The Mysterious Code

back of dark glasses, kicked his
heels in new shoes, swayed to the music of a record player he bought, and
finally fell over while trying on a new hat Then Mrs. Belden came in with the
popper and corn.
    Jim whooped when he
saw it. “I couldn’t down a grain of com if my life depended upon it,” he said,
“after that dinner I ate.”
    “I could!” Bobby
cried.
    “I could!” Larry and
Terry echoed.
    So Mr. Belden
brought in the big dishpan lined with waxed paper. Mrs. Belden poured a handful
of com into the popper and handed it to Mr. Belden. It sputtered and crackled
and popped in no time into enormous white kernels which Mrs. Belden salted,
buttered, and offered to the guests. “Don’t pop another grain!” Honey finally
said. “The twins will burst” Diana insisted, though they shook their heads
vigorously. “I never saw them eat so much in all their fives.”
    “It’s the goodest
food,” Larry said.
    “The goodest food in
all the world,” said Terry, “an I’m goin’ to move to this house and live with
Bobby and his family.”
    “Oh, Moms, can he?
An’ Larry, too? Cant they stay forever?”
    “I’m afraid not,
Bobby, honey,” Diana said. “But your mother said you will be able to come and
see us soon, and, twinnies, there’s Tom now. He’s come for all of us.”
    “I won t go home,”
Terry sobbed.
    “I won’t, too,”
Larry said. “Go home, Tom!”
    “Tell me a riddle,
Tom,” Bobby begged. “Regan always does.”
    “All right,” Tom
said as he helped Diana and Honey button the howling twins into their
snow-suits. “Listen!” he said, and miraculously they listened.
    “What did the
doughnut say to the layer cake?” Tom asked.
    “I don’t know,”
Terry yelled. “Tell me, Tom.”
    “Don’t give up!”
Bobby shouted. “Don’t tell him, Tom!”
    “I won’t,” Tom said,
zipping the legs of the twins’ suits. “What did it say, Bobby?”
    Bobby thought and
thought and thought, but he didn’t have the answer. “Awright, I give up, too,”
he finally said. “What did the doughnut say?”
    “If I had all your
dough I wouldn’t be hanging around this hole,” Tom said. “Come on, kids, lets
go.”
    Mrs Belden brought
out some cookies and an extra pumpkin pie and put them in a basket for Tom to
take home to Celia.
    “It’s the most fun
we’ve ever had in all our lives,” they all insisted as they trooped out. Trixie
and the boys followed them, coatless, outside to the station wagon.
    Bobby called
good-bye constantly from the doorway, and the twins answered, waving till they
almost fell from the seat beside Tom.
    Just before they
left, Tom called to Trixie, “You’ve heard about Bull Thompson’s Uncle Snipe,
haven’t you?”
    “Yes,” said Trixie
slowly, wondering. “What about Snipe?”
    “He’s back at that
bookie business on Hawthorne Street, I guess,” Tom said. “I saw him the day
after Diana’s Valentine party driving a big blue and white sedan. Say, he could
have been here when the clubhouse was wrecked.”
    “Blue and white
sedan!” Trixie exclaimed. “There was a blue and white sedan stolen that night.
I’ve wondered about that Snipe Thompson... he just could have been angry enough
at me about Bull to want to bum our clubhouse.”
    “Sounds like Snipe’s
doing,” Tom said. “I think he’s just out of prison after serving time for
robbery. Forget about it tonight, Trixie, but better check on it with Spider in
the morning.”
    “I will. Thanks,
Tom. Wait till I tell Spider!”
    “That Snipe’s a bad
one,” Tom said. “Well, everyone in?” he asked the Wheelers and the Lynches.
“Guess Regan and I are elected to pick up the antiques tomorrow for the show.
See you then, Trixie. Let’s go, kids.”

The
Show Takes Shape • 16
     
    Trixie, Brian, and Mart had set the alarm
for seven o’clock. First they had to collect all the mended furniture from the
clubhouse and take it to the showroom.
    Then the boys had to
go to Mrs. Vanderpoel’s, to the Wheelers’, and half a dozen other places to
pick up the antiques to be exhibited. Tom and Regan would be waiting to help.
    The Hakaito brothers
were due at the showroom at eleven o’clock to arrange their exhibit.
    After the antiques
were all assembled, the Bob-Whites would have the job of arranging them in the
showroom and in the windows.
    Before any of this
would be done, however, Trixie had an errand she thought more important than
anything else on their schedule.
    “Did you hear