The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

dolls, household utensils, and clothes, and the group spent a lot of time examining the harpoons, scrimshaw work, ship models, and pictures of the whaling trade. There was so much to see that they were all surprised when the custodian told them it was closing time.
    “Jeepers!” Trixie exclaimed as they were heading home. “We’ve got enough material for sixty school papers, just from what we’ve seen today.”
    “Maybe next year you can manage to improve your English marks without running to me for help, dear sister,” Mart quipped.
    “Oh, I could never do without my walking encyclopedia,” Trixie chuckled. “Please don’t desert me now!”

The Chart and the Compass • 16

    WHEN TRIXIE AWOKE the next morning, it was quite dark in her room. She looked at the little clock on the bedside table and was surprised to see it was already eight-thirty. Di was still sleeping soundly, so Trixie tiptoed to the window and quietly pulled back the curtains. Then she understood why the room had seemed so shadowy and dim. A thick fog hung over the harbor and enveloped the house. It was so dense that she couldn’t see the dock across the road or even the hedge in front of the house.
    Jeepers! she said -to herself. This is fine weather for trying to follow a chart on land or sea.
    When she heard Honey stirring in the adjoining room, she went in to tell her the sad news about the weather. “And do you realize that tomorrow is the day we’re supposed to leave for home?” Trixie reminded her. “So it’s now or never, no matter what the weather. Come on, lazybones; get a move on!”
    Honey sat up in bed and stretched her arms high above her head, muttering through a yawn, “Who was it who said this was going to be a quiet vacation?”
    Trixie laughingly threw a pillow at her and went to wake Diana and the boys.
    “Well, as the plot thickens, so does the fog,” Mart chuckled as they met for breakfast. “Do you intend to pursue your will-o’-the-wisp in this weather, dear leader?” he asked his sister.
    “It’s not the least bit will-o’-the-wispish, Mart Belden,” snapped Trixie angrily, “and if you don’t want to help, you don’t have to. You can drop out right now!”
    “Oh, you know he won’t quit,” said Diana, quickly coming to Mart’s defense. “You ought to be used to his teasing by now, Trix.”
    “Oh, I’m used to it, all right, and you know—”she paused, thought a minute, and then continued—“the reason I get mad is probably because sometimes his remarks have a grain of truth in them that I’ve refused to face up to.”
    As she said this, she smiled fondly at her brother. Mart was so surprised at this unaccustomed response that he dropped his fork and was glad of an excuse to dive under the table to retrieve it.
    “You don’t mean you think we’re foolish to keep looking, do you, Trix?” Jim asked apprehensively.
    “No, of course not. It’s just that—well, we mustn’t let ourselves expect too much, or we’ll be awfully disappointed if we don’t find the money. You know, today is our last day,” Trixie pointed out.
    “Well, then, let’s get on with it and hope our efforts pay off,” suggested Brian.
    After breakfast, as Honey was phoning Peter that they were on their way, Trixie called out, “Tell him to bring a compass if he has one. We may need it.”
    “We’d better take a flashlight so we won’t get run down—if anyone is foolish enough to drive in this pea soup,” added Jim.
    “Well, I can see my hand in front of my face, but that’s about ail,” said Honey as they went outside.
    “Just follow along the hedge, and we’ll soon come to Pete’s gate,” said Jim, taking the lead.
    “Righto, old chap,” Mart said in his best imitation of an English accent. “This is just like jolly old England. Chin up. Pip, pip!”
    Peter was waiting for them near the entrance to the garden, and together they slowly made their way toward the gazebo. “This fog will probably burn off in a few hours,” he said hopefully. “It’s a good thing we haven’t got a race scheduled today.”
    “It doesn’t help us any, either, but it certainly lends a ghostly atmosphere,” Honey said with a shiver. “Where do we go from here?”
    “The next mark after the spire is the rock, and it’s southwest from here,” Trixie noted, “but it doesn’t say how far.”
    “Maybe it’s one of the stones in the slave cemetery,” Diana suggested. “What direction would that