The Hudson River Mystery

forward to peer down at the swirling water.
    Honey’s action reminded Trixie of something Thea had said. ”She told us she was afraid of water!” she exclaimed. ”Maybe she fell—” Afraid to finish the sentence, Trixie tiptoed to the edge of the rock to join Honey.
    Honey almost lost her balance and clutched at Trixie, causing both girls to waver wildly until Honey took a giant step backward toward the weeds.
    ”Let’s get out of here,” she said nervously. ”I’m sure Thea didn’t fall into the water, and now we really are going to be late for the party.
    If it makes you feel any better, you can call Sergeant Molinson from my house and report Thea missing. She is a grown-up person, remember, and it really isn’t our business if she wants to take a walk.”
    ”Well, okay,” said Trixie, reluctantly turning to follow Honey back up the cliff. ”But I’m keeping Thea’s book.”
    ”Why?” Honey demanded. ”So she can accuse you of stealing as well as meddling?”
    Trixie flushed uncomfortably. ”I’m not sure why, but this way, it won’t get rained on or something.”
    ”There’s no rain in the forecast,” Honey called over her shoulder. ”In fact, it’s supposed to be a clear night with a full moon. Who could ask for better Halloween weather?”
    ”Well, I guess the werewolves won’t complain,” Trixie muttered.
    Back at Manor House, the girls headed straight for Honey’s room to freshen up. Trixie went into Honey’s private bathroom to wash her face.
    As she was selecting a dainty pink towel, she called, ”Honey, what’s your costume for the party going to be?”
    Even from inside the bathroom, Trixie could hear Honey’s sigh. ”I’ve told you a million times,” she said. ”I’m not wearing a costume.
    I’m pretty sure Jim isn’t, either. We voted to make costumes optional, remember? I didn’t realize that we were also voting to make your brain optional.”
    Trixie sat on the bed to watch Honey brush her hair. ”Well, I’ve had a lot on my mind,” she defended herself. ”It isn’t every day that my brother practically dies, and I find sharks practically in my backyard, and— Well, anyway, I’m truly sorry about forgetting what you told me. Hey, I just had a super idea! Let’s go as each other!”
    ”Each other? Trixie Belden, we already are each other! What I mean is, you’re you and I’m me and—”
    ”I didn’t say ourselves ,” giggled Trixie. ”I said each other! We’ll trade clothes!”
    Honey looked down at her brand-new outfit, which Trixie was sure had come from some exclusive New York City shop. The blue and green plaid skirt was topped by a navy wool vest and a crisp white blouse. From one wrist dangled several expensive gold bangles.
    Then she looked over at Trixie, who wore a neat pair of comfortable jeans. Her red pullover sweater, knitted a year ago by Mrs. Belden, already featured several tiny ink blotches from where Trixie’s pen had leaked one day.
    ”It’s a deal,” Honey said promptly. ”Only I’m not sure what size this outfit is....”
    ”What you’re tactfully trying to tell me is that you think I’ll burst the seams. Well, let’s try. I’ve been doing so much running around lately that I just might surprise you!”
    Trixie was able to fit into Honey’s clothes, but because Honey was taller, the skirt hung down to a ludicrous length, the trim vest became lumpy, and the blouse sleeves hampered Trixie’s fingers. Honey, on the other hand, looked like a scarecrow, in loose-fitting jeans that stopped well above her ankles and a sweater with sleeves that stopped well above her wrists.
    The girls took one look in the mirror and burst out laughing.
    ”I wonder if anyone will recognize us,” Honey said sarcastically, tugging gently at the sweater sleeves.
    Trixie tried to smooth back her hair. ”If only there was some way I could disguise this mangled mop,” she groaned.
    ”Let’s quit while we’re a head,” Honey snorted, ”if you catch my meaning! Anyway, I have to run down to the kitchen now and finish making my sandwiches. Mart will never forgive me if they’re not ready!”
    ”Who would? I’m sure they’ll be a gourmet treat. I asked Brian to bring over my contribution when he comes—some plain old ordinary kidney bean salad I whipped up last night. Can I use your phone now? Jeepers, I wish the sergeant could see me and be convinced that it was you calling, not me. I have a feeling you’d get a lot warmer