He paused, thoroughly enjoying his use of big words, which he could pronounce but never spell.
“I prognosticate,” he droned on, “that we are not going to sojourn at Owasco Lake, after all. It appears that we have had our collective arm twisted. We will instead peregrinate to the Catskills to visit Miss Trask’s brother, who is, it seems, an innkeeper.”
Trixie giggled. “You’re right, and wasn’t that something? None of us knew Miss Trask even had a brother—”
“Quiet, squaw!” Mart thundered. “I am not finished. Now, where was I? Oh, yes! Can it be that my pea-brained sister seriously expects to ascertain the solution to an ancient mystery? And can the aforesaid mystery have anything to do with an evanescent pirate? If so, I can tell her right now how the mystifying deed was done.” Trixie was startled. “You can?”
“Sure,” Mart said in his normal voice. He opened his eyes and grinned at her. “The answer’s very simple. The old captain covered himself all over with vanishing cream and became invisible.”
“Oh, Mart!” Trixie exclaimed, trying not to laugh. “I suppose Honey called you.”
“Nope, it was Jim,” Mart said. He opened the big old refrigerator and gazed affectionately at its contents.
Brian ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “Jim told us everything,” he said. “But whatever happened to not listening to any arguments? What happened to standing firm, no matter what? I thought you guys finally decided to give Miss Trask some time to herself.”
“Yes, but—” Trixie began.
“I know what it was,” Mart said over his shoulder. “Trixie’s been reading one of her dumb spy novels again. What’s the woman’s name who writes those silly things? Lucy Snodgrass?” Trixie’s face flamed red with indignation. “Her name is Lucy Radcliffe. And she does not write dumb novels. She’s only eighteen years old, but she’s had so many wonderful adventures. She’s been all over the world in the service of her country, and—”
Mart threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Only eighteen years old, eh? Take it from me, O squaw, that author’s had so much happen to her that I’d guess she’s seventy years old if she’s a day. What’s more, I’ll bet she has a bit of a mustache.”
Trixie swallowed hard. “She doesn’t have anything of the kind,” she declared loyally. “Lucy is a tall, willowy redhead with a peaches-and-cream complexion. She always describes herself in her books. That’s how I know.”
“All I know,” Mart said, “is that you’ve been just itching for some new adventure recently, Trix. Just like Lucy Snodgrass—”
“Radcliffe,” Trixie said, between her teeth.
“And that’s the real reason you decided the Bob-Whites are going to the Catskills instead of staying home,” Mart finished smoothly. He turned toward the table, his hands holding the remains of an apple pie.
All at once, Trixie blinked back hot tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. In the past few days, she had found Mart’s teasing to be almost unbearable. She found herself wondering whether Miss Trask had ever been forced to endure similar torture. It was certainly strange that she had never before mentioned her brother to any of them.
“Oh, Mart,” she exclaimed, her voice trembling, “it wasn’t like that at all. The real reason we agreed to go with Miss Trask was that I had a sudden feeling that she needed us.”
“I’ll bet,” Mart said sarcastically.
“Knock it off, Mart!” Brian said quickly.
But it was too late. Mart seemed to be too enchanted with the sound of his own voice to stop now. “I can see it all,” he announced. “Trixie Teenybopper is simply yearning for adventure, just like her fictional heroine—she of the bee-yoo-tiful complexion—”
Trixie was suddenly furious. “My Lucy books are no dumber than those Cosmo McNaught science-fiction things you’re always reading.”
“It’s not the same thing at all,” Mart drawled, cutting himself a huge wedge of pie. “Cosmo is a superlative writer, and moreover, he’s not covered with adolescent zits.”
Trixie could feel the hot tears gathering behind her eyelids. She swallowed hard. I won’t let Mart make me cry, she told herself. I just won’t! All the same, she knew she was going to have to run to the blessed privacy of her own room—and soon.
“I’m going to bed,” she said abruptly. “And by the way, you needn’t worry about tomorrow’s arrangements, either of you. Dad, Moms, and the other Bob-Whites have already been told about the plans for the trip.”
