The Mystery on Cobbett's Island (12 page)

The two boats came close enough to each other so
that Peter could report that all was well, and then they headed for the club. As they approached land, they saw a sizable crowd gathered on the dock, and several flashlights were being shone across the dark waters of the harbor. Captain Price got out a megaphone from the cabin, and, shouting through it, assured them that all were safe.

“It looks as though our late arrival had quite a lot of people worried,” said Peter. “My mother always gets jittery if I'm late getting back, even though she knows with a sailboat you can never tell just what time you'll be in.”

“I'll bet Miss Trask is frantic,” chimed in Trixie. “She's been so nice about letting us do whatever we wanted since we got here, I hate to worry her.”

As a matter of fact, they could see Miss Trask, Tom, and Celia at the end of the dock. Peter said, “There's Abe talking to them. He'll reassure them, all right. He's the calmest person in a crisis I've ever seen.”

When, finally, the
Star Fire
had been made fast to her mooring, Captain Price drew alongside the dock, and the Bob-Whites scrambled ashore. As Jim and Mart helped the girls off the cutter, Peter once again thanked the captain and his crew for all their help.

“Won't you and your men come into the club and
have some coffee before you go back, sir?” asked Peter.

“Thank you very much, young man. I'd like nothing better, but I don't think we'd better waste any time. I want to brief Abe on the situation before I take off, and you know there's still work to do out there.” He pointed down the bay toward the distant light which they could see still flashing its friendly warning through the darkness.

Everyone was crowding around, asking questions and making sure no one had been hurt. Peter told how the rudder had been broken and how they had tied up to the buoy. He didn't say anything about the shattered light, thinking it best to keep that part of the story to himself, at least for a while. He noticed that Abe had boarded the cutter and was undoubtedly being briefed by Captain Price on that aspect of the adventure.

Peter and Trixie slung the sail bags over their shoulders, Mart carried the broken rudder, and Diana brought the lunch basket. As they headed for the yacht club, they saw Mrs. Kimball running toward them, an anxious look on her face.

“You're late, Mother; you've missed all the excitement,” Peter reassuringly called.

“Thank heavens you're back! I waited until nine o'clock thinking every minute you'd come in, and then I couldn't stand it another second and came down,” she said breathlessly.

“We're fine, and I'll tell you all about it later,” Peter said.

As they approached the clubhouse lawn, Peter saw Cap and Mart examining the rudder. Cap shook his head. “Pete, this rudder has really had it. I thought at first it might be mended temporarily, but that crack goes way up into the part that fits onto the rudder post. It would never be strong enough to be safe. I've got an extra one over at the house. I bought it from Dick after his boat was wrecked in the hurricane a couple of years ago, and if you want to use it, you're more than welcome to it.”

“Thanks a million, Cap,” said Peter, giving his friend a thump on the back. “That would save my life. It will take at least a week to get a new one, and I'd hate not to race in the tune-ups.”

“Are you all going to the clambake tomorrow?” Cap asked as they were picking up their gear, preparatory to going home.

“By Jove, I'd forgotten all about it!” Peter exclaimed. “And I promised I'd go over in the morning and help get things ready.”

“I'm going over, too,” rejoined Cap. “Setting up a clambake is almost as much fun as eating it. Why don't you
all
come? We'll meet at Pirate's Cove at ten. You'd all
like to be initiated into the mysteries of a clambake, wouldn't you?” he asked the Bob-Whites.

“Oh, we'd love it,” cried Trixie, and the others joined her in eagerly accepting the invitation.

“I don't think any of us has ever been to a real clambake. What's it like?” asked Honey.

“We won't tell you a thing about it until tomorrow,” laughed Cap. “It has to be seen and eaten to be believed, doesn't it, Pete?” And with a wave of his hand, Cap was off on his bicycle.

“Jeepers, we'd better get going, too,” said Trixie. “It must be awfully late.”

“By my faithful chronometer, it's only nine thirty,” Mart said, as he looked at his wrist watch, “but it certainly seems as though we'd been out on the high seas half the night.”

