The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

An Unexpected Invitation • 1

    OH, MOMS, do you know what?” exclaimed Trixie as she dashed into the kitchen, letting the screen door slam behind her and almost knocking a lemon pie out of Mrs. Belden’s hands.
    Her mother carefully put the pie, piled high with golden meringue, out of the way in the pantry, and then, straightening her apron, she smiled fondly at her daughter and said, “Yes, I know what: Another step and you would have had no pie for supper tonight! Now, try to calm down and tell me what has you so excited that you’d risk ruining your favorite dessert.” Trixie pushed back the sandy curls from her damp forehead and, taking a deep breath, said, “Mrs. Wheeler has invited the Bob-Whites to the beach for ten days!”
    “To the beach!” said Mrs. Belden. “How wonderful! Tell me all about it.”
    As she spoke, she brought over a bowl of cherries and sat down next to Trixie, who had collapsed into a chair at the big, round kitchen table.
    Trixie popped a cherry into her mouth. Her eyes were snapping with excitement. “Well, the Wheelers rented a house on Cobbett’s Island for weekends this summer so Mr. Wheeler could go deep-sea fishing. Then last week he found out he has to go to Brazil on business, and he wants Mrs. Wheeler to go with him.”
    “Yes, she told me yesterday she hoped she’d be able to go, because she’s never been to South America,” Mrs. Belden said, “but she didn’t say anything about the invitation.”
    “I guess South America is the only place she hasn’t been, unless it’s the South Pole.” Trixie laughed. “She probably didn’t mention the plans because they weren’t definite until today.” She reached for more cherries as she continued. “Anyway, the Bob-Whites were all up at the clubhouse this afternoon, trying to think of something to do now that school is out.”
    “Well, the Bob-Whites usually find something to keep them busy and stir up a lot of excitement, too,” her mother commented. She smiled warmly.
    “I know we do. I guess it all started when Honey and I found Jim in the Mansion. A lot’s happened since then,” said Trixie, reminiscing.
    “It certainly has,” agreed Mrs. Belden, “but get back to the invitation.”
    “Well, Moms, we couldn’t seem to think of any new projects for our club, and we were all getting kind of f rust—f rusted—’ ’
    “You mean ‘frustrated,’ don’t you, dear? You’re beginning to sound just like Mart with those big words.” Mrs. Belden’s eyes twinkled with amusement.
    “As a matter of fact, it was Mart who said we were all getting kind of frustrated and that we’d all better go up to Honey’s house and have something to eat so we could think better. You know how food is usually Mart’s solution to a problem.” She giggled.
    Mart, Trixie’s brother, was fifteen, eleven months older than Trixie. He looked so much like her that he was sometimes taken for her twin. In the last year, he had begun to grow so fast that his wrists always seemed to be hanging too far out of his sleeves, but he still had the same sturdy build as his sister, the same sandy hair and blue eyes. Mrs. Belden smiled, for well she knew how all the Bob-Whites loved to eat, not just Mart, although he was probably the most ravenous of the group. Only yesterday her cookie crock had been emptied when all seven members of the B.W.G.’s, as they called themselves, had stopped at Crabapple Farm on their way home from their last day at school before vacation.
    Besides Mart, Trixie, and her oldest brother, Brian, the other members of the secret club were Honey Wheeler and her adopted brother, Jim Frayne, Diana Lynch, and Dan Mangan. All lived near each other a few miles outside the small Westchester County town of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, and all attended the same junior-senior high school.
    “Well, just as we were eating some yummy brownies,” continued Trixie, “Mrs. Wheeler came in and said she had some news for us. Honey, who seemed just as mystified as the rest of us, asked her mother what it was all about, and then she told us! Can you imagine?”
    “I think that’s wonderful,” said Mrs. Belden, “and I can see no reason why you and your brothers can’t go if—”
    The “if” was smothered by Trixie’s grabbing her mother and giving her a bear hug.
    “Where is Mart, by the way?” asked Mrs. Belden. “And Brian? Where is he?”
    “Oh, Brian’s out in the barn working on that old rattletrap car he towed