The Hudson River Mystery

by Campbell, Julie

  Trixie had to stand up in order to see the houseboat tied to a rock below. The day was so warm that it was no surprise to see several pleasure boats floating down the river. Trixie watched them for a minute, then cried, ”Gleeps, look at that sailboat! Isn’t it clever?”

  A small catboat was floating past them, close enough so that Trixie could see the two young boys inside it. On the boat’s one sail was printed its name, Quarter Moon, as well as a picture of a crescent moon.

  ”It must have been named after the Half Moon," Trixie explained to Bunker. ”That was the ship Henry Hudson came in during the seventeenth century, when he became the first white man to explore this area.”

  ”I know,” said Bunker, looking up briefly from his work. ”I also know who that boat belongs to—a couple of boys by the names of Ken and Carl. Spoiled rich kids, and none too handy with a boat, either.”

  Trixie sank back down on the boulder, deep in thought about sharks. Bunker certainly seems to know what he’s talking about, she told herself. But almost everything he said contradicts what Thea told me. And she’s supposed to be an expert on the Hudson! Thea had said a shark had been seen in the Hudson a year before, and Bunker said it had been thirty years before. She had said that the river used to be loaded with sharks, and Bunker said that simply wasn’t true. She seemed to take my word for it that I saw a shark, and it’s plain that Bunker would think I was insane if I told him I had seen one. Who am I supposed to believe...?

  Before Trixie could think of a way to prove Bunker right or wrong, she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye.

  ”Oh, no!” she screamed. ”Bunker, look at the Quarter Moon—it’s capsized! Ken and Carl went overboard!”

  To Trixie’s horror, Bunker hardly glanced up from his mending. ”They’ll have life preservers,” he grunted. ”Maybe this’ll teach them a lesson.”

  ”But—” Trixie helplessly watched the two boys flailing away at the water. She couldn’t see any life preservers. ”Teach them a lesson?” she cried. ”Do you call drowning a lesson?”

  Finally Bunker craned his neck to get a look at the boys. As he and Trixie watched, the sailboat drifted out of the boys’ reach. No other boats were nearby. The smaller boy’s head bobbed under the water once, and then again.

  Trixie knew she had to do something. But she couldn’t very well dive off the cliff, and she wasn’t an overly strong swimmer herself. Almost instinctively, she braced herself to yell louder than she’d ever yelled before. As far as she knew, there was only one other person within earshot, and Honey Wheeler was just about the best swimmer Trixie had ever seen.

  ”Honey! Honey, heeeeelp!”

  Trixie’s voice ricocheted down the cliff. Bunker was staring at her oddly, but Trixie ignored him. She kept roaring Honey’s name, meanwhile praying that her friend would hear.

  As if in answer to her prayers, suddenly Trixie caught a glimpse of Honey’s golden head down below on the shore. Honey was looking at Trixie, who waved and pointed frantically at the boys. Just as Trixie had hoped, Honey saw the problem immediately. In one smooth motion, she ran for the bank and dived into the blue-green water.

  Panting with relief, Trixie sank to her knees and kept her eyes on the boys. With her smooth, powerful strokes, Honey had almost reached them. Just as Trixie began to wonder if Honey was going to have trouble towing two boys in to shore, she saw another figure leaping off the bank into the water. It was Brian!

  ”Jiminy jeepers,” she groaned. ”Brian’s an awfully good swimmer, but he just got out of the hospital! And that water must be freezing, not to mention how strong the current must be...

  Bunker didn’t seem to pay any attention to Trixie’s remarks. He threw his mending aside and disappeared down a path in the opposite direction from which Trixie had come. Rather than ponder this mysterious behavior, Trixie merely glared after him and turned back to watch the river drama. Honey and Brian had overtaken Ken and Carl, but from where Trixie stood, it appeared that the boys were actually fighting the others’ efforts to rescue them.

  Trixie decided that she wasn’t doing anybody any good where she was, and she began hastily climbing down the cliff. She had caught sight of

  Loyola hovering on the shore near their prearranged meeting place. Trixie figured that she and Loyola could make themselves useful by being on hand to help the others up the bank. As she headed in that direction, Trixie tried to make sense out of Bunker’s reaction to this calamity.

