Promise?”
Trixie ran back to her mother and gave her a hug. “Oh, Moms! You can always find excuses for people, and then I realize I’m a monster. I’ll try to like Gaye. I promise.”
“Good girl! Now run along, or Honey will think you’ve changed your mind about exploring the marsh.”
The clubhouse door was open as Trixie pedaled along Glen Road to the foot of the Wheeler driveway. Trixie felt the thrill she always experienced when she looked at the neat little cottage with its well-trained wisteria and honeysuckle vines. And, as usual, she reflected that the Bob-Whites had done a good job of fixing up the old gatehouse. It had taken plenty of work, but it had been worth it.
Trixie dismounted and went in. Jim was kneeling beside Honey’s bike, putting a tire on the rear rim. Honey, watching, was handing him the tools.
“What happened?” Trixie asked quickly.
“I picked up an old nail somewhere,” Honey explained, “but Jim’s putting one of his own tires on.”
“Well, hurry it up.” Trixie waved her hand airily.- “We ladies have a date with Captain Kidd’s ghost at Martin’s Marsh!”
Jim grinned broadly and shook his tire iron at Trixie.
“You get sassy with me, small fry, and I’ll tell Regan I've decided not to exercise your horse for you this morning. You know what’ll happen then!”
Trixie clapped her hands to her head and groaned.
“Do I? He’ll insist on my taking Susie for an extra-long run, and we’ll never get started for the marsh!”
“Stop teasing Trixie, Jim.” Honey laughed. “Don’t let him scare you, Trix. We’ve had both Starlight and Susie out for a canter already.”
“I went along,” a sharp little voice said. “I rode Lady.” Gaye, looking very neat in an expensive riding outfit, leaned in the doorway, watching them coolly.
Trixie was surprised, but Honey said promptly, “That’s right. Gaye’s a splendid rider.”
“I learned at the best school in Paris,” the little girl said grandly, “and they had really fine horses, not like these slowpokes here.”
Trixie’s face flushed with indignation, and she turned to Jim and Honey, expecting them to defend their horses. But Honey was smiling indulgently at Gaye, and Jim was chuckling as he finished with the bike.
“I imagine they did, at that,” Jim agreed blithely. He handed the bike over to Honey. “There you are, Honey. Have a grand time, and don’t fall into the swamp.” He turned to Trixie. “Did Brian give you the map?”
“He left it for me.” Trixie fished the
folded map out of her pocket and handed it to him. “It’s a whiz!”
Jim glanced at it. “I’ll say! Very neat, indeed. He practically leads you by the hand and tells you what to look for when you arrive. Good old Brian!”
Gaye stepped over and thrust her head between Jim and Honey to stare at the map. “Why are you going there?”
“To pick some flowers,” Trixie answered shortly. “Very special ones that you wouldn’t know about.”
Gaye looked up at her impudently. “I think I’ll ask Aunt Della to let me go with you!” she announced.
“But it’s—” Trixie started, with a frown. She stopped as she caught Honey’s eye, and Honey shook her head warningly. Trixie finished lamely, “It’s too far for you.”
“I guess I can do it if you can.” Gaye scowled, and she turned to Honey. “May I ask her, Honey?”
“Go ahead, but hurry. We have to get started,” Honey told her hastily.
Gaye darted out of the clubhouse, and they could hear her running up the cement driveway.
“Oh, Honey!” Trixie groaned. “You know she’ll be a worse nuisance than Bobby! Besides, she doesn’t have a bike, and we’ll have to take turns letting her use ours!”
“Don’t worry,” Honey said calmly. “I heard Miss Crandall tell the governess that Gaye must start practicing the sonata by ten o’clock sharp. There’s no chance of her tagging along with us.”
“Then why do we wait? It’s getting late,” Trixie reminded her friend, “and I promised Dad that we’d be home before dark, without fail.”
Honey looked troubled. “But I practically told her we’d wait until she had asked her aunt.” She looked appealingly at her adopted brother. Whenever Honey had to make an important decision, she liked to get Jim’s advice. “What do you think we’d better do?” she asked him.
“Simple. Just go on, you kids. It’s so close to ten o’clock now that I doubt if her aunt even lets her come back here to tell you she can’t go with you. I’ll be busy here for a few minutes, and if she does show up, I’ll tell her the truth. You knew she had to practice, so you didn’t wait, but you were sorry she couldn’t go. If she gets angry, she’ll get over it.” He waved them on.
The Marshland Mystery Page 3