The Mystery on the Mississippi

popping.
    “Yes, Miss Now-or-Never, I will. I’ll see if I can reach him. Go on into the dining room, and I’ll stop at the phone booth over there. I’ll join you later.”
    “Boy, are we ever lucky!” Mart said as they trooped into the dining room. “Seems as though all the Bob-Whites have to do is wish for something, and there it is!”
    “We aren’t on the towboat yet,” Jim reminded him. Trixie held up her crossed fingers. “Nothing, not a thing in this world, is going to keep us from taking that trip!”
    Jim picked up the menu. “All I say is—just wait till we hear what Dad says. I know what I’m going to eat. Barbecued ribs, if they have them. There’s Dad now. We’ll soon know.”
    Mr. Wheeler started shaking his head before he reached the table. Trixie’s spirits hit the floor with a thud. She pushed the menu away. “We’re not going?” she asked Mr. Wheeler.
    “Mr. Thompson sold his interest in the barge line several months ago. Hard luck, Bob-Whites.”
    “Doesn’t he know someone who knows someone who could help us get aboard?” Jim asked. “Did you ask him that, Dad?”
    “Of course I didn’t. I waited for him to offer to do something more about it, and he didn’t. He did tell me that barge lines almost never invite young people as guests. He said they were all over the place and got in all kinds of scrapes. Towboats aren’t pleasure boats, of course.”
    “That’s for sure,” Brian agreed. “Didn’t you tell him the Bob-Whites never mess around in what doesn’t concern them?”
    Mr. Wheeler took off his glasses, put them on the table in front of him, and smiled.
    Jim joined in.
    Then Brian.
    Trixie looked puzzled.
    “You don’t see the joke, do you, Trix?” Mart asked. “Or you, either, Honey?”
    “They all mean that we do mess around in what they think doesn’t concern us,” Honey answered. “I can think of some instances where they’d have been in a lot of trouble if we hadn’t investigated things.”
    “You win there,” Mr. Wheeler said. “I’m not giving up. When dinner’s over, I’ll give Mr. Brandio a ring and see if he can come up with an idea. Right now, let’s order.”

    Mr. Brandio did not have an idea.
    “His mind’s so full of air travel that he doesn’t know people still like to travel on water or land,” Mr. Wheeler told the Bob-Whites.
    Mart kissed his fingers into the air. “There goes a pipe dream!”
    Honey sighed. “Oh, dear. Think hard , Daddy. You know so many people.”
    “I am thinking hard. The trouble with you, Honey, is that you think I’m a magician, that all I have to do to accomplish something is to wave a wand.”
    “You’ve waved a lot of wands for us Bob-Whites,
    Mr. Wheeler,” Trixie said gratefully. “Heavens, there are a lot of other things to do in St. Louis.”
    “Name one,” Mart said disconsolately.
    “I did so want to take just a little ride on the river. Daddy! You’ve thought of something!” Honey clapped her hands.
    Mr. Wheeler had risen suddenly, snapping his fingers. He left abruptly, without a word, and went out to the phone booth near the pool. When he rejoined the breathless Bob-Whites, he was smiling. “Pack up your troubles! You’re as good as aboard!”
    “The Catfish Princess?” Jim asked.
    “I think so. Remember that retired riverboat captain, Captain Wainwarton, who spoke at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High a while back?”
    “Do I!” Jim answered. “He wrote a book about Mark Twain on the Mississippi. Jeepers, Dad, do you mean that you talked to him?”
    “I did. I just remembered that he was from St. Louis. Guess what. He’s part owner of the Catfish Princess. He remembered the Bob-Whites. At least, he said he remembered Trixie. Everybody remembers Trixie”—Mr. Wheeler smiled—“one way or another.”
    “A left-handed compliment if I ever heard one,” Mart said. “Guaranteed not to swell your head, Trixie. Do you mean, sir, that we really will get to ride on the Catfish Princess ?”
    “I don’t mean anything else, Mart. There’s only one obstacle. The Princess will be bound for New Orleans. The journey there and back would take lots longer than the time we have.”
    “Then, why did you say we could pack?” Honey asked, deflated.
    “I’m getting to that, Honey. Towboats stop at many intermediary points to unload freight, drop off empty barges, or pick up new loads. Captain Wainwarton suggested that you might want to ride the Catfish Princess to Cairo,