The Mystery in Arizona

‘cavelike’ place Petey told you about might be some sort of tomb. And the skeletons he said he was going to eat—he might have been talking about candy skulls.”
    “But,” Brian objected, “why didn’t the Orlandos tell Uncle Monty about this special fiesta? If they had, he could have arranged ahead of time for temporary help while they’re gone.”
    “The answer to that,” Trixie told him, “is simple. They probably felt he wouldn’t understand—might even make fun of them—so they just left.”
    “It makes sense,” Mart put in soberly. “Anyway, it explains the mystery of why Maria didn’t go with the others. And why she finally did go when she realized that, after all, Petey is an Orlando even though she isn’t, except by marriage.”
    “It doesn’t explain the horrible creatures Petey told Trixie about,” Honey said. “I get nightmares just thinking about that huge ape he said was lurking up above, all ready to jump down on him.”
    “That,” Trixie said, “must have been a piñata. They can be in any shape, you know, and when Petey told me he was going to give it a great big swat and eat it all up, he must have been talking about the goodies which would fall out when the piñata was broken.”
    “How smart you are!” Di cried admiringly. “If there’s a piñata mixed up in the mystery, we can be sure that the Orlandos did leave in order to attend some sort of a fiesta.”
    “The other horrible creatures,” Trixie continued, “fit in, too. A masquerade party could be part of the celebration, and if it took place in the basement of a house where there were no electric lights, it would look like a cave, and the ‘creatures’ would look even more gruesome by candlelight.”
    “All very spooky and shadowy,” Honey agreed with a little shiver. “Petey was only five years old last year, so it’s no wonder he doesn’t remember much of what happened except the events which seemed very exciting to him at the time.”
    Jim finished making the last of the tacos and said, “You girls are probably right. The Orlandos left to attend some sort of fiesta —the birthday of a long-dead ancestor could be the answer.”
    “That’s what I think,” Trixie cried excitedly. “Remember? Uncle Monty said the day he met us at the airport that the Orlandos could trace their family tree back to an Aztec noble.”
    Honey shivered again. “As part of the research for my theme, I’ve been reading Prescott’s Conquest of Mexico. Frankly, I don’t want to hear anything more about Aztec rites.”
    “I don’t mean that kind of thing,” Trixie said impatiently.
    Mart waved a sharp carving knife at her. “What a pretty little human sacrifice you would have made, Trixie.”
    Trixie glared at him. “All right, keep on talking about rites, but I—”
    “How pun-ny can you get?” Mart interrupted.
    Trixie ignored him. “Oh, don’t you all see? The Orlandos might be celebrating an event which dates back to the days of Montezuma. Something that nobody outside of the Orlando family knows anything at all about.”
    Honey shivered for the third time, and Di shivered, too. “Oh, please,” they begged Trixie. “Don’t be so mysterious. What do you mean by ‘something’?”
    Trixie narrowed her blue eyes. “Something,” she finished in a whisper, “so secret and sacred that nobody outside of the Orlando family ever will know anything about itl”

Surprise for Mr. X • 20

    AFTER DELIVERING that ominous statement, Trixie raced out of the kitchen, and all the rest of the day, whenever Di or Honey asked her what she meant, she refused to reply. The truth of the matter was that Trixie didn’t know exactly what she did mean, at least, not so she could express her meaning in words.
    The guests, as Jim predicted, did not object at all when Uncle Monty told them the meals would be served buffet style from then on. In fact, they seemed to like the informality of having the boys and Mrs. Sherman cook, and many of them offered to help the group prepare the meals.
    “I wish they’d offer to help with the housework,” Trixie said sourly to Di when they met between chores before lunch. “I mean, why can t we just make it a rule as of now that all of the guests have to make their own beds?”
    Di laughed because she knew Trixie wasn’t really serious. “I got several letters from home,” she said, changing the subject. “A long one from Mother, some crayon scrawls from the twins, and a note from