When they got back to The Moorings, Jim said, “I have a sneaking suspicion you didn't tell all that happened out there, Pete. Am I right?”

“You sure are!” exclaimed Trixie, and she started to tell about the broken lights and the plan they had suggested to the captain for getting further information. “And you know we shouldn't waste any time getting over there to Jimmy's Place,” she added. “If those two in the boat get suspicious that the Coast Guard is on their
trail, they may take to cover for a while. How about going over tonight?”

“You're right, Trix,” said Diana, “but how can we work it? I don't think we should all go, do you?”

“That's a thought, Di,” Trixie said with a frown. “With Peter and all of us, there would be seven, and if we barge in there, everyone's going to notice us and wonder what's up.”

“I agree,” Brian said seriously. “Besides, someone from the island would be sure to spot Peter. The story of the Coast Guard rescuing us will spread like wildfire, and if those two
are
there, they'd certainly get suspicious.”

“Well, who's to go?” asked Peter. “I agree it would be taking a chance for me to go. How do you Bob-Whites decide a thing like this?”

“Oh, we don't have any set procedure. Usually someone starts out with a vague idea and we kick it around for a while and come up with a solution. It's as simple as that.”

“I suggest that our capable president and co-president be assigned to this dangerous mission,” said Mart. “I know my darling sibling is secretly dying to go, and who could offer her protection better than our stalwart Jim?”

“But remember I never saw the yellow boat,” answered Jim, “and much as I'd like to go, I wouldn't be of much use, I'm afraid.”

“Oh, that doesn't matter,” Trixie quickly replied. “I'd know those two if I met them on a dark night in China! Come on, Jim, say you'll go.”

“Okay, but there's another problem. How are we going to get there?” Jim queried. “I can't drive after dark on my junior license, you know, and neither can Pete.”

Trixie thought a minute and then, snapping her fingers, she said, “I have it. We'll ask Tom to drive us all down in the station wagon. He can park a little distance from Jimmy's Place, and Jim and I can walk on from there. Then, if there should be any trouble, you'll all be close enough to hear if we give the Bob-White whistle.”

“That's a great idea, Sis,” said Brian. “Now all we have to do is get you two dressed up, and we'll be all set.”

While they were eating the delicious pot roast and vegetables which the cook had kept hot for them, they told Miss Trask about their plan, and she agreed to let them go if Tom would drive them. As usual, when the Bob-Whites needed him, Tom was more than willing to help.

“Now let's see,” said Trixie thoughtfully. “Jim really ought to be wearing jeans that are two sizes too
small and a leather jacket, but none of us has one.”

“I have a very old black jacket,” volunteered Tom, who had been called in to hear about the project. “I brought it along to wear when I work on the car. You're welcome to it if it will be any use.”

“Wonderful, Tom; thanks a lot!” Honey replied. “We certainly can use it.”

“I'll bet if Jim tries, he can wiggle into a pair of Mart's jeans,” added Diana.

“Just you be careful not to stretch them,” said Mart, pretending to be serious. “I'm very particular about sartorial details, you know.”

“Oh, we know, Beau Brummel. You always
are
the mirror of fashion,” said Brian. “Look at you now!” And everyone pretended to admire Mart's dirty sneakers, unpressed jeans, and badly spotted sweat shirt.

“Go on, all of you. Clothes don't make the man,” Mart retorted.

“You're right, they don't,” Jim remarked, “but they sometimes give a pretty good indication of what a person thinks of himself. Take those two vulgar boatmen, for example. They may be perfectly good guys, potentially, but they picture themselves as desperate characters and act accordingly.”

No one noticed that Trixie had left the room with
Tom. When she returned a few minutes later, everyone shrieked! She was wearing Jim's biggest sweater which, on her, came way down below her hips. Her curly hair was hidden under a black scarf, and she was wearing a tight black skirt Celia had lent her. Her eyes, made up with eyebrow pencil and mascara, looked completely unnatural.

“Trixie Belden, where did you get that rig?” yelled Jim, not knowing at first whether to be mad or amused by her outlandish getup.