  He claims he’s been fishing this river for forty years, she thought angrily. You’d think an experienced man of the river would be on the lookout for people in trouble and be willing to help them. What an unpleasant, hard-hearted man!

  Trixie stubbed her toe on a rock and paused to rub it. Suddenly it occurred to her that perhaps Bunker had exaggerated his experience on the river to impress her. That might explain why his statements about sharks differed so much from Thea’s—because he simply didn’t know what he was talking about. Now that she was thinking along those lines, it seemed to her that he had hesitated just a fraction too long before launching into his opinion on the subject. He’s covering up something, Trixie thought grimly.

  Then she was stopped in her tracks by the thought of something more dangerous.

  Sharks! she thought. Gripped with apprehension, she studied the four figures struggling in the Hudson, thinking again of the fin she had seen in these very waters the week before.

  A Serious Mistake 9

  SHARKS TURNED OUT TO BE the least of Honey and Brian’s problems in tugging Ken and Carl in to shore. The water was so calm, and Honey and Brian were such good swimmers, that their rescue effort should have been relatively easy. What they didn’t count on was the boys’ frantic desire to retrieve the Quarter Moon.

  Standing near Loyola, Trixie watched in agony while Honey literally pulled the larger boy the final several yards toward shore. The smaller boy was obviously not a very strong swimmer, and Brian had an easier time of it.

  ”They’re going to make it!” Trixie exclaimed finally. ”Loyola, can you give them a hand? I’ll be back in a second with some dry things for Honey and Brian. Oh, woe, poor Brian....” Without waiting for a reply, Trixie whirled around and raced for the jalopy. She gathered up all of their jackets and sweatshirts, and she found several beach towels Brian had tucked away.

  When she got back to the riverbank, four soaked figures had collapsed on the rocks and were catching their breath. Trixie’s eyes went first to Brian. His lips were blue, and his teeth were chattering, but he didn’t seem to be concerned about himself. He had an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders.

  ”Now, Carl,” he was saying gently, ”you really should be wearing a life jacket when you go sailing. That river current is a lot stronger than you are.”

  Carl nodded and stared down at his bare feet. ”I—I was eating a sandwich,” he mumbled. ”It went overboard—”

  ”Brian, take off your shirt,” Trixie interrupted. ”Here, dry yourself off with this towel and put on your sweatshirt.”

  ”I’m not the only wet one around here,” said Brian. He indicated Honey, who was wringing out her honey-blond hair. ”It’s a good thing it’s such a warm day, or Honey’d get pneumonia waiting for you to get around to her.”

  Trixie hurried over to her wet friend, put a towel around Honey’s shoulders, and gave her a hug at the same time. ”Oh, Honey, I’m a real dunce. How are you? And you, boys, are you all right?” She handed each of them a towel.

  Ken, who appeared to be about eleven, nodded gratefully. ”I feel kind of dumb,” he began.

  ”Well, it wasn’t exactly a stroke of genius to go for a swim right after eating,” Brian said. ”Not that your swim was intentional, but—what happened, anyway?”

  ”We were coming down from Haverstraw Bay,” said Ken. ”That’s where we live. And I guess I just wasn’t letting enough air out of the sails. Then the boat tipped over. That happens sometimes, you know,” he finished defensively.

&nb
sp; Brian stopped shivering and leaned forward to examine the boys. ”First of all,” he said, ”you should have had life jackets on that boat, and you should have been wearing them. Second, you shouldn’t be eating on the boat if there’s any chance you’re going to capsize. And third, if you do capsize, hang on to your boat. Don’t let it get out of your reach! Can you remember that?”

  ”That’s what we were trying to do,” complained Carl. ”But you dragged us away!”

  ”Our dad is going to kill us,” Ken muttered.

  ”That’s my fourth point,” said Brian sternly. ”If people are trying to rescue you, don’t resist them. A boat can always be replaced, but human beings can’t. I saw you from shore, and you were already way out of reach of your boat by the time Honey and I jumped in. You should have trusted us. It’s a lucky thing all four of us didn’t drown.”

  The two freckled towheads were silent.

