The Mystery on the Mississippi

projects that must be protected from subversive agents—we need the help of every citizen, young and old, in the United States. I don’t intend to minimize the good you and Honey do, the good all the Bob-Whites do, or any organization like yours. I’m just asking you, Trixie, as a special favor to people whose lifework it is, not to try to go it alone. See what I mean?”
    “I guess I do, sir. I didn’t intend to go it alone, as you say. I was just waiting to see if there was anything we actually knew was wrong before I bothered Mr. Wheeler with it. Now I know you want us to report anything that even looks suspicious.”
    “Right you are. That’s what the clerk in the Heartland Motel at Cairo was doing when he saw you take those papers from your purse. Don’t hold that against him. By the way, girls, a word of warning: Don’t mention those papers to anyone—not a word about them. Understand?”
    “Yes, sir,” Trixie and Honey chorused.
    The government agent turned around to the other Bob-Whites. “That goes for the rest of you, too, please. You’ll probably hear from me again before long. In the meantime, I want you to all make a note of this telephone number.” He wrote hurriedly on a card and handed it to Mr. Wheeler. “If any little thing comes up that seems to bear on this case, get to a telephone and let us know. I can’t enlighten you beyond what you have seen and know, for until we appraise the papers, we can’t get a clear-cut picture. If you’re in any kind of danger, though, at any time —and we’ll do our best to see that you aren’t—call the nearest law enforcement group, then get in touch with us.”
    The Bob-Whites assured him that they did understand and would remember what he said.
    “You aren’t going to hold us any longer, then?” Trixie asked hopefully.
    “No. We are releasing you to Mr. Brandio and Mr. Wheeler. We have told these gentlemen that we will want to be informed, certainly, before you leave this part of the country to return to New York. Don’t forget what I’ve said, especially you, Trixie and Honey.”

    It was near dark when they left the federal office in downtown St. Louis. In the excitement, no one had thought about food. It was Mart who reminded them.
    “Some of the rest of you may be able to live on air,” he sighed. “Not me. I’m no hothouse plant. I’m starving. Let’s find a hamburger joint, and soon.”
    Mr. Brandio smiled. “We’ll settle for the Mayfair, just up the street, Mart. How about it? You can get a hamburger in the Hofbrau there, if you insist, but wait till you see the menu.”
    In the German restaurant, the crowd had thinned out. The Bob-Whites eagerly gathered around a large table, sniffing the good smells of German cooking. Mart rubbed his stomach blissfully and, when the waiter stopped for his order, ran his finger down the page and said, “Bring me all of it, with a roast suckling pig on the side.”
    When their food was brought, Trixie had .no appetite whatever. Mr. Wheeler will start asking us a lot of questions, she thought, as soon as we settle down to eat. I can’t answer any more. He’s always been so wonderful to us. He brought us here to St. Louis to show us a good time. Now we’ve —I have, anyway-embarrassed him in front of Mr. Brandio. I wish he wouldn’t look so worried.
    Just then Mr. Wheeler laughed out loud at something Mart said. Mr. Brandio laughed, too. Trixie’s heart took wings. Her plate in front of her had a new and tantalizing look. Her mouth watered. A sigh of gratitude to Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Brandio went up from her full heart.
    From that time on—as they ate their dinner, rose, fully satisfied, from the table, and drove to the waterfront to pick up the car—Mr. Wheeler said no more about their experience. Even when Trixie and Honey rode to the motel with Honey’s father and his friend,
    Mr. Wheeler said nothing. At the door of the motel room, he was brief.
    “At Mr. Brandio’s suggestion, I’ll leave these two telephone numbers with you. One is a direct, unlisted line to Mr. Brandio’s office, and the other is to his home. I’ll see the boys and leave the numbers with them, too. I’ll keep in constant touch with Mr. Brandio, and I can relay any information you give me to the police. One thing I ask of you: If you are puzzled about anything, telephone first and wonder about it afterward. In this case, please do as the federal investigator suggested: Work with them.”
    “Oh, I