The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

  Your TRIXIE BELDEN Library

  1 The Secret of the Mansion

  2 The Red Trailer Mystery

  3 The Gatehouse Mystery

  4 The Mysterious Visitor

  5 The Mystery Off Glen Road

  6 Mystery in Arizona

  7 The Mysterious Code

  8 The Black Jacket Mystery

  9 The Happy Valley Mystery

  10 The Marshland Mystery

  11 The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

  12 The Mystery of the Blinking Eye

  13 The Mystery on Cobbett’s Island

  14 The Mystery of the Emeralds

  15 Mystery on the Mississippi

  16 The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

  17 The Mystery of the Uninvited Guest

  18 The Mystery of the Phantom Grasshopper

  19 The Secret of the Unseen Treasure

  20 The Mystery Off Old Telegraph Road

  21 The Mystery of the Castaway Children

  22 Mystery at Mead’s Mountain

  23 The Mystery of the Queen’s Necklace

  24 Mystery at Saratoga

  25 The Sasquatch Mystery

  26 The Mystery of the Headless Horseman

  27 The Mystery of the Ghostly Galleon

  28 The Hudson River Mystery

  29 The Mystery of the Velvet Gown

  30 The Mystery of the Midnight Marauder

  31 Mystery at Maypenny’s

  32 The Mystery of the Whispering Witch (new)

  33 The Mystery of the Vanishing Victim (new)

  34 The Mystery of the Missing Millionaire (new)

  Copyright © 1977,1963 by

  Western Publishing Company, Inc, All rights reserved. Produced in U.S.A.

  GOLDEN®, GOLDEN PRESS®, and TRIXIE BELDEN® are registered trademarks of Western Publishing Company, Inc.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or copied in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  ISBN 0-307-21587-3

  All names, characters, and events in this story are entirely fictitious.

  A Strange Beginning ● 1

  TRIXIE BELDEN, fourteen, hurried from the taxicab that had taken her and her friends to Kennedy International Airport in New York City. Her sandy curls, damp from the heat of midsummer, clung tightly to her head, like a cap.

  “I’m just sure I heard the flight from Chicago announced,” she called back to her older brother Brian. “Hurry and pay the driver, please?”

  “I’ve already charged the cab to Daddy,” Trixie’s best friend Honey Wheeler said. “Daddy gave Jim and me a credit card. You don’t need to be in such a hurry, Trixie. Wait for the rest of us! It’ll take half an hour for the passengers to get up here after the plane has landed.”

  “Gosh, yes,” Trixie’s other brother, Mart, added. “The way you’re rushing, Trixie, anyone’d think some alien creatures had just landed from another planet.”

  “You know Bob and Barbara and Ned have never been in New York before,” Trixie said, but she slowed down. “I don’t want them to be worried if they don’t find us. Kennedy International Airport is acres bigger than the Des Moines airport, and it’s almost as busy as the one in Chicago, where they made connections.”

  “You seem to forget that Ned is the same age as Brian and I,” Honey’s adopted brother, Jim, said, laughing indulgently. He never really seemed upset at anything Trixie did or said. “A person that old can take care of himself.”

  “Yeah,” Mart said. “Bob and Barbara are my age, so they’re not babies, either.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Trixie admitted a little shamefacedly, “but anyway, I want to be right on hand to welcome them. Isn’t it wonderful that they are finally coming to visit here?”

  “I’ll say it is,” Dan Mangan said. He was the only member of their club, Bob-Whites of the Glen, who hadn’t gone to Happy Valley Farm in Iowa at Easter time, so he didn’t know the Hubbell twins, Barbara and Bob, or Ned Schulz. “I’m glad I’m finally going to have a chance to meet them. Don’t think I wasn’t envious of the good times you had there when I was studying hard back in Sleepyside. Even if I did make up my grades so I could stay in the same class with Jim and Brian, the two brains, I still wish I could have been with you. Say, look at the bulletin board! You didn't hear the announcement of the plane’s arrival, Trixie. It’s going to be an hour late.” Dan settled on a bench and panted exaggeratedly. “You and all your hurrying, Trix!”

  “Boy, do we always follow Trixie like a flock of geese!” Mart said and plopped down beside Dan. “Why do we always pirouette to her peremptory Pied Piper piping?”

  “Just listen to him!” Diana Lynch said, her violet eyes widening. “Isn’t he smart?”

  Mart loved to use big words. He usually knew what he was saying, too. Trixie was proud of his knowledge, though she didn’t often let him know it.

  All of the group were pupils at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High, and their club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen, had been formed primarily to help with fundraising for various projects—UNICEF, disabled children, earthquake sufferers, and many private charities. The fact that these activities always seemed to go hand in hand with mysterious happenings was quite by accident. The same mysterious happenings offered Trixie and Honey an opportunity to get in some good practice for what they hoped would be their careers someday, the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.

  Just now, though, with their friends from Iowa expected momentarily, the Bob-Whites had no objective in mind for the next few days other than to have a wonderful time together exploring in the big city of New York.

  The Iowans expected, after a few days in New York, to go on to Maine to visit relatives, then to stay awhile in Sleepyside.

  Mr. Wheeler, Honey and Jim’s father, was very wealthy and commuted daily to his business from their home, Manor House, in Sleepyside. He kept a large apartment in New York to entertain business friends and so he and Mrs. Wheeler could stay overnight when attending the theater or opera.

  Now he had turned the apartment over to the young people. Because there would be ten of them, he had arranged for additional quarters across the hall. Miss Trask, the Wheeler housekeeper, would stay in the apartment with the dual purpose of acting as chaperon and visiting her sister, who was an invalid in a New York hospital.

