The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

it.”
    “Then why are there words on this paper like grito? It means ‘cry.’ And ladrones , which means ‘thieves’?” Honey looked at the paper more closely. “Here’s riesgo , which surely means ‘danger.’ ”
    “Pistolas, too, Honey. That means ‘guns,’ doesn’t it? Here’s the word malvado, too. I’m pretty sure that means ‘bad man’ or ‘villain.’ ”
    “You’re right. Trixie, I know now why my mother and father are always telling me I should know one foreign language fairly well.”
    “That’s because you’ll probably go to Europe with them soon. You know French. Just think how you ordered for all of us in that French restaurant.”
    “Oh, that! Anyone could do that. Just look at me now... an exciting piece of paper in front of us, and I can’t get any sense out of it at all because I don’t know the Spanish language. Say, wait a minute... Miss Trask speaks Spanish almost as well as she does English.”
    “I know that. What good will it do us right now, though, to know that Miss Trask can figure out what this paper is all about? She’s sound asleep. It’s one o’clock... a million hours till morning, when we can ask her what that Mexican woman meant.”
    Honey folded the paper and replaced it in Trixie’s straw purse. “Right there it’s going to stay until morning, when Miss Trask can help us with it. Let’s go to bed, Trixie.”
    “I can’t stand to go to bed. I don’t think you can, either, Honey Wheeler, even if you do act so calm. Have we ever in our lives had anything like this happen to us? Have we?” Trixie’s voice rose in excitement as she spoke.
    “No, we haven’t,” Honey admitted. “It’s the middle of the night, though, Trixie. Don’t you understand? You never could wait for anything.”
    Trixie smiled. “Maybe I don’t have to wait for this, either. Did you hear Miss Trask’s door open?”
    Honey didn’t have time to answer before a light knock sounded on their door. “Come in, Miss Trask!” she invited.
    “I heard your voices. You sounded upset about something. What can it be to have kept you awake so long?” Miss Trask closed the door silently and approached the girls.
    “It’s this.” Trixie showed her the paper.
    “Hmmm... sort of odd couplets, aren’t they? Where did you get this piece of paper?”
    “It was in that straw handbag the Mexican woman gave me. It’s very important, I know. She told me the purse would mean a fortune. Jeepers, Miss Trask, if you can make any sense out of this, tell me quickly or I’ll die!”
    “Calm down, Trixie. You’re so dramatic.” Miss Trask smiled at Trixie’s enthusiasm.
    Honey sat down on the bed next to the older woman. “Do translate it if you can,” she begged. “There are words in it that frighten us.”
    “Maybe they are frightening words, but I know, somehow, the Mexican woman meant good fortune for me,” Trixie added.
    Miss Trask glanced again at the paper, then started to speak.
    “Please, darling Miss Trask, don’t ask us to wait till morning,” Honey begged. “If you do, you can just figure on putting Trixie in the hospital at sunrise. She’ll never be able to bear it. I won’t, either.”
    “Now who is being as dramatic as Trixie?” Miss Trask inquired. “Just sit quietly, both of you, for about fifteen minutes, and I’ll see what I can do. I’m so wide-awake I can’t sleep. I might as well try to do what you want me to do.”
    “Isn’t she marvelous?” Honey whispered under her breath.
    “Heavenly!” Trixie agreed.
    They both sat without making a sound, without even moving a muscle, while Miss Trask found a pencil and paper on their bedroom desk. She read. Then she wrote. She wrinkled her forehead, puzzled. She wrote again, hastily and easily for a while. Then she sat, puzzled, turned the paper over, and scribbled some more. Half an hour passed. The girls still waited without speaking.
    “Does this make any sense at all to you?” Miss Trask finally asked, and read:

“Great-headed man, with blinking eye,
A shaded road, a horse’s cry,
Foreign words for all to hear,
First clue is now so very near.
Watch out for thieves; they’re everywhere,
At home, on island, dead beasts’ lair.
Where shines a beacon ’cross the sky,
Beware, great danger lurks close by.
Be not misled by evening’s fun;
A villain’s work is never done.
When guitars play, thieves linger ’round,
But not till later are they found.
Twin rails of steel, a trembling square,
Watch