The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

you’re right,” Brian agreed. Trixie heard him say under his breath to Jim, “I didn’t like that odd telephone call this morning... no one on the line.”
    Trixie couldn’t hear what Jim answered. She had no time to ask, however, because the others were on their way up the stairs. At different levels, there were pictures of the sculptor Bartholdi and the different stages in the development of the statue and its site.
    “Boy, is that a view!” Bob said as they went out to the first balcony. “See the midget tugs and—gosh —look at the country all around here!”
    “Yes. You can see Manhattan, of course, and Jersey City, over there.” Brian pointed them out. “Brooklyn, Hoboken—what are you laughing at, Ned?”
    “Some of the names. Hoboken is funny-sounding. So is Weehawken. And Tonawanda. Spuyten Duyvil... there’s a doozer for you!”
    “I suppose you think some of the Iowa names didn’t sound funny to us—Pottawattamie, Maquoketa, Winneshiek....” Jim smiled.
    “Maybe they do sound odd if you aren’t used to them,” Ned agreed. “They’re all Indian names.”
    “So are the New York State names... all except Spuyten Duyvil. It’s Dutch. It means just what it sounds like—‘spite the devil.’ ”
    “Are you two going to sit down and discuss semantics, or are we going to have fun?” Mart asked.
    “If that’s what we’re discussing, we’ll stop it right now,” Ned said. “I’ll have to ask Bob the meaning of that word.”
    “Never mind. He tripped me up once, and that’s enough,” Mart said. “It’s one hundred and sixty-eight steps up to the next balcony. Who wants to go?”
    “I do,” Trixie said quickly.
    “So do we!” the rest of the group called. But when Diana saw the narrow spiral stairway, she hung back from the others.
    “Oh, come on, Di!” Trixie begged. “If you don’t go, we’ll have to stay down here. Jim will go ahead of you and one of the other boys right back of you. It’s not so bad.”
    It wasn’t too bad, but Diana was shaking when she reached the top. She clung to Mart’s arm as they walked around the small balcony.
    “I’ll bet we can see as far as Des Moines!” Barbara exclaimed breathlessly. “Which direction is Westchester County?”
    “You can’t really see it now,” Brian explained. “It’s way over there past the tip of Manhattan. You’d better tie your scarf, Barbara. There’s really a wind up here.”
    “Everything’s so gorgeous, I don’t mind the wind,” Barbara cried, standing on tiptoe. “See all those people streaming from the ferry. There must be thousands of visitors on this island now... and thousands of boats and barges and steamships and everything out there in the bay. They all look like beetles—even the big steamships!”
    “Manhattan looks like something I used to build with blocks,” Bob said. “Gosh, it’s great!”
    “I doubt if people in Manhattan would use that comparison to describe it,” Trixie said. “It shines like a diamond necklace, seen from here, though. That’s Ellis Island over north of us.”
    For a long time, the Iowans, engrossed, watched the movement in the water far below. Finally, reluctantly, they were aware that it was time to leave.
    “The ferry is just backing away from Battery Park on its way over here. If we want to get it going back, we’d better scram down these stairs,” Mart said.
    “And knock over a hundred people coming up?” Jim asked. “Watch your step, everybody!”
    The Bob-Whites and their visitors crowded as far over to one side of the steps as they could. When they reached the lower balcony, they had to wait nearly ten minutes before they had a chance to go on down the stairs. Then they raced to the ferry, which puffed importantly while it waited.
    As they lined up along the rail on the return trip, four sturdy tugs escorted a huge Cunard liner across the bay. Streamers of curled paper still trailed from its promenade deck, tributes from friends who had seen passengers off on a cruise. The band on deck played loudly, and, as the big ship slowly passed the small ferry, the passengers shouted and waved.
    It was after one o’clock when the ferry stopped.
    “I’m starving,” Honey announced. “Shall we have our lunch at a restaurant in Battery Park?”
    “You mean not go to that place where we can dance?” Barbara’s voice sounded disappointed.
    “Of course we’ll dance!” Jim assured her. “Here’s a candy bar to keep you from starving,