Miss Trask smiled at the circle of concerned young faces around her. “There certainly is,” she said briskly. “You can go and enjoy yourselves until it’s time to eat again. As I expect you’ve guessed, Gaston is back in his kitchen, so that’s one thing less to trouble us.”
“We came to ask you if we could see the real portrait of Captain Trask,” Trixie said.
“You could if I knew where it was,” Miss Trask answered promptly. “It’s funny that you should ask. I’ve looked for it myself, but I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Things do seem to have a peculiar habit of disappearing around here,” Trixie said without thinking.
“What a dumb thing to say!” Mart exclaimed when they had left the room.
“It really was,” Brian agreed. “Miss Trask was already upset. You might not help thinking such a thing, but you didn’t have to say it.”
Trixie knew that Mart and Brian were still angry with her as the Bob-Whites discussed what they were going to do for the rest of the morning. They ignored her suggestion that they should try searching again for either Mr. Trask or the missing money.
“Now that the police are on the job,” Brian said, “they won’t want a bunch of amateurs like us getting in their way.”
In the end, the Bob-Whites spent the balance of that Saturday morning exploring the little town of Pirate’s Point. They wandered along the main street, with its rows of quaint little stores and small houses with pocket-handkerchief-sized front yards.
If Trixie had not been worried about what they would find when they returned to the inn, she might have enjoyed the visit. As it was, she couldn’t shake off her conviction that something more was about to happen—and soon.
One anxious glance at Miss Trask’s face, when at last they returned, did nothing to reassure her.
“No,” Miss Trask said, trying to smile as she met them at the front door, “there’s no news of my brother. The police are still making inquiries, but—” she bit her lip—“they seem to feel that he’s disappeared as some sort of publicity stunt.” Trixie stared. “But why would he do that?“
“I’m afraid it was something one of the waiters said that gave them the idea,” Miss Trask answered. “I believe it’s quite true that Frank has thought up a lot of ideas recently to promote Pirate’s Inn.”
“I’ll bet it was Weasel Willis who told the police it was just a publicity stunt,” Trixie told Honey and Di later, as they trudged upstairs after lunch.
“But maybe he’s right, Trix,” Di said.
Trixie hoped with all her heart that he was. “All the same,” she said, “I can’t help thinking that if we could only solve that other disappearance—the one where Captain Trask vanished—it might help us figure out what happened last night. When the lunch rush is over, let’s search the dining room again.”
Honey groaned. “Oh, no! I don’t think I could stand it.”
“Me, either,” Di announced. “And there isn’t anything you can say that will make me change my mind, Trixie.”
Thirty minutes later, the three girls were on their hands and knees under the captain’s table, searching for a secret trapdoor.
Suddenly a familiar voice drawled, “My, my! And what have we here? I was going to say that great minds think alike, except I know one of them is a pea-brain.”
Trixie stuck out her head and glared up at Mart. Brian, Jim, and Dan stood behind him.
“Pea-brain yourself!” Trixie snapped, her cheeks red. “And what are you doing here? Don’t tell me; I can guess. You’re here to find out about the disappearing trick. Don’t bother to deny it.“
“But I don’t have to find out about it,” Mart drawled in an infuriatingly smug voice. “You see, I know how it was done.”
Honey gasped and scrambled to her feet. “You do? You really do?”
“Of course he doesn’t.” Trixie was scornful. “He’s just showing off.”
“Now, Trix,” Di said, crawling out from under the table, “you don’t mean that.”
Mart flushed. “Yes, she does. And just for that, I won’t say another word. Go ahead and figure it out for yourself, little sister. I tell you I know how Captain Trask must have vanished. You would, too, if you stopped to think about it.” He flung himself into the nearest chair, crossed his arms, and closed his mouth tightly.
“For crying out loud, you two,” Brian said, sighing deeply, “why can’t you get along?”
“Mart was just about to show us how it was done,” Dan told Trixie.
“Oh, who needs him,” Trixie said, turning away impatiently. “If he can figure it out, we can, too. All we have to do is find the secret trapdoor—”
“Wrong,” Mart sang out.
