The Gatehouse Mystery

darn, Trixie."
    "Don't be silly," Trixie said. "I was only joking. We don't have to start earning money this weekend, do we, Mart?"
    He swung the cottage door back and forth on its rusty hinges. "The sooner we start, the sooner we can turn this ramshackle place into a decent clubhouse."
    "True, true," Trixie said impatiently. "But if we want to keep on the good side of Regan, we'd better exercise the horses before it gets too hot. We won't be able to ride this evening; not if we're going to the movies."
    "That's right," Honey said. "And Jim must have had enough of gear-shifting by now. Let's all go for a ride and discuss plans for getting our clubhouse into shape." Up at the stable, they found Jim and Brian waiting for them. "Oh, for the feel of solid reins in my hands again," Jim said ruefully. "And stirrups for my aching feet. I wouldn't be a chauffeur if you paid me."
    "We don't want you to get paid for that" Mart said, grinning. "How do your aching hands and feet feel about farming on a small scale? A vegetable garden for your very own?"
    "Lead me to it," Jim said, brightening. "Anything to get away from the smell of gasoline."
    Mart explained while they rode through the woods. "We'll need at least fifteen dollars to make the cottage rainproof," he finished. "There are three of us boys. Do you think Miss Trask would pay us what Dad pays Trix, Jim? Five dollars a week for keeping the lawns and the vegetable garden out of Nailor's hair?"
    "I know she would," Jim said. "It would be worth more than fifteen dollars a week to keep Nailor happy. I think Miss Trask herself would resign if she had to try to find another gardener. And Nailor is complaining about the work."
    Honey nodded. "I heard him grumbling to Miss Trask this morning. I got the idea that he likes working with the flowers and shrubs but is slightly allergic to lawns and vegetables."
    "This job business," Jim said, "is the best idea anyone ever had. I've been on vacation too long now. But, Mart, since you're the one who's going to agricultural college, wouldn't you like to take over the vegetables?"
    "But how about you, Jim?" Mart asked. "You spent a lot of your life on a farm, didn't you?"
    Jim nodded. "I can also mow lawns. Which job do you prefer, Mart?"
    "Gee, Jim," Mart cried, "you know I like to grub around with vegetables. My fingers itch to get out there with a hoe and hill up your potatoes."
    "Then it's settled," Jim said. "Take your itching fingers to the vegetable garden whenever you feel like it."
    "Charity begins at home," Trixie said. "Our own potatoes will need hoeing soon again."
    "That's your job," Mart said airily. "I wouldn't think of doing you out of it."
    "Thanks," Trixie said. She giggled. "I can't help thinking it's funny: Jim has half a million dollars in stocks and bonds, and yet he's going to mow lawns for five dollars a week."
    "It's not funny at all," Jim told her. "You know perfectly well I'm not going to touch a cent of the money I inherited until I'm ready to start my boys' school." He flicked a deerfly from Jupe's glossy, black neck. "And as for Honey, it's great that she's going to have a chance to earn some money."
    "I'm so excited I won't be able to thread a needle when the time comes," Honey said. "Do you really think your mother will hire me, Trixie?"
    "I'll let you in on a little secret," Trixie said, chuckling. "Moms likes to sew and knit, but she does not like to mend. Especially during the canning season. Monday is her birthday. The nicest present Dad could give her would be you for the next few weeks. I'm going to call him up and suggest it when we get back."
    " Brother!" Mart yelled. "Monday is Moms's birthday. I haven't bought her a thing. Have you, Brian?"
    "No," Brian admitted. "But Trixie has a plan. You know how Moms hates to have us spend our hard-earned cash on presents for her."
    "That's right," Trixie said. "So, from now until school starts, I thought we'd take turns doing all the cooking. You learned how at camp, and, when I make up my mind to it, I'm not too bad myself."
    Mart chortled. "Let's not have broiled tomatoes every meal you cook. Honey must teach you how to make waffles." He patted Trixie's cheek affectionately. "All kidding aside, Trixie, that's a great idea. You can fix breakfast, I'll do lunch, and Brian can cook supper. He does something to spareribs that makes my mouth water. We'll have them every night. They're cheap."
    "I wish I could do something like that for my mother," Honey said