  ”And fifth,” Brian went on, ”I think you boys are due for some sailing lessons. You don’t seem to know much about slacking off, which is one of the basic maneuvers in sailing.”

  Brian launched into a detailed lecture on proper sailing techniques, completely commanding the two boys’ attention. Trixie and Honey also gazed at him, full of admiration. Loyola had disappeared in the direction of the car.

  Jeepers, is Brian ever going to make a super doctor, Trixie was thinking. I wonder if he’s thought about becoming a ped—pedia—doctor for children. He’s got those kids wrapped around his finger....

  As lost in thought as she was, it was still Trixie who first noticed the small houseboat cruising toward them around a bend in the cliff. Across its side, The Kruller II was spelled out in bold black letters. Trixie jumped up and pointed excitedly. Directly behind the houseboat, attached to it with a rope, was the Quarter Moon, right side up and as cute as ever.

  ”Hurray!” Carl squeaked. He and Ken scampered down to the water’s edge.

  Brian sighed but also looked pleased. ”Let’s hope they know more what they’re doing this time,” he said to Trixie and Honey.

  The houseboat drifted in closer to shore. Suddenly a white-bearded figure appeared in the bow. Trixie gasped.

  ”So that’s where Bunker disappeared to!” she murmured. To the others she said, ”That’s Bunker, the man I was talking to up the cliff. He’s a—well, I guess he must be what he said he is—a commercial fisherman.”

  Bunker waved when he caught sight of Trixie. ”Bet you think I’m pretty dim-witted, little lady,” he shouted. ”By the time I caught on to what you were saying about those two boys and their boat, there wasn’t time for me to explain that I was going to fetch my boat and see if I could help them.”

  ” ’Little lady?’ ” Brian muttered, grinning. Trixie felt herself blush and hoped that Bunker couldn’t see it. ”That’s what he calls me,” she said. ”And don’t you dare pick up the habit,

  Brian Belden!” To Bunker, she yelled, ”You’re not dim-witted at all—you’re a hero!”

  ”Come on, boys,” Bunker was saying. He maneuvered the catboat so that it was barely a few feet from shore. Then he threw the boys a couple of flotation cushions.

  The boys slipped into the water and started to wade out.

  ”You’re sure you’re all right?” Brian called anxiously.

  The boys waved vigorously at the Bob-Whites and shouted their thanks.

  ”Maybe my dad will send you a reward!” Ken yelled to Brian.

  I won’t hold my breath,” Brian dryly remarked to the girls.

  ”By the time they get home,” said Trixie, ”they’ll probably have the story switched around so that they were the ones who rescued us. ”

  Seemed to me you were the one giving the orders, not doing the rescuing,” Honey teased.

  Jeepers, it’s a good thing someone was paying attention—what with your nose buried in a book, and Brian’s buried in specimens!” Trixie turned back to smile at Bunker. She felt terrible about having misinterpreted his behavior. ”Why Kruller?” she called.

  ”Eh?”

  ”Why did you name your boat the Kruller, instead of the Bunker, or something?”

  Bunker was near enough by this time for Trixie to see his saddened expression. ”Lawrence Krull was my fishing partner—and my best friend, too,” he answered. ”I named it after him.”

  To Trixie, the obvious next question was, what had happened to the first Kruller? She didn’t have to ask.

  ”Krull went down with our first boat right here in the Hudson about two years ago,” he went on.

  ”Oh, I’m sorry,” said Trixie.

  Bunker shrugged. ”He left me everything he owned. Sort of a joke, I guess! What little there was I used to buy this houseboat.” Bunker’s attention was diverted to the boys, who were climbing aboard their catboat. ”Now, little fellows, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to tow your boat for a bit, just to make sure you get off to a good start.”

  He and the boys waved good-bye again, and in another minute, they were out of the Bob-Whites’ hearing.

  Trixie squeezed Brian’s arm. ”You sounded so —so professional when you were talking to those kids, Brian.”

  ”Well, it’s plain they’re not used to following anyone’s advice,” said Brian.

  ”I think what you told them definitely made an impression,” said Honey. ”You have á way of letting people know you really care. I’ll bet your future patients are going to follow your instructions right down to the letter.”

