Mystery in Arizona (17 page)

They left the table together, arm in arm, and Trixie said with satisfaction, “They make a grand team. Jane Brown is so shy and as for Rosita—well, we Bob-Whites have just got to do something about her.”

Di sighed. “Do you still think there’s something mysterious about her working here?”

“I know there is,” Trixie said smugly. “I solved the mystery this morning when I talked to Mrs. Sherman and also when I talked to Tenny just before the rodeo.” She told them then about the accident and how desperately Rosita needed money.

When she finished Honey said, “You’re right, Trixie, we’ve got to do something. But what? She’s much too proud to accept charity.”

“So Tenny isn’t really a cowboy,” Di said thoughtfully.

“No,” Trixie said in a low voice, “but it’s supposed to be a secret so for heaven’s sake don’t let anyone know what I told you.”

“How about the boys?” Honey asked. “Can they be let in on the secret? You know how I feel about Jim. Why, ever since he became my adopted brother I’ve always told him all my secrets. I mean, the important ones.”

“I know,” Trixie said, “and Tenny figured that it would be hard for us to not tell the boys, so he said we could.” She looked over her shoulder at the rest of the crowded dining-room. “They’re clearing away the dishes now so I guess they’re just about through.”

In a few minutes Mart and Jim joined the girls and then Brian came in from the side door. “We’re supposed to be co-hosts,” he said, slipping into a chair beside Honey. “I just had a chat with Uncle Monty. He’s counting on us to make sure that the dance starts out with a bang.”

“That’s right,” Jim added. “A lot of the guests will be shy about being the first couple on the floor when Uncle Monty starts calling. So it’s up to us to be the first three couples.”

“Well, okay,” said Trixie dubiously. “I just hope I don’t trip and fall on my face. You know how clumsy I’m apt to be when I’m wearing a long skirt.”

“We know, we know,” Mart informed her. “All too well do we know that when you trip the light fantastic you trip, period. Full stop.” He turned to Honey. “You
were not, I believe, living in the Manor House at the time when Trixie made history in grade school by falling off the stage during a play when she was supposed to be a dancing daffodil.”

“Oh, stop it,” Trixie yelled. “Why do you forever keep on using silly phrases like ‘I believe’ when you
know
perfectly well that the Wheelers weren’t living in the Manor House when I was in the third grade?”

“Besides,” Di continued loyally, giving Mart a stern look, “she didn’t fall off the stage on purpose. I remember it all very well because I was the daffodil right behind her. First her paper skirt fell off, then she tripped on it, and the next thing we knew she was practically in the lap of the teacher who was playing the piano.” She laughed in spite of herself. “It really was awfully funny,” she told Honey, “because Trixie was sort of plump in those days—like Bobby is now, you know.”

“You were pretty plump yourself,” Trixie told her sourly. Then she joined in the laughter. “I
was
a scream in those days,” she admitted. “I guess we all were. Anyway, I’m willing to be one of the first three couples on the floor this evening, but only if I can wear my Levi’s.”

“Oh, no,” Di cried in a horrified tone of voice. “You’ve got to wear one of those darling new dresses you bought in Peekskill.”

Trixie shrugged. “I suppose I will, but I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

“I will,” Jim said gallantly. “As my partner you will be the most graceful lady on the floor.”

Trixie blushed and quickly changed the subject. “We’ve got a lot to discuss before the dance starts,” she said, and told the boys about Rosita’s problem.

Jim whistled. “We’ve got to do something about her,” he agreed. “Since the motto of our club is to help others, we should be able to think of some way out for her.”

“I’ve thought and thought,” Trixie said forlornly. “If only she weren’t so proud, Mrs. Sherman would be delighted to give her the money.”

“Since when did Lady Astorbilt become Lady Bountiful?” Mart asked.

“She always has been a sweet old thing,” Trixie said, and explained. Then she told the boys about Tenny and how he was masquerading as a cowboy in order to earn money while he was working for his Ph.D.

“I sort of suspected his lingo right along,” Jim said, grinning. “It was just a little bit too pat. What a great guy he is! Maybe some day he’ll teach at my school during a summer session.”

They finished clearing the tables then, but when
the girls started to stack the dishes in the sinks the boys shooed them out of the kitchen. “Git along, little dogies,” said Jim. “We’re goin’ in cowboy rig but you gals has got to get prettied up for this here stampede.”

They wore their flowered cotton frocks and tied ribbons around their hair. “I feel like a fool,” said Trixie to Di and Honey, “but you two look darling.”

“You look good enough to eat,” Di told her truthfully. “If Mrs. Sherman weren’t going in her flour-sack gown you’d be the belle of the ball.”

They all giggled as they hurried out to the living-room where the party was already in full swing. Another cowboy had joined the “orchestra” with his accordion, and Uncle Monty at the microphone was shouting, rather than singing:

Jim grabbed Trixie’s hand, Brian crooked his arm at Honey, and Mart bowed low in front of Di. In less than a minute the Bob-Whites were part of the colorful, laughing crowd.

“How do you like the
piñata?
” Jim asked.

Trixie stared up at the brown, oblong thing which hung from the ceiling rafters. “It doesn’t look much like a jar,” she said.