“Celia helped me,” giggled Trixie. “It seems that when she and Tom go out for an evening, she sometimes puts on a bit of makeup, so she helped me put on, not just a bit, but scads of the stuff!” Trixie gingerly wiped the corner of one eye with her little finger. “And the skirt is part of the uniform she wears when she serves dinner.”

Tom came back at this moment with the jacket, and seeing Trixie, he burst out laughing. “I'd never believe it, Trixie; you should be an actress.”

“She'll end up being the world's greatest female sleuth, or I miss my guess,” said Brian.

“She's really one already,” added Jim admiringly. “Come on, away to work, Sherlock Holmes. You all get in the car, and I'll dash up and change into Mart's jeans,” he
said as he ran up the stairs, pulling on Tom's jacket as he went.

Everyone was laughing and joking as they piled into the station wagon and headed for Pebble Beach. Tom said he knew where it was, because he and Celia had gone there swimming on their day off. He parked the car off the road in the dark at some distance from the roadhouse. A blue neon sign proclaimed to the world that this was, indeed, Jimmy's Place. Cars were parked in front of the brightly lighted building, and they could hear the blare of the jukebox and the raucous laughter of what apparently was a good-sized crowd.

Jim and Trixie got out of the station wagon and headed down the road. “Jeepers, Jim,” she said nervously, “I don't know if this was such a brilliant idea or not. I've never been in a place like this in my life, and I—”

Jim took firm hold of her hand and said, “Don't worry, Trix; I'll bet there's more noise than danger in there. We'll look in the window first, and then we'll plan our attack.”

Trixie felt ashamed of her momentary panic and was glad that none of the others had heard her remark. She knew that Jim understood how she felt and said in a low voice, “Gee, Jim, I'm awfully glad it was you they
picked to come tonight. Thanks for calming me down.” For an answer, Jim gave her hand a squeeze.

They strolled up to the front of Jimmy's Place and tried to look as casual as possible. They saw a couple come out and start up the road in the opposite direction. Through the window, they could make out a crowd around a jukebox. Others were leaning against the bar in the rear or were sitting in the high-backed booths which occupied one side of the smoke-filled room.

“Come on, Trix,” said Jim, pulling her toward the door. “Chin up.”

“Hey, not so fast,” Trixie whispered as she pressed her face closer to the window. “See that bunch of boys over there in the first booth? I've got a hunch if there's dirty work going on around here they'd know about it. They're the same type as those characters in the motorboat. In fact, they may be the same ones.”

“Okay, Trixie,” Jim answered. “Let's go on in and head for that empty booth right behind them before anyone beats us to it. We won't be conspicuous there and we can at least get the lay of the land.”

They took a last look down the road to the car to reassure themselves and then pushed their way inside. They sat down opposite each other in the booth. Jim realized they would have to order something if they
didn't want to attract attention, although neither of them relished the idea of eating here. He asked for a ham sandwich and a Coke for each of them.

While they were waiting for their order, they glanced around to see if any of the crowd were the ones they were looking for and realized that practically any of the boys in the place might be the ones Trixie had seen in the yellow speedboat. She ruefully conceded that she didn't have as clear a picture as she had at first thought.

“Why do I always act so impulsively?” she moaned. “I was sure I'd know those two, and now I couldn't be more puzzled. It must be awful in a police lineup when you have to try to identify someone. I'll bet there are loads of mistakes made, and a lot of people are accused of things they never did.”

“Don't worry about that now, Trix. We may not find out anything tonight but I'm sure eventually they'll be caught. You can't get by with that kind of stuff for very long, you know,” Jim reassured her.

They were silent for a while, taking occasional tiny bites from the unpalatable sandwiches and listening to the flow of talk around them. All of a sudden Trixie put her finger to her lips and motioned over her shoulder to the booth behind her. She put her head close to the back of the booth, listening intently. Jim wasn't able to hear
anything except the general din around him so he just sat perfectly still. Finally Trixie leaned over the table and whispered, “Let's get out of here, Jim. Quick!”