The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

Ail of them improved with practice and soon were able to plow through the waves and swim out to calmer waters.
    When they began to feel tired, they stretched out on the blankets Ed had brought, luxuriating in the warm sun, which soon dried their hair and suits. Brian and Ed began to talk about medical school, and as Trixie listened, she nearly burst with suppressed excitement.
    “I’ve been awfully lucky so far,” Ed was saying, “what with scholarships and jobs, but, I swear, right now I can’t see how I'll finish my last year unless I take time off for a full-time job.”
    “If you had it to do over again, would you still go in for medicine?” Brian asked him.
    “I’d do it if it took me a lifetime,” he replied. “To my mind, there’s nothing like it, but be prepared for setbacks along the way.”
    Before long, Trixie caught sight of Mrs. Hall coming toward them, loaded down with two large hampers. The boys ran to help her as the girls shook the sand out of the blankets and got a place cleared for the lunch. Mrs. Hall, puffing from the exertion of walking through the shifting sand, greeted them cordially. “I’ve closed the shop for the day,” she declared. “I figure that, with Ed home, I might as well take a real holiday and not worry about business. I do believe it’s been over a year since I’ve had a day off, so I guess I deserve a vacation.”
    She began to unpack the baskets and to spread the paper plates and napkins on the blankets. Mart’s eyes bulged as he surveyed the food. Two large Thermos jugs held piping hot baked beans with frankfurters cut up in them. There were containers of pickles, sliced tomatoes, and cucumbers, and for dessert, an incredible assortment of goodies, including jelly doughnuts. The exercise made them all ravenous, and there was very little food left after they had eaten.
    “I don’t think I can ever move again,” Trixie moaned. “I’ve never eaten so much before in my life.”
    “It s lucky we had our swim before lunch. It’ll take hours to digest all we’ve eaten,” Jim said.
    “Well, while we’re waiting, let’s show Mrs. Hall and Ed what we found,” suggested Trixie, trying to make her voice sound casual.
    Everyone moved into a close circle as Trixie spoke, knowing the time had come to divulge the surprise. She took the letter out of her beach bag and handed it to Mrs. Hall. “Read this, and then we’ll tell you all about it,” she said, her eyes dancing.
    “Why, this looks like my Ed’s writing,” said Mrs. Hall softly, adjusting her glasses and starting to read. “Oh, my goodness, what can this mean? A thousand dollars? Oh, Ed!”
    “What are you talking about, Mother?” her son asked her, leaning over her shoulder to look at the letter. When he had finished reading it, he turned to Trixie, a puzzled expression on his face. “Where did this ever turn up?”
    “We found it the first night we were at The Moorings,” she explained. “It fell out of an old book.”
    “And because my sister is an incorrigible sleuth, she insisted on tracking down the leads until—” Mart was interrupted by a gasp from Mrs. Hall.
    “Don’t tell me she found the chart!” she exclaimed. “Why, I wouldn’t have the faintest notion where to start looking for it.”
    “Trixie found the chart, and this, too!” Honey cried as she produced the black tin box from under the towel where it had been hidden. She handed it to Ed, who looked first at Trixie and then at his mother.
    “Look inside,” urged Jim. “Go ahead. Open it.”
    Mrs. Hall watched, the color draining from her face, as Ed slowly lifted the cover to reveal the money. No one said a word for a moment, until the reality of the situation finally struck home. Then Ed, putting his arm around his mother and drawing her close, said in a low voice, “Now I understand all you ever tried to tell me about my father.”
    Then the tension broke, and everyone started milling around, talking and laughing and telling about the many frustrations they had encountered before they found the money. Mrs. Hall kept saying over and over, “I can’t believe it.”
    Ed, holding the box tightly, as though to reassure himself that it was real, tried his best to thank Trixie and the Bob-Whites.
    “Honestly, we don’t need any thanks,” Trixie told him. “You don’t know how much we all wanted to find it when we heard about your plans for next year.”
    “Trixie’s right,” Jim joined in. “Just knowing