The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

can I ever thank all of you Bob-Whites for your help?”
    “ ‘He is well paid who is well satisfied,’ as Mr. Shakespeare once put it,” Jim replied.
    “We certainly don’t need any thanks,” Trixie added. “Jim’s right. The whole thing has really been fun.”
    “Besides the money we made, the party helped publicize the Library Fund,” Mrs. Kimball went on. “Several people told me they hadn’t been especially interested in the building until they saw the model. Now they intend to make a substantial donation. Now, tell me, what have you planned for tomorrow? You deserve a day of rest after the way you’ve worked.”
    Trixie, not wanting to divulge their plan of further work on the chart, told her they’d probably spend the day on the beach or looking around the island.
    “And we must go and call on El. We’ve neglected him since his. accident,” Jim added.

    The Bob-Whites had been so busy at the tea that even Mart hadn’t found time to eat any of the delicious cakes or cookies, so by dinner time they were all starved. Since Miss Trask hadn’t known what time they would be home from the party, she had suggested that the cook prepare a cold supper for them. A large bowl of potato salad, assorted sliced meats, coleslaw, and dessert were waiting for them on the buffet.
    “Let’s take trays out on the porch,” suggested Honey, when they had all served themselves. “It’ll soon be time for the sunset, and it should be another beauty.”
    As they ate, they watched the sky in the west change from a purple blue to rose, orange, and red as the sun sank behind the yacht club across the bay. They discussed the party at length and found that, although they all had been on the lookout for strange visitors, no one had seen anything suspicious.
    Just as they were finishing, they saw Peter loping down the road toward The Moorings. “Hi, neighbors. Long time no see,” he called out as he came up the porch steps, two at a time.
    “No, it’s been ages,”. Trixie answered. “Ail of two hours!”
    “What brings you to the hallowed halls of Wheeler?” Mart asked as he passed the last remaining piece of orange cake to Peter.
    “Well, I hate to admit it, but I’m in a jam,” Peter answered, flinging himself into a wicker chaise lounge. “I need help.”
    “Gleeps, Peter, you sound desperate. What’s up? You know you can always count on us,” Trixie said.
    “Oh, it’s not a matter of life and death, so relax,” he told them, smiling, “but I got a phone call just now from Brad Cummings. He and his brother are my regular crew. He told me they can’t get down here until next week, because he has to take some kind of exam for college, and the tune-up races are tomorrow morning. So...”
    “You don’t mean you want us to go?” Trixie asked. “We’ve only been out that once with you. We couldn’t possibly be any good in a regular race.”
    “In the first place, it isn’t a regular race, so simmer down,” he told her. “It’s just a warmer-upper. Besides, from what Cap tells me and what I saw the other day, all of you acted like able-bodied seamen, even if you are new hands.”
    They all expressed their willingness to help out, and Jim and Trixie were finally delegated to go with Peter.
    “Trixie, you can handle the spinnaker, because you’re lighter than Jim and won’t upset the balance of the boat so much when you go forward to set the sail.” Peter was full of enthusiasm, but Trixie was still quite apprehensive.
    “The spinnaker! I’ve never even seen one outside a sail bag, let alone put one up. I’d simply die if I didn’t do it right,” she moaned.
    “I’ll tell you what,” Peter said reassuringly. “We’ll go over to my house, and I’ll show you a book that describes the whole operation. It’s really not difficult at ail—you’ll see.”
    “May the rest of us come along, too?” Brian asked. “We might as well learn the tricks of the trade while we have a chance.”
    “Sure thing,” Peter replied. “The more the merrier, and we can look at the movies Dad took of some of the races last summer.”
    After taking their trays inside, they headed for Peter’s house. By the end of the evening, Trixie felt a little more confident. As they were walking back to The Moorings, Jim gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
    “Don’t worry, Trix; you can do anything you put your mind to. You know I think you’re super!” he said.
    For once in her life, Trixie was speechless.