The Mystery in Arizona

opportunity never arose.
    After the last class Trixie and Honey went down to the locker room for their coats, but although Di’s locker was in the same row, there was no sign of her.
    “Maybe she got out early,” Trixie said, “so she could talk to her mother about it and everything. I— oh, Honey, why didn’t I study hard last month? I just know you’re all going to leave on Monday—all of you except poor me.”
    “Oh, Trixie.” Honey squeezed her arm sympathetically. "You mustn’t feel like that about it. And you know perfectly well that even if the others do go, I won’t.”
    Arm in arm, they strolled down to the bus stop where the other Bob-Whites were talking and gesticulating excitedly. Di was in the middle of the group, and when she caught sight of Honey and Trixie, she motioned to them to hurry.
    “I skipped the last period because I had study hall,” she called, “but I couldn’t get Dad on the school phone. So I called Mother and told her how some of you felt you couldn’t go on Monday.” As the girls came closer, she lowered her voice. “So Mother called Daddy and finally got him, but he’d already bought the tickets. So now well all just have to leave on Monday. Mother and Daddy,” she finished breathlessly, “feel very strongly about it. They think that it would be much better to miss a few days of school than to miss the trip.”
    “I feel that way myself,” said Mart cheerfully. "Yes, yes, my dear Miss Lynch, I see eye to eye with your parents.” He spread his hands expressively. “School—what is it? Here today and gone tomorrow. But Arizona—ah, that’s a horse of a different color. To fly out at this time of the year, when all of the East will be blanketed in snow, will be a broadening influence, to say the least. And I for one—”
    “We know; we know,” Trixie interrupted sourly. * I, for one, will not be allowed to leave on Monday, and you for two probably won’t be allowed to go then, either.”
    Jim stared at her curiously. “What’s the matter with you, Trix?”
    “Sounds sort of crazy, doesn’t she?” Brian added. “As though she almost didn’t want to go.”
    “I almost don’t,” Trixie replied. “What’s the use of wanting something you know can t possibly come true?”
    “Why shouldn’t it come true?” Brian asked. “You know perfectly well that our parents are going to feel about it just the way Mr. and Mrs. Lynch do— that the trip is more important than the last few days of school when nobody does much work, anyway.”
    “Of course we’ll all be allowed to leave on Monday,” Jim said to Trixie emphatically. “It’ll be very educational, so none of our parents can object.”
    “That’s a thought,” Trixie said, brightening. “I have to write a theme before the midyears, and I’ve picked as my subject the Navaho Indians. What better place could I write it in than Arizona?” In a low voice she hurriedly told Brian and Jim about the low marks she had been getting in math and English. “So,” she finished dolefully, “even if I promise to study like anything Moms and Dad may not let me go.”
    Jim whistled. “Something will have to be done about that. It wouldn’t be any fun without you, Trix.”
    “That’s the way we feel about it,” Di and Honey chorused.
    “Not me,” Mart teased. “I’m looking forward to a vacation from Trixie. Think of it, men. No mysteries to solve. No crooks to trail to their lairs. No narrow escapes from sudden death. No hair-raising—”
    “Oh, stop it.” Trixie pushed past him and boarded the bus. Mart could be very understanding at times, but most of the time he teased her unmercifully. How could he joke when she was so miserable?
    All the way home she stared unseeingly out the window. When the bus lumbered to a stop at the foot of their driveway, she and her brothers climbed out.
    Bobby, whose bus arrived a few minutes before theirs, was waiting beside the mailbox. He had entered the first grade that fall and was very proud of the knowledge he acquired daily.
    “Guess what!” he exclaimed without any preliminaries. “I can write a letter. I can write over the whole paper and draw pictures on it, too.”
    “How smart of you!” Trixie dumped her books and gathered the plump little boy into her arms.
    “I put big houses on mine,” Bobby continued. “Big ones like skystapers!”
    Trixie shook with silent laughter. "You mean sky- scrapers, Bobby. Buildings that are so tall they seem to