The Mystery of the Ghostly Galeon

From its half-opened lid there sprawled a rope of gleaming pearls.
    Propped against the chest was a grinning skeleton dressed in the clothes of a pirate chief.
    In one bony hand he held a cutlass. In the other, he held a pistol. A dagger was stuck into the belt of his black trousers; the mace lay across his skinny lap.
    “Oh, Trixie,” Di gasped, “do you think it’s Captain Trask?”
    Then, as they stood rooted to the spot, the skeleton opened its hideous mouth—and laughed.
    Terrified, Honey and Di clung to each other and stared at the maker of the ghastly sound.
    Even Mr. Appleton’s dummy was affected by the skeleton’s dreadful laughter. Momentarily unnerved, Mart relaxed his grip. For the second time that evening, Clarence dropped with a dull thud to the ground.
    Honey and Di were beginning to feel that nothing had the power to astonish them anymore that night. They were wrong.
    It seemed almost as though they were under the spell of some evil genius as they watched Clarence’s head slowly detach itself from his unprotesting body. It seemed like fate when it rolled to the skeleton’s feet.
    But neither of them expected Trixie to walk casually forward to pick it up.
    “I’ve been trying to tell you,” she said, turning to face them. “It’s a fake.”
    Di still hadn’t recovered from the shock. “What’s a fake?” she asked. “Are you talking about the dummy?”
    “Of course not,” Trixie answered impatiently. “I mean the cave, the ghostly voices, the sound of the sea—all of this.” Holding Clarence’s head in one hand, she gestured with it to indicate their surroundings.
    “We guessed as much,” Mart said slowly, “but all the same, you’ve got to admit the whole thing is wonderfully spooky.”
    “I don’t know how it all works,” Brian said, “but I’ll bet there’s some kind of electronic gimmick or something. I expect it’s all turned on whenever anyone walks in here.”
    “How did you know, Trixie?” Honey asked.
    “I got to thinking,” Trixie answered, “and I guess the boys did, too. I realized that none of this whole situation rang true. When our flashlight went out, we shouldn’t have been able to see a thing. Instead of that, the walls began to glow as if someone wanted to lead us here. Besides, it was all too easy. We didn’t even have to search very far to find the cave.”
    “I wonder if they have that special lighting in here, too,” Honey said suddenly. “If so, maybe the rocks as well as the galleon have been painted with fluorescent paint.”
    “The light could be coming from somewhere outside,” Dan said uncertainly.
    At that moment, Brian, who had been exploring, said, “No, I was right. The whole thing seems to be activated by a series of trip wires and switches. There even seems to be some sort of tape machine to give the sound effects. It’s all hidden over here, behind this rock.”
    Mart stared down at the paper containing the clues to the treasure. “And I suppose there’s one of these hidden somewhere in every room at the inn, too. Jeepers, it really had me going!”
    “You know what this reminds me of?” Di said. “It’s just like one of those big amusement parks where they feature attractions like the Tunnel of Love—”
    “Or in this case, the Pirate’s Cave,” Mart broke in bitterly.
    “But I still don’t understand,” Jim said. “Who’s gone to the trouble of setting up such an elaborate joke?”
    “Oh, I’m sure it’s no joke,” Trixie assured him. “I bet we’ll find that this was all Mr. Trask’s idea. I expect it’s another one of his tourist attractions. He’s fixed this up to give the place—“
    “Atmosphere,” Honey finished, grinning.
    Trixie nodded. “And Di’s right, I think. It is like one of those places where you have to pay admission to get in. Maybe, during the summer, they have tour guides and everything.”
    “But how about the treasure?” Di asked, still disappointed.
    “Yeah, how about that?” Mart asked.
    Trixie hesitated, then walked to the treasure chest and flipped open its lid. “Come and look,” she invited, grinning.
    The Bob-Whites crowded around.
    “Well, I’ll be a simian’s sibling!” Mart exclaimed. “They look just like doubloons!”
    Honey giggled as Trixie announced grandly, “It is chocolate! It is not very good chocolate, because I”—she thumped her chest with Clarence’s head—“did not make it myself.”
    Clarence smiled patiently as Trixie and