“Thank you, ‘Lucy’ Belden—” Mart began. Reddy raised his head in sleepy outrage as Brian suddenly rose to his feet and shoved his chair roughly toward the table. “Sometimes, Mart,” he said, “you go too far. And Trixie’s right! I don’t think that Lucy Radcliffe’s Adventure in Paris is one bit sillier than Cosmo Mc-Naught’s Journey to the Crab Nebula.”
Mart flushed at the unaccustomed criticism from his older brother. “It’s not the same thing at all,” he mumbled.
Trixie was already halfway out the door. But she was gratified to hear Brian add, “And one other thing, Mart—if I were you, I wouldn’t be quite so quick to poke fun at Trixie’s sudden hunches. If you’ll think back, you’ll realize they’re usually right!”
During school the next morning, Trixie tried hard to forget her quarrel with Mart. She kept telling herself that he hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. All the same, she found it difficult to concentrate on her lessons. Several times, when she should have been studying, she found herself, instead, staring miserably out of the window.
By lunchtime, her spirits were so low that she was even wishing she could stay home, after all.
No one seemed to notice her long face, however, when she hurried into the noisy cafeteria. Brian and Jim, dressed in white caps and aprons, were on duty that day. At the moment, though, they were seated at a table with the other Bob-Whites. They were snatching a few moments to make sure everyone understood the final arrangements. Trixie stood still, listening to them.
“All right,” Jim was saying, raising his voice over the excited chatter going on around him. “Is everything clear? The station wagon is already loaded and ready to go. Miss Trask will drive it here and meet us outside, right after school. Okay?”
Trixie thought of the Bob-Whites’ station wagon, of which they each owned exactly a one-seventh share. She also thought of her small weekend case, which the boys had placed inside it earlier that morning. Besides her clothes, the case contained the latest Lucy Radcliffe spy thriller. Trixie had packed it while Mart wasn’t looking. Now she wished she hadn’t. She didn’t care if she never ever read another Lucy Radcliffe adventure.
Dan Mangan solemnly nodded his dark head. “How long will it take us to get to Pirate’s Point?” he asked.
“Miss Trask says it’ll take us less than two hours,” Honey told him. “Apparently it’s not all that far away.”
“Well, it all sounds perfectly perfect to me,” declared Di Lynch, her violet eyes shining. With the curtain of long, dark hair that framed her pretty face, she was, Trixie always thought, the best-looking girl in the ninth grade.
“Just think,” Di continued. “We’re going to an old inn, and already there’s a mystery for Trixie to solve—”
“And what else could we wish for?” Honey added happily.
Trixie could think of something else to wish for, but she bit back the reply that sprang to her lips. She looked bitterly across at Mart, but he avoided her eye.
“I have to admit,” Dan said, “that our trip today sounds almost too good to be true. I still can’t believe I’ve got this whole weekend off. I keep on feeling I should be back home, helping with the chores.”
Trixie remembered the time when Dan had not been the happy boy he was today. Once he had lived in the city. There he had gotten in with the wrong crowd; then his uncle, Bill Regan, had brought him to Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson. Now Dari lived and worked with the Wheelers’ gamekeeper, Mr. Maypenny.
“All right, then,”
Brian said briskly. “Everything’s all set. Are there any more questions?” Mart rose slowly to his feet. “I’ve got a question to ask,” he said. “It’s kind of important.“
“Come on, then! Out with it!” Brian exclaimed impatiently.
Mart hesitated as he looked up at last and caught Trixie’s eye. She held her breath when she saw the sheepish look on his face.
Why, she thought with astonishment, I do believe my almost-twin is sorry about our quarrel last night. He’s going to ask me to forgive him for being so mean.
At that moment, however, Jerry Vanderhoef, at the next table, leaned toward them. “For crying out loud, Belden!” he yelled. “What’s the question? My friends and I can’t wait to hear it.” He waved a casual hand at the group of grinning students who were just taking their places around him.