“Or a hidden passage,” Trixie went on, ignoring him.
“Wrong again,” Mart said, forgetting his vow of silence. “You’re not even close. For your information, Lucy Snodgrass, I’ve been asking around, and guess what I found out? This ancient domicile has been plagued periodically by the soft-bodied insect of the order Isoptera.” Trixie stared. “The what?”
“They’ve had termites,” Brian explained.
“But what has that got to do with anything?” Trixie cried. “Are you trying to tell us that Captain Trask was carried away by termites?”
Jim laughed. “I think Mart’s trying to tell us that because the floorboards were riddled with termites, they must have been replaced many times since the inn was first built. Maybe parts of the paneling were, too. Am I right?”
Trixie let out her breath in one long sigh. Of course he was right! Why hadn’t she thought of that? The Weasel had practically told her the same thing only yesterday, except that she hadn’t been paying attention.
“If the floorboards have been replaced,” Honey said, “and if the paneling has, too, then how come they’ve never found a secret passage?“
“Because there never was one to find,” Mart answered at once. “The captain didn’t disappear that way at all.”
“Then how did he do it?” Trixie asked.
At this point, Mart, suddenly remembering that he wasn’t talking to her, infuriatingly refused to say another word.
“It’s really quite simple,” a quiet voice said behind them. Trixie turned and saw sandy-haired Mr. Appleton smiling at them. “I came to find you to thank you all for rescuing Clarence last night,” he said. “Also, I thought I might find you here. The legend of the vanishing pirate really is a brainteaser, don’t you think?”
“But you know the answer?” Trixie asked.
Mr. Appleton chuckled. “Let’s say I think I know the answer. I suppose no one will ever really be sure about it.”
“I am,” Mart muttered. “It’s the oldest magic, trick in the book. I should have recognized it as soon as I heard the story.”
“The way the legend goes,” Mr. Appleton said, “is that the soldiers arrived and surrounded the table. But suppose Captain Trask already knew of his impending arrest. And suppose he made arrangements of his own.”
“Like what?” Dan asked.
“Like bribing the soldiers ahead of time,” Mr. Appleton answered promptly. “If it had been me, I’d have already arranged to have a soldier’s uniform handy. Or maybe had one of the soldiers bring one with him. Then, when I was about to be arrested, I’d have merely slipped it on over what I was wearing—”
“And the captain was in his shirt sleeves at the time,” Honey gasped.
“I get it,” Trixie breathed. “Then the captain merely joined the soldiers as they backed away from the table, and he just walked out of the inn with them. And that must be what Mr. Trask meant when he said he discovered the answer when he was looking at his own costume.”
She was still thinking about it when Mr. Appleton had gone.
“Is that the way you figured it out, Mart?” Di asked.
“It sure was,” Mart said. “It was the only way it could have happened.”
“But I was hoping it would help us figure out how Mr. Trask d
isappeared,” Trixie cried.
“It’s too bad it doesn’t,” Jim said later, as they stood outside the dining room. “But one thing’s certain, Trix. Mr. Appleton’s so clever at solving puzzles, you should have gotten him to help you with the other one.”
Trixie frowned. “What other one?”
Jim grinned. “What color was the bear?”
Trixie grinned back at him. “What three words are most used by morons?” she asked.
Jim stared. “I don’t know.”
“You’re right, Jim,” Trixie answered, giggling. “And I don’t know about the bear, either. But I will.”
All the same, she crossed her fingers. She knew she was going to need all the luck she could get— and not just with the bear.
More Worries • 17
AS THE DAY WORE ON, Trixie found herself growing more and more uneasy. Everyone guessed that Miss Trask was, too, though she did her best to hide it.
She had listened quietly to the Bob-Whites’ excited account of what must have happened to the wily old captain so many years before. She had congratulated them warmly on having solved the ancient mystery. Then she had urged them all to go and enjoy themselves.
“After all,” she said, “there’s nothing more we can do now except wait.”
