The Mystery of the Ghostly Galeon

didn’t care if she never ever read another Lucy Radcliffe adventure.
    Dan Mangan solemnly nodded his dark head. “How long will it take us to get to Pirate’s Point?” he asked.
    “Miss Trask says it’ll take us less than two hours,” Honey told him. “Apparently it’s not all that far away.”
    “Well, it all sounds perfectly perfect to me,” declared Di Lynch, her violet eyes shining. With the curtain of long, dark hair that framed her pretty face, she was, Trixie always thought, the best-looking girl in the ninth grade.
    “Just think,” Di continued. “We’re going to an old inn, and already there’s a mystery for Trixie to solve—”
    “And what else could we wish for?” Honey added happily.
    Trixie could think of something else to wish for, but she bit back the reply that sprang to her lips. She looked bitterly across at Mart, but he avoided her eye.
    “I have to admit,” Dan said, “that our trip today sounds almost too good to be true. I still can’t believe I’ve got this whole weekend off. I keep on feeling I should be back home, helping with the chores.”
    Trixie remembered the time when Dan had not been the happy boy he was today. Once he had lived in the city. There he had gotten in with the wrong crowd; then his uncle, Bill Regan, had brought him to Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson. Now Dari lived and worked with the Wheelers’ gamekeeper, Mr. Maypenny.
    “All right, then,” Brian said briskly. “Everything’s all set. Are there any more questions?” Mart rose slowly to his feet. “I’ve got a question to ask,” he said. “It’s kind of important.“
    “Come on, then! Out with it!” Brian exclaimed impatiently.
    Mart hesitated as he looked up at last and caught Trixie’s eye. She held her breath when she saw the sheepish look on his face.
    Why, she thought with astonishment, I do believe my almost-twin is sorry about our quarrel last night. He’s going to ask me to forgive him for being so mean.
    At that moment, however, Jerry Vanderhoef, at the next table, leaned toward them. “For crying out loud, Belden!” he yelled. “What’s the question? My friends and I can’t wait to hear it.” He waved a casual hand at the group of grinning students who were just taking their places around him.
    At first, Mart stiffened. Then the expression on his face changed as he grinned back at them. “Never let it be said that Mart the Magnificent would disappoint an audience,” he answered, with a sweeping bow. “This is the question: You’re standing in a house. There are windows on all four sides of it. Every window faces south. Suddenly, a bear walks by. What color is the bear?”
    Jerry looked incredulous. “That’s it? That’s the important question?”
    “Sure,” Mart answered. “What else would it be?” Then he hurried away to join the food line.
    Di chuckled. “Oh, that Mart! He’s always clowning around. What color was the bear, anyway?”
    “Don’t look at me,” Dan said, backing away in mock horror. “I don’t have any idea.”
    “Me, either,” Honey added. “Riddles never were my best subject.”
    “In that case,” Jim said, smiling, “I guess we’ve just found another puzzle for Trixie, to solve. You know, gang, if it weren’t for our female sleuth here, we wouldn’t have half the fun we do.”
    Suddenly Trixie felt better as she smiled back at her loyal friends. As her spirits lifted, she made herself a silent promise. In the days to come, she would do her best not to get so upset at Mart’s teasing.
    Meanwhile, there was much to look forward to. It was Friday. It was a beautiful day. She was about to leave on an exciting trip. And she had a brand-new Lucy Radcliffe adventure to read.
    Honey slipped her hand through her friend’s arm. “Trix,” she said, “do you know what color the bear was?”
    Trixie grinned at her. “Nope,” she said cheerfully, “I haven’t the foggiest notion. But I’ll tell you one thing, Honey. I’ll figure it out if it’s the last thing I do!”
    She sighed happily. Di was right. It was going to be a perfectly perfect weekend, after all—she hoped.

Mart’s Ghost ● 3

    AFTER THAT, everything seemed to go better for Trixie. Once lunch was over, the minutes seemed to fly by. When the last bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Trixie could hardly credit her own good luck. Her teachers had given her no weekend homework.
    “I simply don’t believe it,” Trixie told Honey as the two girls hurried