The Gatehouse Mystery

reasons," Mart said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Honey and Trix sort of cancel each other out, so it makes it almost bearable having a sister. That's how I feel."
    Trixie tossed her sandy curls as she stacked the paper plates. "If you're stuck with three brothers, you might as well have one more. And Honey and I have felt like sisters ever since we met; haven't we, Honey?"
    Honey nodded, her hazel eyes filmed with tears of happiness. "It's all like a dream coming true. I can't believe it! A secret club and—well, just everything I always wanted."
    When they had cleaned up the boathouse, Jim said, "The first favor I'm going to ask of my new brother, Brian, is a driving lesson. How about it?"
    "Swell," Brian said. "If you haven't mastered the art of gear-shifting in an hour, I'll chew Honey's swimming cap and blow bubbles with it." They hurried off up the path toward the garage.
    Mart stretched lazily. "Why do you suppose no one walked into our trap last night?" he asked. "From what I know about Jim, he would have been wide-awake if anyone had dropped a pin on the hall carpet outside the room. He's so used to taking care of himself, he's acquired the protective instincts of woods animals." Honey smiled. "Anyway, the alertness of them. No, if Jim heard nothing, no one tried to get into my old room last night."
    "Of course he didn't," Trixie said, leading the way up the hill. "I mean, Dick didn't, because he wasn't here, but here he comes now. That's his car, anyway."
    They stared at the green jalopy that was rattling along the driveway. It stopped near the garage and Dick got out.
    Trixie nudged Honey. "His black eye is better, but he's got the prettiest attack of poison ivy I've ever seen!"

"Leaflets Three" • 14

    OH, OH," Honey cried in a low voice. "I know what you mean, Trixie. If anyone was lurking around in the woods on Wednesday, he'd be sure to have a rash from the poison ivy by now."
    "Not necessarily," Mart said. "Not unless he's allergic. I'm not, for one. But our friend, Dick, obviously is. Bobby had better give him lessons on leaflets three, let it be.' " He chuckled. "If Trixie were not here, I would have said, avoid trifoliolate leaves. They may contain an irritating substance called urushiol."
    "Now you're talking like Brian, the medical man," Trixie moaned.
    "Exactly," Mart said. " 'Twas Brian who taught me that lingo. I tried to pass it along to the small fry at camp, but, no, even leaflets three' was over their dear little heads." He groaned, remembering.
    "I'd better go ask Miss Trask for some calamine lotion for Dick," Honey said. "The side of his face where he hasn't the black eye might swell up like anything. It looks puffy, right now."
    Regan came out of the garage and gave Dick one look. "For pete's sake," he said with a sigh. "Now what? You'd better go right back to your doc, Dick, and get some medicine. That rash on your face and hands is going to get a lot worse before it gets better."
    "Forget it," Dick growled. "I've had poison ivy before. It's nothing to get excited about."
    Regan's sandy eyebrows shot up. "But a black eye is, huh? Well, well. I learn something every day. Where did you get the shiner, fella?"
    "Jupe kicked him," Trixie said impudently. "And Jupe's hoof was contaminated because he had been galloping through the woods. It explains everything— even the poison ivy."
    Dick whirled to glare at her. "Fresh as paint, aren't you? Why don't you go home where you belong?"
    "Take it easy, Dick," Mart said, obviously control-, ling his temper with an effort. "It so happens that we Beldens were invited to spend the weekend up here."
    "It so happens," Regan went on hotly, "that the Beldens have been invited to spend all their spare time up here. If you, Dick, spent a little of your spare, or otherwise, time around here, it would help." He pointed toward the station wagon which was parked between the garage and stable. "Brian is giving Jim a lesson in gear-shifting at the moment. I got the impression that that was your job."
    Immediately the disagreeable expression on Dick's face faded. "Gee, I'm sorry about that," he said, almost contritely. "Jim's a good kid. I'll give him a driving lesson right away."
    "Oh, no, you won't," Regan corrected him. "You'll get right into uniform. Miss Trask is about ready to go in and do the weekend shopping. When you get back, it'll be time to take Winnie, the laundress, home. Then you have to have lunch. After that you drive Helen home. She has the