Trixie had gone reluctantly with her friends to explore the surrounding countryside. Even an enchanting drive through parts of the beautiful Catskill Mountains had failed to arouse her interest, however.
It was dusk when the Bob-Whites returned to the inn. Trixie was glad to scramble out of the station wagon and run indoors, but in no time at all, she was back.
“There’s still no word from Mr. Trask,” she told her friends breathlessly. “Even the police seem to have given up. They still expect him to return in time to grab the headlines in tomorrow’s newspapers.”
“Yeah,” Dan said, climbing out of the car, “I can see it all now: HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF, SECOND MAN VANISHES FROM MYSTERIOUS INN.”
“There’s something we haven’t really thought of,” Trixie said slowly. “Just suppose Mr. Trask didn’t mean to vanish.”
Honey rolled down her window and stared up at her friend. “You mean, you think he’s been kidnapped?”
Trixie nodded. “Can you think of a better explanation for what’s happened?”
Mart clambered out of his seat and glared down at his sister. “Oh, for crying out loud, Trix! That’s the craziest thing I ever heard.”
Jim, at the wheel, frowned. “No, wait,” he said. “Let’s hear what Trixie has to say.”
“The whole thing just sounds so strange to me,” Trixie began. “We know that Mr. Trask was really looking forward to this weekend. He invited his sister here specially, didn’t he? We also know he’d borrowed a lot of money from wealthy Mr. Morgan, and he was about to pay it back.”
“But we don’t know that for sure,” Honey pointed out. “Some people think he doesn’t have the money to pay back.”
“But if he didn’t have it,” Trixie said carefully, “why did he invite his sister here to celebrate? I thought the whole idea was to show her what a success he’s made of the inn. We’ve seen for ourselves how popular it is.”
“And now that he’s set up the cave and the ship,” Di murmured thoughtfully, “it’ll be more of a tourist attraction than ever.”
“It’s so popular,” Jim said, “that one of the big hotel chains has been after Mr. Trask to sell out to them. They’re willing to pay plenty.”
“I didn’t know that, Jim!” Trixie cried.
“Gaston told me,” Jim explained.
“If that’s true,” Brian said, “then it might be to someone’s advantage to try to make Mr. Trask sell Pirate’s Inn.”
“Suppose,” Trixie answered, “that the hotel chain sent someone here. And suppose that someone tried to make trouble by—”
“By causing odd accidents during the summer,” Honey put in excitedly, “and setting a fire in a guest’s bedroom—”
“See?” Trixie said. “The idea’s not so crazy!” Dan was still frowning. “Even if all that’s true, it still doesn’t help us know what happened to Mr. Trask.”
“But what if the spy, or whoever it is who’s working for the hotel chain, managed to steal all of Mr. Trask’s money from Pirate’s Inn?” Trixie asked. “He tried to rob the place before, remember? And what if Mr. Trask had just found out who the thief was? He was about to tell us, when Mr. X—”
“Who’s Mr. X?” Mart interrupted.
“I’m coming to that,” Trixie said impatiently. “Mr. Trask was about to unmask the villain when he was kidnapped.”
“Here we go again,” Mart exclaimed. “It’s another Lucy Snodgrass plot. Anyway, Mr. Trask wasn’t about to unmask anybody. He was going to explain how Captain Trask disappeared. Then he was going to show us the galleon. I suppose you’ve already decided whom to accuse as Mr. X.
“Weasel Willis,” Trixie announced. “I’m certain of it. The hotel chain has paid him to cause trouble. And that’s just what he’s done. I think we ought to call the police.”
“And tell them what?” Mart asked.
“Tell them what we suspect, of course,” Trixie answered.
Brian was shaking his head. “It’s a nice theory, Trixie, but you can’t prove any of it. You don’t know that there really is any money missing. You don’t know that the hotel chain has been causing trouble. And you have no reason to suspect Weasel Willis of anything.”
“Jeepers!” Trixie exclaimed. “What more do you want?”
“Proof, Trix,” Dan said, joining Brian and Mart in the driveway.
