The Mysterious Visitor

like the others with "B.W.G." cross-stitched in white on the back. By Sunday evening they had invited everyone on the fist to the Halloween party and were completing plans for it.
    "M-m-m, let’s see," said Honey, who, as secretary of the club, had been checking off names on the list. "Twelve girls and fifteen boys. That means about ten pounds of chopped meat for hamburgers, at least six dozen frankfurters, about a gross of rolls, several gallons of ice cream, a couple of cases of soft drinks, and milk for those who don’t want Cokes. And we mustn’t forget mustard, relish, catsup, and butter. You ought to order all of this stuff from the store right after school tomorrow, Di, and make sure that it’s delivered Friday afternoon."
    "What are you going to do with it after it arrives?" Trixie asked. "Practically all of it should go right into the refrigerator. Is your mother’s refrigerator large enough for all the food, Di?" "We’ve got two huge ones and a gigantic freezer," Di said, "but they’re always crammed full. I’m beginning to see what Mother meant when she said we ought to hire caterers. What am I going to do, Honey?"
    Honey chewed her pencil worriedly. "We can’t ask your mother’s advice now, when she has said you can run the party yourself. We’ve got to cope with the problem, but I don’t see how." She thought for a minute. "We don’t really have to serve milk, and you can buy the ice cream packed in dry ice."
    "And," Trixie added, "you can buy a big chunk of ice for the soft drinks. We always do, and we keep it in a tub. Frozen hamburger doesn’t have to be kept in a refrigerator and neither do canned frankfurters. If the butter’s soft, it’ll be that much easier to spread."
    "How smart you are," Di said admiringly. "If we get the things you suggested, we won’t have to go near the kitchen. I’D just have everything carried onto the terrace as soon as it’s delivered." "Suppose it rains?" Honey asked dubiously. "This heat wave we’ve been having is bound to end in a thunderstorm soon."
    That won t matter," Di said. "Our terrace is enclosed. It’s really more of an outdoor living room which runs all along one side of the house. We can cook the food in the big fireplaces at each end of it."
    "Marshmallows," Trixie exclaimed. "Halloween wouldn’t be Halloween without toasted marshmallows."
    "And popcorn," Diana added. "We forgot all about that important item."
    "I’m beginning to get nervous," Honey said, chewing her pencil again. "We’ve probably forgotten all sorts of important things. I think we should add to the list paper plates and napkins and straws. If we cause the servants a lot of extra work, Di, Harrison will raise a fuss, and then your mother may not let you attempt to give another party by yourself."
    "I wish he’d get mad enough to quit," Di said crossly. "The way he acts, you’d think he owned our place. I hardly ever see my little brothers and sisters, because Harrison doesn’t like children that age. He’s afraid they’ll break something in the living room or put their sticky hands on the slipcovers, so the twins spend most of their time in the nursery when they’re not outdoors." She turned to Trixie. "You may not believe me, but I had fun taking care of Bobby yesterday. You don’t know how lucky you are to have a little brother you can hug and kiss whenever you feel like it."
    "Oh, I know," Trixie said sympathetically. "Bobby is an awful nuisance sometimes, but he really is so cute. And I have no business complaining when I have to take care of him. Moms always pays me twenty-five cents an hour when I do, and I get an allowance of a dollar a week, too." She added shamefacedly, "You’re right, Di; I guess I am a pretty lucky girl."
    "That reminds me," Di said worriedly. "How am I going to earn some money so that I can contribute to the club like you both did?"
    "Let’s not worry about that now," Honey said quickly. "Your party is the most important thing. If it’s a success without Harrison having anything to do with it, maybe your mother will decide you don’t need a butler."
    "Maybe," Di said without much hope. She peered over Honey’s shoulder at the list. "We’ve forgotten about prizes. What games do you think we ought to play?"
    "Oh, I know a wonderful game," Trixie cried. "Murder at Midnight! It’s more fun."
    Di shuddered. "It sounds delightful. I’m beginning to think you are a goon, Trixie. Or should I have said ‘ghoul’?"
    Trixie