The Mysterious Code

see it for herself.”

Brom’s
Surprise • 17
     
    When Trixie went back to the
showroom, she found that the Hakaito brothers had finished their part of the
exhibit. A thin bamboo curtain hung in front of one comer, closing it off from
the rest of the room.
    “Please to see
exhibit of swords, Miss Tlixie,” Oto said and drew aside the curtain.
    Back of the curtain
there was a land of enchantment. The two walls were hung with scrolls of vivid,
painted Japanese warriors, in various phases of their swordplay.
    “These are swords
warriors use in Japanese drama,” Oto explained, indicating the swords and
daggers surrounding die scrolls.
    On shelves on one
wall the Japanese displayed little silk-clad dolls depicting the famous
cherry-blossom dance in Tokyo and little painted ladies in gaily flowered
kimonos, carrying tiny, delicate fans.
    Trixie was
fascinated. She put her hand up and set in motion a series of tinkling glass
wind-bells which hung from the shelves. The other Bob-Whites gathered around
back of her, eyes big with wonder.
    On the opposite
wall, on shelves, were arranged exquisite ivories, little rickshas pulled by
miniature Japanese men, boxes which when opened revealed other boxes and inside
them still other boxes, all carved in lacy patterns. There were small birds and
lotus flowers, little ivory sampans and lovely ladies, bearded old men and
Japanese gods. From the shelves, to match the wind-bells on the opposite wall,
hung delicate black enameled cricket cages skillfully woven of reeds.
    “You like it, Miss
Tlixie?” Oto asked.
    The Bob-Whites burst
into spontaneous hand clapping.
    “It’s marvelous!”
Trixie said. “We should charge extra just to let people see it. It’s the
loveliest, most beautiful, most—”
    “Artistic, charming,
exquisite, superb, magnificent . . Mart supplied, and Trixie nodded her head
vigorously.
    “For once in your
life, Mart,” she said, “you’ve run out of words. How can we ever repay you for
doing this?” she asked the Japanese.
    “We repaid already
if you like,” Oto said, and Kasyo added, his grin widening to his ears, “Miss
Honey tell her cook Hakaito brothers have best vegetables.”
    “And velly good
fluits,” Oto added. “We go now.”
    After they had
departed, Trixie was silent in thought for a long moment Then she spoke up.
    “Just think—if we
hadn’t been going to have our show, we’d never have known Oto and Kasyo.”
    “Yes,” Jim agreed,
“and here we are thinking we’re doing so much for people all over the world,
and these two Japanese take time out from their work—and they work terribly
hard—to do this for
    99
    US.
    “Not so much for
us,” Diana reminded him, “as for the United Nations Children’s Fund. I do hope we make a lot of money.”
    “We’d better get
busy and finish this room, if we’re ever going to be through in time to open
tomorrow,” Brian said. “Look at that; there’s Spider! I thought you said he was
on duty and couldn’t watch our exhibit for us.”
    “He’s off duty this
afternoon,” Trixie said, “and on duty till eleven o’clock tonight. After
that, he said he’d watch things.”
    “Will you look who’s
with him?” Mart said. “Mrs. Vanderpoel!”
    “And—it can’t
be—it’s Brom!” Trixie said.
    The little Dutch
woman came bustling in, her hat askew over her blue eyes and pink cheeks. “I’d
have had to stay home if it hadn’t been for Spider,” she said, “and I did want
to come in today. I don’t want to be here tomorrow with everyone gallivantin’
around. I want to see what you have, without a lot of people around who don’t
know a trivet from a warming pan.”
    “It’s grand to have
you here,” Trixie said, “and you, too, Mr. Brom,” she said to the old man who
hovered close to Spider’s side. “Bobby just left about half an hour ago. His
heart will be broken because he didn’t see you.”
    “We’re going to stop
at Crabapple Farm on the way home so Brom can see Bobby,” Spider said. “That
was part of the bait I used to get Brom to come with us.”
    Mart took the old
gentleman in charge and walked around the showroom with him, explaining just
who owned the various articles exhibited. Brom knew the old families and their
history back to colonial days. He grew more talkative as Trixie joined them,
and he told bits of history of early New York.
    When they came to
the carved lap desk, he paused, seeming a little confused.
    “That’s the desk
those