The Mystery in Arizona

dismay of the Bob-Whites, without his mentioning the proposed visit.
    Only yesterday Di had said worriedly, “Maybe Uncle Monty has changed his mind. He seemed to want us when he was here last month, but now I’m not so sure.”
    “A lot of things could have happened since his visit,” Honey had said. “Christmas is a very busy time at dude ranches, Di. Maybe your uncle hasn’t room for guests—especially nonpaying guests.”
    The Wheelers were very rich, and before they bought the Manor House they had spent a lot of time traveling. One summer they had spent several weeks touring the whole state of Arizona In a trailer, so naturally Honey knew a lot about dude ranches. Trixie herself had done research on the subject for a theme on Arizona, which she had written in the seventh grade, and the boys had apparently been born knowing a lot about western ranches.
    But Di obviously knew nothing. She stared at Honey in surprise and said, “I don’t think people who live on Uncle Monty’s ranch pay him.”
    “The employees don’t,” Honey replied with a smile. “If we were cowboys, we’d live in the bunk-house and work for our room and board and earn some money, too. But since none of us knows how to rope a steer or brand a calf, we’ll belong to the dude part of the ranch. Even though we all ride very well, were still dudes—nonpaying dudes, in our case. I wouldn’t blame Mr. Wilson if he has changed his mind.”
    “Oh, don’t be silly,” Di protested. “Uncle Monty wouldn’t have invited us if he didn’t want us. Mother says his ranch is simply enormous, so there must be plenty of room.”
    “Not necessarily,” Honey argued. “All the ranches out West are enormous. But an awful lot of people spend their Christmas holidays at the Tucson ranches. Since Mr. Wilson invited us, a lot of people, who will pay very, very well, may have made reservations. So now there may not be room for us.”
    “Well,” Di had said stubbornly, “I’ll be awfully disappointed if Mother doesn’t get a letter from Uncle Monty soon saying that he does want us.” That was yesterday, and today, when the girls met in the cafeteria, Di shook her head in answer to the question in Trixie’s eyes.
    “Not a word,” she said, “although Mother got a letter from him yesterday. He didn’t mention us or Christmas. What can be the matter?”
    They joined the line at the far end of the counter, and Trixie said, “Well, I sort of hope you don’t go now.” And she explained.
    “Oh, what a shame, Trix,” Di said sympathetically. “I’m barely passing myself, so I know how you feel. Did your parents come right out and say that you couldn’t go to Tucson with us? I mean, if we do go.”
    “Oh, Trix!” Honey breathed.
    Trixie shook her head. “Arizona didn’t come into it. But when Moms and Dad said they were so disappointed in me, I felt simply awful. I right away promised to study like anything from now on so I can get good marks in the midyears.” She plunked the napkin roll of silverware onto her tray. “That means Arizona is out for this Belden, but definitely.”
    “I won’t go unless you go,” loyal Honey cried.
    Di nodded. “It wouldn’t be any fun without Trixie. She always gets us involved in mysteries and adventures and other exciting things.”
    “That’s right,” Honey agreed. “The boys feel the same way about her, so even if we do get invited, nobody will want to accept”
    Trixie couldn’t help laughing. “You two are a riot,” she said, “talking over my head just as though I were somewhere else. And don’t be silly. Of course you’ll go without me and have a grand time. I won’t mind being left behind,” she finished bravely, “because it’s my own fault.”
    They brought their laden trays to a large table which had just been vacated by a group of lofty seniors. Jim and Brian had jobs in the cafeteria kitchen and usually ate their lunch there. But Mart joined the girls in a few minutes. He quickly scanned their faces.
    “Any news?” he asked Di hopefully.
    She shook her head.
    “Well,” he said cheerfully, “no news is good news. I always say that optimism and anticipation are the spice of life.”
    Mart, who wore his blond hair in a crew cut, was forever using big words, often to Trixie’s annoyance. She secretly envied his vocabulary, which made it easy for him to write compositions. She could never think of a word to put on paper, let alone spell and punctuate properly.
    He