The Hudson River Mystery

back to explore that cave the very next afternoon.

    Sunday proved to be another glorious day of Indian summer. True to his word, by noon Brian was ready for a full afternoon’s work down at Killifish Point. He was in good spirits and didn’t mind in the least when Trixie invited herself and Honey along on the trip. The three Bob-Whites first drove into town to pick up Loyola, who had packed an enormous picnic lunch to celebrate the return of Brian’s health. Then the four young people drove to Killifish Point. It was such a warm day that they left their jackets in Brian’s jalopy.
    After establishing a central meeting place, Brian and Loyola were soon off on their way down the shore, collecting and labeling specimens. Honey had brought along a library book to read. So far, Honey was the only one Trixie had told about what she had seen in the cave. Trixie had more than a sneaking suspicion that Honey wouldn’t advise returning to it, so she didn’t waste her energy trying to talk Honey into accompanying her.
    Instead, Trixie mumbled something about taking a walk and then disappeared. Once again, she felt ready for adventure as she made her way toward the cave. She had brought along an old pair of gloves to protect her hands, and she had tucked a flashlight into her pocket. She wanted to get a better look at that pit and to see if there was any way of getting around it.
    Now that she knew the route, it didn’t take her as long to reach the cave. She was glad, because she wanted to get back before the others began to think she was in trouble.
    Trixie charged into the cave, flashlight in hand. It seemed to her that there weren’t as many fish in the tubs as there had been the previous day, although she couldn’t be sure. She looked anxiously all around her before proceeding farther into the cave.
    She was crouching in front of the pit, poking about with her flashlight, when she heard it.
    Someone was whistling just outside the cave.
    Her heart racing, Trixie stood up. There wasn’t enough light for her to be sure of what was behind the pit, and she didn’t feel like going ahead blindly. For all she knew, those were man-eating fish below.
    The sound of whistling came closer.
    Frantically she darted her flashlight around the cave, searching for something big enough to hide behind. There was nothing. The supporting beams were too slender, and the tubs weren’t even big enough for her to climb inside. What am I going to do? she thought, starting to panic. She lost her grip on the flashlight, which fell with a plop into the pit.
    Just then, the whistling stopped. Trixie swiveled toward the cave’s opening. There, silhouetted against the bright blue water of the Hudson, stood a misshapen, hulking figure.

”Honey, Help!” ● 8

    BEFORE TRIXIE COULD SCREAM, the man asked angrily, ”Just what do you think you’re doing here?”
    More than anything, Trixie wanted to ask him the same question, but the words were frozen in her throat.
    The man came in out of the sunlight. He was about sixty or seventy years old, Trixie guessed, with a full white beard and ruddy complexion. His odd shape was caused by his cap, as well as the knapsack slung over his back and the equipment he carried in both hands.
    He examined Trixie closely, as if looking at a fish squirming on the end of a line. ”What are you doing here?” he asked again, a little more quietly.
    ”I—I’m Trixie Belden, and I’m just doing a little ex—exploring.”
    ”Exploring, eh?” said the man, unslinging his knapsack and starting to unload it. ”Well, this here’s my place of business, which means that what you’re doing is more like trespassing.” He looked over at her again. ”But I suppose there’s no harm done.”
    Uh... what kind of business are you in?” Trixie asked hesitantly.
    ”Look around you, little lady! If this place doesn’t make it plain that I’m a commercial fisherman, then I don’t know what would! My name s Pat Bunker, by the way, but everyone just calls me Bunker.”
    Trixie swallowed hard. Not only did she hate being called things like ”little lady,” but she also couldn’t believe that this cave was used for something as harmless as fishing. However, Bunker didn’t seem to be trying to hide anything from her, and he seemed to trust her.
    She came closer and asked, ”Why do you keep your fish in such an out-of-the-way place?”
    It s the best place I know of,” Bunker said simply. ”If you find any better