The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

of Queens.
    It was a gay and laughing crowd that disembarked, quickly checked the Maine-bound bags, and boarded a bus for the International Arrivals Building. There they huddled together against the rail on the observation deck to watch for a glint of the plane from Paris.
    “Oh, I do hope it’s on time!” Barbara’s feet fairly danced. “Did anyone check?”
    “I glanced at the board as we passed,” Mr. Wheeler told her. “It’s on time.”
    “Doesn’t it seem as though everyone but us is going to some strange place in the world?” Trixie mourned. “See all that crowd down there! See the people in foreign clothes. Look at those Indians, for instance. Look at—great Christopher’s aunt! Mr. Wheeler, hurry, hurry—hurry! Police! Police! It’s Blinky and Pedro and Big Tony! I’m positive! They’re going out to that plane about to take off. Police! Do you see them, Mr. Wheeler?”
    “I do,” Mr. Wheeler answered. “Here’s a policeman, Trixie. Officer! Listen to this young lady and act quickly. It’s a matter of vital importance! Thieves are making a getaway!”
    The policeman, reacting quickly, called the control tower to hold the plane. Trixie, Honey, and their friends watched, fascinated, as far below them a patrol car roared out to the runway. Uniformed men poured out, surrounded the three thieves, and herded them into the waiting car.
    “Jeepers, that’s that!” Trixie cried exultantly. “We have the diamond. Blinky, Big Tony, and Pedro are on their way to jail. Now, Mr. Wheeler, we’ll see what they have to say at the police station when we go back to the city.... Heavenly day, where’s the plane from Paris with the Wellingtons?”
    “We’ve missed them,” Ned said. “The plane was due several minutes ago. How could we help missing them in all this excitement? But we can find them at the baggage pickup. Boy, is this a day! Stand over there, Trixie, facing the sun. Honey, too, I want to take a picture of the best girl detectives in the United States of America!”
    “Don’t forget that we almost lost this case,” Trixie said modestly. “Why not have everyone in the picture? That means all the Bob-Whites and Mr. Wheeler and Miss Trask. Ned, you’ll be the only one missing.”
    “I don’t care about that,” Ned said and clicked the camera. “What makes you look so serious all of a sudden, Trixie?” He looked at Trixie curiously.
    “The plane’s wings shining in the sunlight down there,” Trixie answered, “like silver!”
    “The last part of the prophecy!” Honey exclaimed. “Oh, Trixie!”
    “You’re right.” Trixie quoted:

“All is not lost, though, little friend;
Rejoice, for peril, danger end
Near silver wings, past river’s bend.
Fortune is yours, fit for a king,
And hearts of little children sing.”

    “Wow!” Bob cried. “If that doesn’t mean a reward and that station wagon for the handicapped kids, I miss my guess. Hurrah for the Mexican woman!”
    “I hope Trixie and Honey do get a reward, and I hope they can help buy the wagon for the children,” Miss Trask said, “but I still say—”
    “That it was all a string of coincidences.” Trixie finished Miss Trask’s sentence. “Maybe you’re right, but, jeepers, what if it was? We all had a lot of fun.”
    “Boy, we sure did,” Bob cried. “Our whole visit was tops!”
    “It was too wonderfully wonderful!” Barbara sighed ecstatically. “We’ve had the best time in the whole world! Thanks a million!”
    “That goes for me, too,” Ned echoed. “Holy cow, Barb and Bob, let’s go! We’ll miss our plane!”