The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

drew a deep breath—“I’ve a feeling we’ve seen the last of a young scoundrel named Slim. White Hole Springs or anyplace else around here would be too hot for him to set foot in.”
    “I don’t know what makes people bad the way Slim is,” Honey said. “Maybe if he’d ever had a chance....”
    “I gave him a chance when I hired him to act as your guide. He just didn’t recognize it. Till the day he dies, he’ll think it’s easier to make a dollar by stealing than by hard work. When blame is being passed
    around, I surely can claim my share for ever letting him in the same room with you young people. It’s a lesson to me. The fact is, we’ve all learned a lot, and it’s time we turned in and thought it over.”
     

Misplaced Memory ● 17
     
    AFTER THEY WENT upstairs, the Bob-Whites had a conference in the girls’ room. They sat around with glum faces.
    “I know just what you’re all thinking,” Trixie said. “You’re thinking that if I hadn’t gone down into that sinkhole in the cave, we wouldn’t be confined to quarters. You’re right. But, jeepers, we wouldn’t have any fish, either.”
    “If you’d sent up more ghost fish in that bucket instead of the darned old worms,” Mart said, “we’d probably be sitting on Cloud Nine, with the reward in our hands.”
    “I’m so glad Trixie is safe that I don’t want to blame anyone,” Honey said. “If we don’t find any more ghost fish, we’ll think up some other way of raising money after we go back home. We’ve always been able to find a way when we needed to. Maybe we could have a talent show or some sort of sale....”
    Trixie got up from her seat on the side of the bed, took her mother’s letter from the dresser, read it, folded it, and turned around to the group.
    “Have we ever in our lives started a project and not finished it? No. Then are we going to leave this project unfinished if it’s humanly possible not to? No. Let’s go downstairs right now and talk it out with Uncle Andrew. Of course I was foolish to go down in that well, but how did I know a cloudburst was on its way? I’d have been perfectly safe if that hadn’t happened.”
    “That’s debatable,” Jim said. “You should have told Bill Hawkins, and you should have called Brian and me, but you know that now, and I’m not going to say any more. Right now, if you think my opinion is worth anything, I feel it would be a mistake to go downstairs and talk to your uncle again tonight. He’s had a terrible shock. I think our chances are better if we talk to him tomorrow.”
    “I heartily agree,” Brian said. “If we can come up with some idea that will insure a maximum of safety, he may change his mind. Gosh, I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. Let’s all hit the sack. Good night, Trix, Honey.”
    The boys went to their room, and the lodge darkened for the night.
    The next morning, it didn’t seem as though Brian were a very good prophet.
    The Bob-Whites visited the tank in the cold cellar room and came back with long faces. An inventory had shown two ghost fish in the middle stage of evolution and one with eyes, but none wholly eyeless. That meant the evolutionary sequence was not complete, and they couldn’t possibly qualify for the reward. The ghost salamander was extra and probably had no value; neither did the crayfish or the other specimens Mart had. Brian and Jim’s rock specimens shone bright with minerals when they put them under a light, but they were only souvenirs.
    Uncle Andrew was affable. He laughed and talked about many things—but not about ghost fish and the reward.
    The Bob-Whites were subdued and quiet. They were polite, but they couldn’t think of anything to say.
    Uncle Andrew seemed to be able to take just so much of their silence and gloomy faces; then he exploded.
    “All right, out with it. I can’t stand having all of you act like chief mourners. Even Jacob acts as if I’m an unfriendly stranger.”
    Trixie started to speak.
    Uncle Andrew held up his hand. “Never mind. I know what’s bothering you. It’s that blasted fish. I haven’t changed my mind one bit about the danger you’d be getting into, but—”
    Trixie jumped from her seat.
    “But something Jim said last night stayed in my mind. He spoke of putting strong beams across the top of the hole and—”
    “We could do it, Uncle Andrew!” Trixie clapped her hands and shouted. “There are beams right outside in the lumber pile. Hooray!”
    “Not so