The Mystery in Arizona

our tree for Santa and a box of hay for the reindeer.”
    “Said box of hay,” Mart added, “being a shoe box, Bobby’s size, and filled with grass cuttings which, when dried out, are barely enough to line the bottom of the box.”
    “But it’s the spirit of the thing that counts,” Honey said quickly. “Bobby is so cute and funny that I’m almost glad we’re going back home tomorrow, so we can spend Christmas with him.”
    “We’re not going back tomorrow,” someone said.
    Trixie jumped. It was she who had said that!
    “I’m sorry—” Uncle Monty and Mr. Lynch began, but Trixie went right on talking just as though she were all alone in the station wagon. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from thinking out loud.
    “We boys and girls could easily take the Orlandos’ place. The boys have had lots of experience waiting on tables at camp, and they’re all grand cooks. We girls can help Rosita with the housework. Even Honey learned how to make beds and keep the room tidy at boarding school. She—”
    Trixie’s voice dwindled away. Honey and Di and the boys were staring at her in amazement. The expression on their faces said plainly, “Do housework on our vacation? Are you cra-azee?”
    Of course I’m crazy , Trixie thought miserably and wished like anything that she had held her tongue. The sensible thing for them to do was forget about Arizona and go back home tomorrow. She opened her mouth to say, “I was just kidding,” when Uncle Monty pulled the car over to the side of the road and braked it to a stop.
    “Wow!” he breathed. “Are you serious, Trixie? That would be the answer to my problem. I’ll pay you what I paid the Orlandos, two hundred dollars a week, and you could still have plenty of time for fun.”
    Trixie closed her eyes. It was too late then to back out. The other Bob-Whites would hate her for the rest of their lives. Why was she forever doing and saying impulsive things that got them all into scrapes? This would be the scrape to end all scrapes: Two weeks of sheer drudgery loomed ahead of them instead of the good times they had planned. Why, they probably wouldn’t even have time to go near a corral, let alone get on a horse and gallop across the desert! And as for La Posada and the other festivals, they’d be lucky if they had time to read about them in the newspaper.
    In the awful silence that followed Uncle Monty’s offer, Trixie died a thousand mental deaths, but somehow she managed to say, “We’d love the job, Uncle Monty. All of us would.”
    Because, after all, they had flown more than a thousand miles to spend the holidays in Tucson. It didn’t make sense to fly back again the next day. Maybe it wouldn’t be much of a holiday, but at least they could say for the rest of their lives that they spent Christmas in Arizona!

A Dark Stranger • 6

    HONEY, WHO WAS always both tactful and sympathetic, came to Trixie's rescue then. “Of course we’d love to take the Orlandos’ place, Uncle Monty. It’ll be fun.”
    Nobody else said anything except Uncle Monty. He let out a loud sigh of relief and started up the motor again. “Great! The work, with all of you helping, won’t be awfully hard. I’ll see to it that you have plenty of time for riding and swimming.”
    Trixie opened her eyes, and, to her amazement, in that short interval it had grown dark. The sun had dipped down behind the mountains, the flaming sky had changed to dark purple, and the air was growing chilly. Trixie shivered and slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat.
    The others followed suit, and then Mr. Lynch said, “Well, it would certainly solve a lot of problems for you, Monty. How do you feel about Trixie’s suggestion, Di?”
    “I’m very much in favor of it, Dad,” she said and the boys added, “So are we.”
    But Trixie could tell from the tone of their voices that, far from being in favor of the plan, they thoroughly disapproved of it—and of her.
    Ten minutes later, when they arrived at the ranch house, Mart made it plain how he felt. “Well, Calamity Jane,” he whispered as he pretended to help her climb out of the station wagon, “I hope you end up with dishpan hands and housemaid’s knee.”
    “The feeling is mutual,” Trixie retorted. “And, in case you’re interested, four hundred dollars is not to be sneezed at” She brushed past him to join the others on the patio.
    Uncle Monty opened the door and, bowing, said, 54 Bienvenida! Welcome.” He led the way