“It’s not supposed to be an
olla
,” Jim told her. “It’s supposed to look like a hog-tied calf. The
piñata
doesn’t have to be a jar, you know. It can be in the shape of anything that seems suitable to the occasion.”

Uncle Monty announced the end of the first dance with:

When Trixie caught her breath she asked Jim, “What
is
the occasion? I mean, you don’t usually have a
piñata
at a square dance, do you?”

“No,” Jim agreed. “But it’s Uncle Monty’s birthday. The dogie done up in a piggin’ string is a surprise thought up by Foreman Howie. Di just happened to
mention that it was Uncle Monty’s birthday when we were saddling up for a ride this afternoon. She didn’t know it herself until she got a letter from her mother today. Howie—he’s really a great guy, Trix, when you get to know him—promptly cooked up the idea of a
piñata
. Uncle Monty will get first crack at swatting that calf and of course, being paper, it’ll break immediately.”

“What’s in it?” Trixie asked curiously.

“Oh, just a lot of junk from the ten-cent stores,” Jim said. “Little plastic horses and cows and cowboys and Indians which Petey will fall heir to, of course. It’s the spirit of the thing and I—” He stopped suddenly. “Oh, look at Maria! Something awful must have happened.”

Trixie whirled around to face the door which opened onto the west patio. Maria had just come in and she was wringing her hands and sobbing. As they hurried over to her, Trixie heard her cry out:

“Petey—he’s gone! I tucked him into bed after supper but when I went back a minute ago to see if he was all right, he was gone!”

From then on it seemed to Trixie as though she were living in a western movie. Several of the cowboys immediately hurried off to saddle their horses and ride across the desert in search of the missing boy. Another group, convinced that Petey must have wandered off down the driveway, raced to their cars.

An hour later these “posses” returned to report that they had found no trace of the child. Then Trixie remembered what Bobby had done when
he
had run away from home. He had got no farther than the red trailer which was parked in the woods behind the Wheelers’ mansion.

Impulsively she reached out and touched Howie’s hand. “Did you search the bunkhouses?”

The gruff foreman glared at her and then grinned.

“Nobody’s been there since the square dance began. It would be the ideal hide-out.” He hurried off, his spurs jingling, and in no time at all returned with a very sleepy Petey in his arms.

Maria gathered him close to her. “I never would
have thought to look there for him,” she breathed.
“Mi vida. Mi vida.”

“Trixie’s a smart kid,” Howie said to Uncle Monty. After Maria had led the little boy away he added, “Much ado about nothing. What on earth made Maria think Petey would run away?”

Trixie said nothing but she thought she knew what had happened. Petey must have started out with the idea of saddling a pony but soon discovered that even the lightest saddle was too heavy for him to budge. In the end, exhausted by his efforts, he had fallen asleep in one of the bunks.

The orchestra was playing “Turkey in the Straw” now, and everyone began to dance again just as though there had been no interruption. At midnight the tune changed suddenly to “Happy Birthday.” Uncle Monty was blindfolded and provided with a poker.

“Hit the little dogie—hit it,” the crowd chanted. And hit he did! Gaily wrapped gifts showered down upon him as the
piñata
burst. By that time everyone was laughing and shouting so loudly that Trixie wondered why Miss Girard didn’t object. Then she realized that the two nurses as well as their patients were all there, laughing as loudly as the others when Uncle Monty opened his presents.

After that they trooped into the dining-room for supper which consisted of an enormous birthday cake and gallons of ice cream.

When he blew out the candles, assisted by everyone who was near enough to help, Uncle Monty made a little speech.

“It’s the best birthday I ever had,” he said, “because it really was a surprise. And it’s given me an idea. On Christmas Eve instead of the usual grab bag we’ll have a
piñata
. I’ll have one made in the shape of a reindeer. Maybe all of you would like to help me fill it.”

His next words were drowned out by the guests’ enthusiasm.

“Oh, yes! What fun!”

“A grand idea!”

Uncle Monty continued, “We’ll have a tree, of course, and I hope you’ll all take part in the trimming of it. We’ll want help with decorating the house, too, but out here we use Pyracantha instead of holly. Many of you will attend the Pyracantha Festival on Saturday night at Armory Park. You’ll see that Pyracantha is very similar to holly. The leaves are smaller but the berries are just as bright.”

Everyone began to talk at once and Uncle Monty was forced to rap on the table with the miniature quirt he had received when he broke the
piñata
.

“Most important of all,” he shouted, “is the fact that we must have a Santa Claus. Will anyone volunteer?”

Mr. Wellington stood up and said with a sheepish grin, “I’ve got the build for it, if you want me.”

There were loud cheers and cries of approval. Shortly after that the party broke up. Several guests helped the girls stack the paper plates, cups, and wooden spoons and forks which the boys carried out to the incinerator.

“We’ll help clean up after the Christmas party, too,” one of the guests offered and the others nodded. Mr. Wellington, Mrs. Sherman, and Jane Brown were last to go.

“I never had so much fun in all my life,” Jane said with her shy smile. “And to think I almost stayed in my room just because I’d never been to a square dance before!”

“You were the belle of the ball, honey,” Mrs. Sherman told her.

“No, you were,” Jane argued.

Trixie laughed. “I guess everyone had a grand time. Let’s hope the Christmas Eve party will be as much fun.”