The Mystery of the Castaway Children

window overlooking the rose garden Grandma Belden had planted years ago, to fill out her report.
    “Sex, male. Name, unknown,” she said aloud.
    “Wrong,” Bobby said. “His name’s Moses Bob-White.”
    Miss Goodley fluttered a slim hand. “But I thought—”
    “We named him, Miss Goodley,” Trixie explained quickly.
    “Moses Bob-White, you say?” Miss Goodley shook her long blond hair. Trixie was standing close enough to the social worker to see that she was careful to write the name with both quotation marks and question marks.
    Miss Goodley looked over the rest of the house and talked to Mrs. Belden about feeding schedules, sunshine, and rest. “I’d limit his playtime till he’s stronger,” she decided. “But he obviously feels loved here, and that’s the best medicine. I’m sure I can get approval for you to keep him another day or two, until the police have more leads about his identity.”
    Then she was gone, and the Belden family breathed a sigh of relief.
    Jim was about to leave to finish his stable chores, when Honey burst in upon the group in the kitchen. “You’re leaving me out!” she accused breathlessly.
    “Since when do you get up at this hour, Sis?” Jim inquired.
    “I wanted to see the baby being fed,” Honey wailed.
    “That was a long time ago. He’s asleep again,” Bobby told her. “Moses sleeps an awful lot.”
    “Look who’s talking,” Mart put in. “And, speaking of the passage of time, isn’t it time that you ’tire yourself in suitable raiment for the exigencies of the day?”
    I’m not tired,” Bobby said sturdily.
    “I think he means get dressed,” Trixie told Bobby, who needed just as much help as she did with Mart’s outlandish language.
    Honey begged for a peek at Moses, and Trixie led her to the guest room. The baby whimpered and moved restlessly in his sleep, kicking off the light coverlet.
    “How did he get his stomach so dirty?” Honey whispered.
    “Those are bruises,” Trixie told her.
    “Oh, no!” Honey looked horrified.
    “Oh, yes!” Trixie said fiercely. “We simply have to find that baby’s parents, Honey.”
    “But the police—” Honey began.
    Trixie’s blue eyes rounded with determination. “I’m going to give this case all my time.” When Honey said nothing, Trixie amended, “Well, as much time as I can spare from helping with Moses, and of course, helping Moms, and keeping track of Bobby... and feeding the chickens—oh, jeepers! Do you realize there are forty old biddies out there cackling their heads off because I haven’t fed them?”
    “Come on, I’ll help,” said Honey, giving her friend a push.
    “Gleeps, Honey,” said Trixie as they were welcomed by the hungry chickens, “for someone who has a jillion servants and is as beautiful as you are, it’s sure weird that you don’t mind doing farm tasks.”
    Honey giggled. “Oh, Trixie, you’re exaggerating again,” she said. “I’m not beautiful, and I don’t have a jillion servants. Besides, I’m sure even beautiful people like to help their friends.”
    That was certainly true in Honey’s case, Trixie thought fondly. She’d earned her nickname for her golden brown hair and melting brown eyes, as well as for the genuine sweetness of her disposition. Honey and Di were both very pretty, but Honey was more practical.
    Trixie knew herself to be both like and unlike Honey and Di. She was more impetuous than Honey, outdoorsy and healthy-looking rather than beautiful, and more practical than either of her wealthier friends. Trixie’s grades were not as good as Honey’s, but Di considered her a “brain.” Trixie worked hard, not because she really liked to get her hands dirty, but because that was how it was, being a Belden of Crabapple Farm. She liked people and had an insatiable curiosity about the tangled lives they led.
    Honey was very familiar with Trixie’s curiosity. “What’s our next step in finding Moses’ parents?” she asked. “I’m sure you’ve got something up your sleeve.”
    “You’ll see,” promised Trixie.

One Iron Nail ● 4

    TRIXIE AND HONEY returned to the house after feeding the chickens to find Mrs. Belden sorting the laundry.
    “I’ll finish in here,” she told Trixie, “while you make up the beds. Let’s see... by that time, Moses will be awake. Bobby will be glad to just sit and talk to that baby. Oh, Di called to say she’ll take the two o’clock feeding. Now, -I we’ll have sandwiches for lunch, and