The Mystery in Arizona

yes?”
    “Ugh,” said Trixie. “She is definitely not my type, but if Honey will cope with Mrs. Sherman, I’ll try to be nice to Miss Jane Brown.”
    “Ugh, ugh, ugh,” Di wailed. “That leaves me with the unknown quantity. Is it a Mr. or Mrs. or Miss X, Maria?”
    “Mr. X,” Maria replied, “is a middle-aged man who came here for some reason which I cannot fathom. He never goes near the pool or the corral, nor does he seem at all interested in getting to know the other guests of his age, who manage to have good times playing cards or taking walks or watching television. Your Mr. X, Diana—his name is Wellington—does nothing but sit around all day with the saddest expression in his eyes. It is so strange. He had reserved a family-sized cabin, but he arrived alone Saturday and is occupying a small room in the ranch house. He will not give up the cabin, although I know the patron could easily rent it to others who have wanted to spend Christmas here.” She shook her head. “If he were a child, I would say that he was suffering from homesickness. But that cannot be so; otherwise he would go back home, wouldn’t he?”
    Trixie blinked. “He is certainly the mysterious Mr. X. I’m glad he’s your problem, Di.” She turned to Maria. “What about the guests who are here because they suffer from asthma? Aren’t they awfully fussy?”
    “Oh, yes,” Maria agreed, “but you will have little to do with them. Our resident nurse, Miss Girard, and her assistant, Miss Mall, make their beds and keep their rooms and baths tidy.” She smiled encouragingly. “So you see, it is not such a big chore, after all, keeping house here. You will be all through with the rooms before luncheon, which is served at one. Dinner is served at eight. So, between the hours of two and seven thirty, you will be free to do exactly as you please. And now, adios, chulas. It is getting late.”
    She slipped away into the shadows which lay across the path that led down to the cabins.
    “She’s simply darling,” Honey breathed, “and so is Rosita. I love them both.”
    “So do I,” Trixie and Di chorused, and Trixie added, “If it were not for Rosita and Maria, I’d be scared to death. I’m scared half to death as it is. We’re sure to make all sorts of horrible mistakes tomorrow. We were awfully dumb to let the boys get by with just waiting on the tables and helping Maria prepare meals. They’ll have a lot more free time than we will. And poor me, I’ll have practically no time for fun at all, what with having to study at least an hour a day.”
    “Oh, Trixie,” Honey cried sympathetically. “I forgot about that angle. It’s not fair. Since you do have to be tutored, you shouldn’t have to do as much work as we do. Don’t you agree, Di?”
    Di nodded, and, arms entwined, the girls strolled inside and to their suite. “Let’s arrange it this way, Honey. Trixie doesn’t have to help with the luncheon dishes. She can study during that hour.”
    “That’s just what I was thinking,” Honey agreed. Trixie sank tiredly down on the bottom bunk and kicked off her moccasins. “No,” she said. “I myself personally got those bad marks in school, so I’m the one who should suffer—not you two.”
    Di yawned. “Well, let’s not worry about that until we have to, Trix. Somebody like Rosita may turn up any day wanting a job. That would make things a lot easier for all of us.”
    Trixie began to undress. “I wonder why she quit high school in the middle of her senior year. I wonder why the Orlandos left so suddenly and why Maria didn’t go with them. And why Mr. X. Wellington seems so homesick. And why Miss Jane Brown is so sulky. And why Mrs. Astorbilt Sherman is so bored. It’s all very mysterious.” Her blue eyes sparkled, and she didn’t feel the least bit weary or depressed anymore.
    Di yawned again. “You and your mysteries! Me for bed.”
    After she had gone, Honey asked, “Do you want the upper bunk, Trixie? You did when we went on that trailer trip.” Without even waiting for Trixies reply, Honey climbed into the lower bunk. “This is one night,” she murmured sleepily, “when I am not going to brush my teeth. I don’t care if they rot out of my head—I’m that tired.” She pulled the bedclothes all the way up to her chin and fell asleep almost immediately.
    Trixie, feeling very wide-awake, did brush her teeth, and then she wandered over to peer out of the window which opened onto the west