At first, Mart stiffened. Then the expression on his face changed as he grinned back at them. “Never let it be said that Mart the Magnificent would disappoint an audience,” he answered, with a sweeping bow. “This is the question: You’re standing in a house. There are windows on all four sides of it. Every window faces south. Suddenly, a bear walks by. What color is the bear?”
Jerry looked incredulous. “That’s it? That’s the important question?”
“Sure,” Mart answered. “What else would it be?” Then he hurried away to join the food line.
Di chuckled. “Oh, that Mart! He’s always clowning around. What color was the bear, anyway?”
“Don’t look at me,” Dan said, backing away in mock horror. “I don’t have any idea.”
“Me, either,” Honey added. “Riddles never were my best subject.”
“In that case,” Jim said, smiling, “I guess we’ve just found another puzzle for Trixie, to solve. You know, gang, if it weren’t for our female sleuth here, we wouldn’t have half the fun we do.”
Suddenly Trixie felt better as she smiled back at her loyal friends. As her spirits lifted, she made herself a silent promise. In the days to come, she would do her best not to get so upset at Mart’s teasing.
Meanwhile, there was much to look forward to. It was Friday. It was a beautiful day. She was about to leave on an exciting trip. And she had a brand-new Lucy Radcliffe adventure to read.
Honey slipped her hand through her friend’s arm. “Trix,” she said, “do you know what color the bear was?”
Trixie grinned at her. “Nope,” she said cheerfully, “I haven’t the foggiest notion. But I’ll tell you one thing, Honey. I’ll figure it out if it’s the last thing I do!”
She sighed happily. Di was right. It was going to be a perfectly perfect weekend, after all—she hoped.
Mart’s Ghost ● 3
AFTER THAT, everything seemed to go better for Trixie. Once lunch was over, the minutes seemed to fly by. When the last bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Trixie could hardly credit her own good luck. Her teachers had given her no weekend homework.
“I simply don’t believe it,” Trixie told Honey as the two girls hurried through the school’s large front doors. “No math, no English composition, no anything!”
Honey chuckled and squeezed her arm. “So the only things you’ve got to worry about are vanishing pirates and wandering bears.”
“I’ve been thinking about that pirate story,” Trixie said thoughtfully. “Do you suppose Miss Trask made it up just to get us to go with her?“
“No, I don’t,” Honey answered promptly. “She told Jim and me about it again last night, after you’d gone home. Apparently, the legend is well known in the area of Pirate’s Point. Miss Trask says it’s been a real tourist attraction over the years. People who come to the inn are always determined to solve the puzzle.”
“But so far nobody has?”
“Miss Trask doesn’t know of anyone,” Honey said slowly. “But you know, Trix, it’s a funny thing. I have an idea she hasn’t visited there in a long time. What’s more, she didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I don’t know why.”
Trixie didn’t know why, either. As she ran to the station wagon moments later, she glanced sharply at Miss Trask, hoping to be able to detect something from her manner. But Miss Trask appeared to be as brisk and efficient as ever. Her face wore the same kindly expression it always did, and Trixie learned nothing.
“All set, girls?” Miss Trask asked, smiling from her seat behind the wheel. “Of course, I’m sure you’ve been ready ever since school started this morning. As soon as the others get here, we can be on our way.” She chuckled. “The boys have actually agreed to let me drive, since I know the way. Wasn’t that nice of them?”
Still smiling and talking, she watched while Trixie and Honey made themselves comfortable beside her. Then she waited patiently until, one by one, the rest of the Bob-Whites arrived.
There was the usual confusion concerning who was going to sit where. Finally, Mart and Dan settled the argument by scrambling to the back of the wagon. There they stuck their legs out in front of them and beamed triumphantly, while Di, Brian, and Jim climbed into the remaining seats.
Through all the excitement, Miss Trask smiled serenely. It was as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
There was, Trixie was beginning to discover, more to Miss Trask than met the eye.
There was no mystery concerning Miss Trask’s abilities as a driver, however. They were excellent, as the Bob-Whites already knew. Under her expert handling, the station wagon was soon moving smoothly along the highway, and before long, they had left Sleepyside far behind them.
“Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of pop!” Mart sang out suddenly, breaking a long silence. “Pirate’s Inn, here we come! I don’t know about you guys, but I find the suspense absolutely excruciating!”
“What suspense?” Di asked.
“Aha, me fair beauty,” Mart said, stroking an imaginary mustache, “you may well ask. The suspense concerns—” he paused dramatically— “the ghost of Captain Trask.”
Dan frowned. “I didn’t know the inn was supposed to have a ghost.”
“Oh, I haven’t heard that it does,” Mart answered cheerfully. “But if it doesn’t now, it soon will have. You see, I’ve given the matter a lot of thought. And I’ve figured out a way to solve, once and for all, the mystery of the old captain’s disappearance.”
Brian sighed heavily. “I know I’m going to get a silly answer,” he said, “but then, I’m going to ask a silly question. How are you going to solve the mystery, O All-Knowing One?”
“First we must summon the captain’s ghost from its watery grave,” Mart answered. “Then we’ll give him the third degree. You know— we’ve seen it done in the late-night movies lots of times. We’ll simply sit him down, shine a light into his ghostly eyes, and interrogate him relentlessly. ‘Where were you when the dastardly deed was done?’ we’ll demand to know. Take my word for it. It can’t fail.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mart,” Miss Trask remarked, with a twinkle in her eye, “but
I just don’t think that will work. For one thing, I’m afraid the captain didn’t go to a watery grave. I seem to remember hearing that he died in bed. For another, he was in Jamaica at the time. I must say, though, it’s nice to hear your voice at last. You’ve been so quiet for so long that I wondered if you were still with us.”
“Oh, he’s still with us,” Trixie couldn’t resist saying. “He’s just been suffering from a condition known as severe guilty conscience.”
She knew it was a mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She tried to think of some way to take them back, but it was too late.
Di giggled. “Why, Mart! Do you have a guilty conscience?”
“Yes, Mart,” Dan added, “tell us about it. What did you do?”
“Hold it,” Mart said. “I do not have a guilty conscience. My little sister is just mad because she doesn’t know the answer to my bear riddle. I don’t know why she’s so upset—even her beloved Lucy Snodgrass couldn’t solve that mystery. But Trixie always gets a bit pee
vish when she’s frustrated.”
In an instant, Trixie forgot all the promises she had made to herself. Furious, she turned and glared at her brother and tried desperately to think of a crushing reply.
Before she could, however, Brian asked hastily, “Is there a ghost at the inn, Miss Trask?” There was a long pause. Then, to Trixie’s astonishment, Miss Trask answered slowly, “To be honest, Brian, I don’t really know. You see, my brother, Frank, has made so many changes....” Trixie promptly forgot everything she had been about to say to her almost-twin. She was too busy puzzling over this last remark.
What a peculiar thing for Miss Trask to say! Trixie thought. Why couldn’t she answer Brian’s question? Surely it had been simple enough. Was there or wasn’t there a ghost at the inn? And what did Miss Trask’s brother have to do with it, anyway?
Trixie sighed. “There are times,” she said softly to Honey, “when I don’t think there are nearly enough answers in the whole wide world to satisfy my curiosity.”
“Be patient, Trix,” Honey told her.
“I’ve never been any good at being patient,” Trixie confessed. “I hate having to sit and wait for things to happen.”
“I know,” Honey answered, remembering how hard Trixie had worked to solve the many mysteries they had been involved in.
“Oh, Honey!” Trixie exclaimed. “There are times when I wish I hadn’t been born with such an inquis—inquis—nosy mind. Why do you suppose I was?”
But to that question, Honey was sure there was no answer at all.
As the Bob-Whites neared their destination, they saw the beautiful Catskill Mountains loom before them. Trixie caught her breath as the station wagon turned into a graveled driveway. They had arrived at last at Pirate’s Inn.
Set back from a cliff overlooking the wide Hudson River, the old two-story building was everything she’d hoped it would be.
The Mystery of the Ghostly Galeon Page 2