The Marshland Mystery

said a small “Oh” and thought it over for a second. Then she said impulsively, “I’m glad I’m just plain me and not a famous somebody-or-other! Imagine all that traveling around! And being bullied by Miss Crandall! But I suppose Gaye gets a nice long vacation after the end of the tour.”
    “Oh, no,” Honey said quickly. “Miss Trask says Gaye has to keep learning new concertos and stuff all the time, for the next season.”
    “I feel kind of sorry for her,” Trixie admitted, “even though I know she’s a little monster.”
    “I do, too, really,” Honey agreed. “I’ve decided that I’ll try to be extra nice to her while she’s here.”
    Trixie sighed. “I suppose we all should. Moms says so, anyhow, and she’s usually right.”
    So they agreed most solemnly to overlook any small impudence on Gaye’s part and try to make her stay at Sleepyside a happy one.
    Trixie was just saying good-bye, when she heard a small sound at the doorway. She was so sure it was Mart that she said, without turning around, “I fooled you, Smarty Marty. I’m all through talking, so there’s no use in your sneaking around listening!” She hung up the receiver and whirled to face the door, a saucy grin on her face.
    But it wasn’t her almost-twin who was standing there.
    It was a small figure in pajamas. “I waited an’ waited,” it reproached her accusingly, “but you didn’t come. What did Gaye say? Can she go with us?”
    “I wasn’t talking to Gaye, Bobby. That was Honey. Gaye’s sort of sick, and I don’t think she’ll feel very much like going out picking flowers tomorrow. We'll have to put it off till some other day.”
    “But I don’t want to! You said we’d go tomorrow and take Gaye! You’re mean!” Bobby burst into sobs. “You don’t like Gaye!”
    Trixie hurried to him and put her arms around him. “Now, Bobby,” she said gently, “you mustn’t say that. Gaye is sick, or I wouldn’t tell you so. I wouldn’t tell you a lie. And tomorrow I’ll put on my blue jeans and a sweater and you can put on your playclothes. Then we’ll take Gaye some of those pretty flowers that Honey and I picked yesterday. You can give them to her all by your own little self—if Miss Crandall will let you see her.” Bobby’s tears disappeared in a flash, and he gave Trixie a big hug. “I love you lots,” he confided.
    And a few minutes later, after he had meekly allowed her to lead him upstairs and tumble him back into bed, he told her sleepily, “I’m gonna tell Gaye ’bout my new chickies. Do you think she’d like a yellow one?”
    “You can ask her tomorrow, lambkin,” Trixie told him cheerfully, but to herself she added silently, if she bothers to see you.
     
    Honey was saddling Strawberry inside the Wheeler stable as Trixie and Bobby came trudging up the long driveway the next morning.
    Their shadows stretched out across the stable floor as they stood in the doorway, and Honey turned quickly.
    The first thing that Trixie noticed was that Honey’s pretty face was unusually sober.
    “Hey, where are the boys and Regan? And didn’t Mart come over to ride Strawberry? What’s going on?” Trixie asked it all in one breath.
    “Oh, hi!” Honey answered, summoning up a smile, but with a warning nod in Bobby’s direction as he stood in the square of sunlight in the doorway, clutching the wild flowers by their tissue-wrapped stems. “Hi, Bobby! Did you bring me the pretty flowers?”
    Bobby shook his head. “No!” He put the flowers hastily behind him. “Flowers for Gaye! Where’s Gaye?”
    “Gulp!” Honey’s eyes twinkled. “I guess that puts me very nicely in my place.” The twinkle faded quickly.
    “Anything wrong?” Trixie asked under her breath as she took a couple of quick steps toward Honey.
    “Tell you in a minute,” Honey said in a whisper. “Bobby!” She raised her voice as Bobby came in farther, looking around. “Gaye’s up at the house. She’s probably having breakfast right now, and I think if you asked Miss Crandall very nicely, she’d let you take the flowers in to Gaye. Do you want to?”
    “Oh, yes!” Bobby, with a beaming smile, was out and away like a flash.
    “Such devotion!” Honey laughed. Then she nodded toward Susie’s stall, where the black mare was moving restlessly. “None of them has had a workout this morning. Why don’t you saddle up Susie? Let’s take her and Strawberry for a good run.”
    “Swell! Do you think it’s all right to