The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

after breakfast.”
    “Oh, it won’t take too long if we all pitch in and help, and then we can start working on the let—” Trixie caught herself as she saw Jim shaking his head at her. Celia was just returning from the kitchen with a platter of sausages and a dish of hot corn muffins, and, much as the Bob-Whites liked her, they had decided long ago to keep the affairs of the club to themselves whenever they could.
    “You were saying we’d have to start writing letters home so our parents wouldn’t be worried?” Brian asked.
    “Yes,” said Trixie, glad to be helped out of her predicament by her brother's quick thinking.
    “Miss Trask telephoned Mrs. Belden early this morning,” said Celia, “just as soon as the lines were repaired. She didn’t want to wake you. She told Mrs. Belden we were all safe and asked her to tell Mrs. Lynch, so you don’t have to worry a bit. The Wheelers had already left on their trip, but she sent them a telegram.”
    By the time they had finished breakfast, the rain had stopped. Bright patches of blue began to show through the scudding clouds. It was still quite cold, so they put on sweat shirts and the red B.W.G. jackets Honey had made for all of them and went outside to where the tree had fallen.
    “Jeepers, I don’t see how we can ever move that without a saw,” Trixie said ruefully, looking at the large uprooted tree.
    “Maybe there’s one in the barn. We’ve found just about everything else we needed in there. I’ll go see,” volunteered Honey hopefully.
    “Good idea,” Brian said. “I’ll come with you.” He grabbed Honey’s hand, and they headed for the barn. They were soon back, however, with the only thing they could find—a very small pruning saw.
    “This thing is worse than nothing at all,” moaned Honey, dangling the little saw in front of her. “I do wish we could do something. Tom won’t be able to get a car out of here until that tree’s moved. And that will take a long time.”
    At that moment, Trixie interrupted. “Do you hear something over there on the other side of the wall?” she asked, listening intently.
    From the sound of branches being pushed aside, it appeared that whoever was there was making his way toward The Moorings. They listened closely, and presently over the top of the wall popped a boy’s head. “Hi, strangers. Are you castaways, or are you by any chance from The Moorings?” he asked as he leaped over the wall and landed in their midst.
    “We’re actually from The Moorings, but at the moment we feel like orphans of the storm,” replied Trixie. The others joined in greeting the newcomer. He was as tall as Jim, with broad shoulders and a strong build. His hair was so blond it looked almost white, and his deep-set eyes were dark blue. He, too, was dressed in jeans and sweat shirt.
    “Gosh, that’s great. Not that you’re orphans, you understand, but that you’re at The Moorings.” He laughed. “I’m Peter Kimball from next door. I was hoping we’d have some life around here this summer. The people who rented your house last year were old. All they did all day was sit on the porch and rock.”
    “Well, there was certainly plenty of excitement around here yesterday,” commented Trixie. “El, the caretaker, broke his leg just after we got here. We’re guests of the Wheelers. Jeepers, I’m getting the cart before the horse, as usual,” she said. “I’d better introduce everyone. Peter, this is Honey Wheeler, and this is Diana Lynch. This is Honey’s brother, Jim. I’m Trixie Belden, and these two suspicious-looking characters are my brothers Mart and Brian.”
    “I’ll get all those names straight before the summer’s over. You will be here for the whole summer, won’t you?” he asked hopefully.
    “I’m afraid not,” answered Honey, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Just ten days. That is, the Bob-Whites will be here for ten days. After that, Jim and I may be coming down occasionally for weekends with our parents.”
    She had no sooner said this than she realized she had broken one of the rules of the club in mentioning it to a stranger, but as she looked around, she was relieved to see that the others didn’t seem to be concerned about her slip. As they later discovered when talking it over, they had all taken an immediate liking to their new neighbor.
    “The Bob-Whites, did you say? That sounds like a club. Am I right?” the boy asked with a smile.
    “Well, you are, as a matter of