The Mystery at Mead's Mountain

long hairy arms. With his ruddy complexion and his curly reddish brown hair cut close to his head, he rather reminded Trixie of a playful monkey at the zoo.
    Honey, always polite, had no trouble starting a conversation with anyone, even when she was upset about something like losing a valuable heirloom. “Tell me, Bert, are you and Jack from this area?” she inquired pleasantly.
    “No, not at all,” Bert answered with a wink. “You might say Jack and I are from all over. We belong to the merchant marines and travel the world on tramp steamers.”
    “How exciting!” Trixie exclaimed immediately. The idea of sailing from port to port on a tramp steamer, taking cargo wherever it was needed, appealed to her lively sense of adventure.
    “It’s an interesting life,” Jack agreed. “But it’s nice to get away from the sea once in a while, too. A ski vacation in the mountains is our idea of excitement.”
    “You both ski?” Di frowned. “I didn’t know sailors could ski.”
    “Sailors are just like other people,” Jack informed her. “Some can ski, some can’t. Bert and I were raised in Washington State. There’s a lot of good skiing out there.”
    “How about swimming?” asked Mart. “Do you fit the stereotype of the sailor who loves the sea but can’t swim?”
    Bert chuckled. “I’m a fairly good swimmer, but Jack here refuses to fill a bathtub more than three inches.” Jack turned a shade redder than his normal red. “Aw, come off it. I just never got the hang of swimming, that’s all,” he said weakly.
    Katie came around to their table, offering second helpings of brown bread. “Bert and Jack,” she said cordially, “I see you’ve met our junior detectives.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice.
    “What do you mean?” asked Jack, looking up from his bread to Katie.
    “I don’t really know the whole story myself, but apparently Trixie and Honey are amateur sleuths. Isn’t that right, Trixie?”
    Trixie sighed. She really didn’t like going into her plans for the future when she suspected that adults were laughing at her.
    Honey came to her rescue. “Yes, we’re going to open the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency officially once we’re out of college.”
    “So, you really are the Sherlock Holmes types, after all,” teased Bert.
    “Oh,” said Jack, “you mean that’s what you want to be when you grow up.” He leaned across the table and patted Trixie’s hand. “Well, don’t give up your dream, kid. When I was young, I dreamed of going to sea, and look at me now—I’m a sailor.”
    The other Bob-Whites, sensing the adults’ condescending manner, jumped to Trixie and Honey’s defense. “This isn’t just a dream,” argued Mart. “They’ve solved a lot of very tough cases already. Maybe you read in the paper about the capture of an international jewel-theft organization. Trixie was responsible for that.”
    This announcement brought a look of sisterly affection from Trixie, but only further grins from the three adults.
    “How nice,” said Bert politely.
    “Well, how about those people who were stockpiling guns?” added Jim, his well-known temper starting to flare. “They were going to start a revolution in South America, but Trixie figured out a coded map and helped the police capture the criminals.”
    Bert looked startled and put his elbows up on the table. “You’re not talking about those big arsenals the FBI found on the Mississippi River, are you?” he inquired sharply.
    “That was our Trixie in action,” Di said proudly.
    “I remember reading in the paper that a bunch of teen-agers were instrumental in helping the police,” Bert said thoughtfully. “That was you kids?”
    “Well, it was mostly Trixie,” Brian said. “She gets the rest of us involved sooner or later.”
    “I guess you really do know what you’re doing, Trixie,” Bert admitted, leaning back again.
    Trixie blushed with pleasure, more because of her friends’ support than because the adults were now convinced.
    “Real detectives on Mead’s Mountain,” mused Katie, shaking her head. “I’ll have to tell Pat about this. Maybe you can solve the mystery of Thomas Mead’s ghost!”
    Trixie was dying to ask her more about the ghost, but before she could formulate a question, Katie had moved on and Honey was talking.
    “It’s getting late,” Honey was saying. “Why don’t we go skiing now? We can get my watch from Miss Trask this evening.”
    “Sure, if that’s okay