The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

your father’s wishes finally worked out is enough for us. Now, come on, and I’ll race you down the beach—if you can run with a thousand bucks under your arm.” The boys dashed off along the strip of hard sand near the water’s edge. The girls helped to clean up the picnic things for Mrs. Hall, who was still so flustered that she nearly put the pickle bottle in Honey’s beach bag.
    “I don’t think I’ll get over this in a month of Sundays,” she sighed. “Little did I know, when you walked into my shop, that all this would happen.”
    “And little did we know, when we left home, what our vacation was going to be like,” added Trixie. “Re-member, Honey, how I said I just wanted to sit on the beach and relax?”
    “I certainly do! But do you remember I didn’t take you seriously, Trix? I know you too well for that,” Honey reminded her.
    When the boys returned, everyone stretched out on the sand. Quiet descended on the little group, almost as though they were reluctant to break the spell of a wonderful day. Presently Mrs. Hall, who was nearest Trixie, leaned over and, gently patting her on the shoulder, said, “I hate to mention it, but as our sailor friends would say, ‘The sun is well over the yardarm,’ and I know you Bob-Whites have a long way to go.”
    “Good heavens, it’s almost three o’clock!” Trixie exclaimed. “I can’t believe it!”
    Picnic things and towels were gathered up, and they made their way slowly back to the parking lot. Mrs. Hall gave each of the girls a warm kiss, saying she wished she’d had some daughters of her own. Ed shook hands with the Bob-Whites and elicited from Brian a promise to write him about his future plans. He waited to say good-bye to Trixie last, started to speak, and then, throwing up his hands, said, “What can I say, Trixie?”
    Trixie felt the old telltale blush creeping into her cheeks, but Jim was there beside her to do the talking. “It is hard to tell Trixie what we think of her, isn’t it, Ed? Let’s just say she’s tops.”
    Trixie dived into the station wagon, followed by the rest of the Bob-Whites, who laughingly began to chant, “She’s the tops! Trixie’sthe tops!”
    They waved to Ed and Mrs. Hall and then settled back for the drive to Cobbett’s Island. Trixie voiced what they all felt when she said, “It’ll be good to get home and see the family and our clubhouse again, but I don’t think we’ll ever forget this vacation. It’s been perfect.”