The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

aroma of the clambake was the only invitation anyone needed to start eating. Plates were piled high, first with steamed clams and lobsters slathered with melted butter from the bowls laid out on tables here and there around the pit. Chicken and vegetables would come later.
    Mart was in seventh heaven. Peter’s prediction was quickly being proved right, and he was being filled up at a great rate!
    “Don’t forget there’s still chicken, corn, and potatoes,” warned Peter as Mart went up to get a third helping of clams.
    “Is that a warning or a suggestion?” Mart asked, laughing.
    “I don’t want you to miss the best part,” Peter answered him, “but I guess you’ll manage without any cues from me.”
    The other Bob-Whites were managing about as well as Mart. “Have you ever tasted such delicious food?” Trixie exclaimed. “Fm about ready to burst, but I’m going to have one more ear of corn if it kills me!”
    Honey and Di, who had already eaten their fill, started out with Peter and Brian for a walk down the beach. “We’ll come along, too, in a few minutes,” Trixie called after them, “if we can manage to get on our feet.”
    When everyone had finished eating, more driftwood was put on the coals in the pit, and soon a cheery fire encouraged the guests to sing. A circle was formed, and Cap brought out his accordion and played all the old favorite songs. Trixie, who, during the stroll on the beach, had been thinking about Captain Clark and his yarns, managed to get a seat next to him and, when a lull came in the songfest, said, “What about the menhaden boats, Captain Clark? Did you ever go out on them?”
    “Yes, young lady. The last time I sailed on a trans-atlantic boat, I had an experience that made me decide never to go across the ocean again, but that’s another story,” he mused, his eyes looking dreamily into the fire. “But I couldn’t seem to find anything on land that I fancied, not after so many years at sea, so I started going out on the bunker boats. It wasn’t a hard life. I knew the waters hereabouts like the palm of my hand, and the crew did all the hard work, so I continued to go out for several years.” He paused and then rather abruptly said, “How’d you happen to ask about the bunker boats, young lady?”
    Trixie told him she was staying at The Moorings, and that she could see the boats from her window there and had found herself fascinated by them.
    “You’re in the old Condon place, then,” the Captain continued, eyeing her quizzically. “Well, that reminds me of something that happened—let me see, it must have been eighteen or twenty years ago. It was in the winter. We’d started out in good weather, and the fish were running out beyond Montauk. We’d worked two or three days, and the holds were just about filled with fish, when it began to sleet and snow. The winds blew harder and harder, and I soon saw we were in for a real blow. I gave orders to batten down the hatches and prepared to ride it out, not thinking it would last very long. But it stormed like fury all day and all night. The Seas got higher and higher, and, although I tried to make some headway, I couldn’t keep her on course. I began to think we’d end up on the rocks at the end of the point. That was before the bunker boats had radios. I don’t suppose we could see more than twenty feet in front of us; the snow and sleet were that thick. Ail we could do was blow our foghorn to warn any other ship that might be near us. We were pretty helpless.
    “Suddenly, out of nowhere, we saw it—another bunker boat coming toward us out of the night. As the lookout yelled, ‘Ship ahoy,’ I instinctively spun the pilot wheel around to ward off the blow, but it was too late. Even though the other boat tried to move off in the other direction, we couldn’t avoid the collision. We rammed into her side amidships, a little above the w aterline but right where the engine room was. It was a good thing I could reverse our engines and pull off, because fire broke out almost immediately. I’ve never seen anything spread so fast. The crew tried to fight it at first, but the captain soon saw it was hopeless and gave orders for his men to abandon ship.
    “I worked our boat around to their windward side. There was enough breeze blowing to keep the heat and smoke from that part of the ship, and the men jumped across to our deck. Everyone was relieved when the captain himself came across, for we thought that