  ”If they can read his handwriting,” Trixie teased. ”Aren’t doctors supposed to have terrible handwriting?” Seeing Brian’s uncomfortable expression, she added hastily, ”How are you feeling? Boy, wait till Dr. Ferris hears about how you’re taking care of yourself!”

  ”I’ll be happy if he just finds out what poisoned me in the first place,” said Brian. ”Actually, I feel pretty good, sitting here in the sun. How about you, Honey? I’m starving, though. There’s nothing like a good, brisk swim to stimulate my appetite!”

  ”I was ravenous before we. even got in the water,” Honey admitted.

  ”Well, what are you waiting for?” came a low voice from behind them. ”Dig in!”

  The Bob-Whites spun around with shouts of glee: ”Loyola!”

  ”You shouldn’t have!”

  ”You should have!”

  ”We’re so glad you did!”

  A red-checked tablecloth was spread out on the ground in a sunny, inviting spot. Somehow, Loyola had quietly set out a picnic feast for the others. There were containers of fresh lemonade, thick turkey and lettuce sandwiches, a bag full of pears and oranges, and a large plastic bowl of Loyola’s specialty—Waldorf salad.

  Within seconds, the young people had made themselves comfortable and were happily munching sandwiches.

  Honey sipped her lemonade and sighed, ”What a perfectly perfect place for a picnic.” Trixie gazed around at the autumn trees, the chalky cliffs, the blue green water. ”It is beautiful here, along the river. I’ve heard there used to be a whole group of artists here called the Hudson River School,” she said, reaching for a second helping of Waldorf salad.

  ”I remember Di telling me about that,” said Brian. ”That existed in the last century, right? Di said it was the first group of Americans to develop a distinct type of landscape painting.” Trixie nodded. ”And they painted the very same scenes and farms and fishermen and everything we see every day. Just looking at the river sometimes really makes me wish I could paint.”

  ”You can’t do everything,” Honey told her. To Loyola she said, ”This is certainly good Waldorf salad. It’s so crunchy!”

  ”Thank you,” said Loyola, pleased. ”That’s what my grandfather says, too. I must say I don’t care for it that much myself. I’ve never been that crazy about apples, I guess.”

  ”What else do you put in it?” Honey asked politely.

  ”Well, I’m getting more interested in natural foods these days. In this salad, for example, I used organic celery and grapes
—”

  ”Organic?” Honey repeated.

  ”That means they’re grown without using any chemical fertilizers or pesticides, only fertilizers of plant or animal origin.”

  ”Thought you were going to be a chemistry major,” Trixie tittered. ”Seems weird that you wouldn’t like chemicals!”

  ”I plan to major in marine biology,” Loyola said a little coolly. ”And many people, even some scientists, believe that artificial chemicals don’t belong in food for humans. Anyway, the salad also contains whole shelled walnuts and a mayonnaise with a base of safflower oil. Then, at the last minute I take whole apples and simply cut them up and throw them in. Brian, would you like some more? You’ve only had three helpings so far!”

  ”Sure, let’s make it an even four,” said Brian, helping himself. ”How did such a good thing get stuck with a name like Waldorf, anyway?”

  ”Oh, I know the answer to that,” Honey said.

  ”It’s named after the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York City. I think one of their chefs invented it. I ate there with Mother and Dad once.”

  ”Well, la-di-da,” kidded Brian.

  Honey flushed but began a good-humored retort.

  Ordinarily, Trixie would have joined in teasing Honey about her wealthy background. At the moment, though, certain facts were filing through her mental computer. She tuned out on the others’ conversation completely, trying to concentrate on something she recalled only vaguely... something she had read... in a hurry. As her mind sifted through the data, Trixie felt the blood rush to her face in a burst of emotion.

  Finally, something clicked. Too overwhelmed by strong feelings to really think things through, Trixie turned to Loyola. ”Why are you poisoning my brother?” she blurted. ”Because he’s too much c-competition?”

  Sharks Again! • 10

  LOYOLA BURST INTO TEARS.

  ”Trixie!” Brian exploded. ”Have you gone nuts or something? That’s a mean, rotten thing to say!”

  ”Trixie, what on earth are you thinking of?” Honey demanded shrilly.