Brian sighed and turned away. “I’m going to wash up for dinner,” he said. “How about you guys?”
While Jim parked the station wagon, Mart pulled a crumpled tissue from his pocket. Gravely he presented it to his frowning sister. “Don’t cry because we don’t like your theories, Trix,” he said solemnly. “Take this instead. It may not be good for the sniffles, but it will sure help soften the blow. ”
Trixie could hear him still laughing at his own joke as he and the other boys disappeared behind the doors to Pirate’s Inn.
“Oh, that Mart!” Trixie told Di. “Sometimes he makes me so mad!”
“Are you going to keep an eye on the Weasel?” Honey asked.
“I sure am,” Trixie said stubbornly. Then, when the three girls were in the lobby, she added, “I’m going to stick so close to him that he’ll think he’s grown an extra shadow.”
Just then the door to the office opened and upset all her plans.
Trixie stood as if frozen to the spot as she heard a man’s deep voice say, “Believe me, Marge, I’d do anything to help you and Frank. You know that. Why, we’ve known each other for too long for me to do anything else.”
Trixie could tell it was Mr. Morgan, who held the mortgage on the inn.
“Don’t be like that, Marge,” she heard him say. “I’d give you more time if I could, but it just isn’t possible. And it was Frank himself who set the deadline. Tonight at seven, he said, and that’s what was agreed on.”
“If only it weren’t such a very large amount of money,” Miss Trask said, “I might have been able to raise it from somewhere.” She paused, then continued briskly, “But that isn’t your problem. It’s mine now. I know that. It’s just that Pirate’s Inn has been in our family for so long—”
“Ah, Marge,” Mr. Morgan said from the door, “if only I were as rich as everyone thinks I am. As it is, I’ve had several investments go sour on me recently, and I really need the cash myself. Listen, you’ve still got an hour to come up with something.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late,” Miss Trask replied, her voice tight. “If you’ll come back at seven, I’ll be prepared then to hand over the deed.”
In another moment, the office door had closed firmly behind him, and Mr. Morgan stood staring at the three girls who were standing there.
“It’s sad,” he muttered to himself as he
hurried through the front door. “It’s really sad.”
“Oh, Trix,” Honey cried, truly realizing for the first time that Miss Trask was about to lose her childhood home, “isn’t there anything that we can do?”
“Yes,” Di added eagerly, “maybe I could phone my father—”
Honey was shaking her head. “Even if your dad or mine was willing to lend the money, Miss Trask is too proud to take it. Besides, we could never get the cash here in time. The deadline’s in an hour.”
“I’ll think of something,” Di announced. “What’s more, I’ll go and talk to the boys. Maybe they’ll have some ideas of their own.”
Honey watched her hurry upstairs, then she turned to say something to Trixie.
The words died on her lips. Her friend’s face wore such a strange expression. She looked dazed, almost as though she had been hit over the head.
“What is it?” Honey cried. “Oh, Trixie! Did you remember something?”
“It’s the craziest thing,” Trixie answered at last, “and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Oh, Honey, you’re never going to believe it! But I’ve just realized where we’re going to find Mr. Trask!”
Disaster! ● 18
TRIXIE DIDN’T STOP to explain. In the next instant, she was moving so fast that Honey had a hard time keeping up with her.
Outside the inn, Trixie stopped abruptly. The pale moon was just beginning to turn everything to silver.
For a moment, Honey thought her friend was going to chase after Mr. Morgan, who was just driving away. But Trixie had quite a different plan in mind.
Puzzled, Honey saw her flip the light switches by the front door and then race across the grass toward the edge of the cliff.
By the time Honey had reached her side, Trixie was staring down at the river. Even though Honey knew that the galleon was not a ghostly one after all, the sight of it still made her shiver. It glowed and shimmered in the water as if it were waiting to take phantom passengers to another world.
All at once, Honey frowned as she fixed her gaze on the proud figurehead on the ship’s bow. She could hardly believe her eyes. There was no question about it. The lady was crying. Mournful tears were rolling down her cheeks.
The Mystery of the Ghostly Galeon Page 11