  “I wish we were going to be in Sleepyside instead of spending all this time in the city,” Dan said. “From what you tell me, Bob’s a fine pitcher, and we have some good games coming up in our league.”

  “Maybe he can do that later,” Trixie said. “They’re so excited, all three of them, at the prospect of seeing New York. I never get over being thrilled with it myself.”

  “I love New York!” Diana exclaimed. “I love to walk down Fifth Avenue and stop in all the fabulous stores. They have the latest fashions.”

  “I wonder if Bob and Ned are coming this far just to see clothes,” Mart said dryly. “I doubt it.”

  “It’s part of the glamour, and Barbara will like it,” Honey said. “There are thousands of other things to see and do.”

  “They won’t be able to see much in a few days.”

  “Maybe not, Mart. Do you remember, though, what Dad said to those men who were in Sleepyside for his bankers’ convention? He told them if they stayed a week in New York, they’d see everything; if they stayed a month, they’d see some things they wanted to see; but if they intended to live in the city, they’d never see anything. ”

  “I doubt if a person could see all he wanted to see in New York in a lifetime,” Honey said. “Things change so. What are you looking at, Trixie?”

  “That woman sitting on the bench near the door. I noticed her when we came in.
I think she’s in some kind of trouble.”

  “Oh, no!” Mart wailed. “Not again! Trixie, if you get us into one of your mystery messes and spoil our New York fun...”

  “I think she’s terribly upset,” Trixie went on, paying no attention to her brother.

  “Darned if she isn’t,” Jim said. “Trixie, do you think you might be able to help her?”

  Trixie was halfway across the room, with Honey and Diana not far behind her. They stood aside and waited, however, while Trixie sat down next to the foreign-looking woman and took her hand. “Is something wrong?” she asked. “Can I help you?”

  The gray-haired woman wearing a black dress took a big handkerchief from a crumpled red cotton bag and mopped her face. “I lost!” she wailed. “I miss plane I supposed to take. To Mexico City. Oh, miss, what I do? No friends. No money. In Mexico City my daughter wait, and maybe I no come. What I do? Everyone look at me. No one help.” The woman’s shoulders shook, and she raised her face pitifully to Trixie.

  “Maybe there is something I can do. Tell me about it,” Trixie said.

  “I visit my cousin in this big city. I tell fortunes. I not a crook. Police say I crook and have to get out. I not know how to tell them they wrong. My cousin run away from me. She afraid of police. I afraid, too. I buy ticket to my home in Mexico City, spend all my money, come here to wait for airplane. It never come. I ask at window. They tell me go someplace else. I not understand. Where is right place? I wait so long; now I miss plane.”

  “Let me take your ticket. I’ll find out,” Trixie said. She went to the information booth inside the entrance and found that there was still time for the woman to make the flight and that she should be in the Aeronaves de Mexico terminal, near the Van Wyck Expressway, instead of in the TWA flight center.

  “My friends and I will take you right to the gate where you should be. You haven’t missed your plane. Come with us.”

  Trixie motioned to the other Bob-Whites to join her. When they did so, the woman looked about, frightened. “So many people?” she asked.

  “They are my friends. We are all your friends.”

  “I no like too many people. I no like all these boys. I like you. I trust you. I stay here till they go away.”

  “Then I’ll go with you alone,” Trixie told her. “We’ll get the shuttle bus.” She took the woman’s bundle and helped her to her feet. “I’ll be back in plenty of time to meet the Chicago plane,” she told the Bob-Whites.

  Jim held up his thumb and index finger in a circle to tell her “Okay!”

  It was not long till the bus came, and Trixie deposited her companion near the proper flight gate in the Aeronaves building. “I’m going to stay with you till loading time, but first I’ll check again with the information booth in this building, too, just to make certain everything is all right. Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll get a cool drink for you, too.” Trixie stood in line impatiently until her turn came at the window. When she had verified her information, she brought an iced drink at a refreshment counter and hurried back.

  The Mexican woman was scribbling busily on a pad of paper. As Trixie approached, she tore off a sheet and thrust it into her pocket. She accepted the refreshing drink. “You a good girl,” she told Trixie. “You got a good heart. You take good care of me. I not forget. Good things happen to good girls. I tell fortunes. I know.”

  “Thank you,” Trixie said, embarrassed. “Lots of nice things have already happened to me. My parents wouldn’t agree with you that I’m always good, though. I’ve never known any fortune-tellers, but thanks for saying something good will happen to me. I believe your plane is ready now. Don’t worry anymore. You’ll see your daughter real soon.”

  The woman reached into her red cotton bag and put something quickly into Trixie’s hand. “I give you pretty purse for pretty girl. Use right away. Don’t wait!” She looked earnestly into Trixie’s eyes. “It is more than purse. It is great fortune. Cuidadito! Vaya usted con Dios!”

  “Why, thank you! It’s beautiful! Good-bye!”

  Trixie tucked the gay straw purse under her arm and hurried to the bus that would take her back to her friends.

  At the TWA building, she found Mart striding back and forth impatiently. The Bob-Whites were obviously relieved when they saw her. “We’d have had to go down to meet them without you in another minute!” Mart said. “After the way you worried for fear we wouldn’t be here in time to welcome them!”

  “Take it easy, Mart. We’re shaving it close, but we’re in time.” Brian, the oldest Belden, was the acknowledged arbiter. “There they are now! Just coming through that door! Hi!”

  A tall, dark boy with curly hair (Ned Schulz), a pretty, black-haired girl (Barbara Hubbell), and a boy who looked amazingly like her (her twin, Bob) came down the corridor, smiling and waving. The girls hugged Barbara, and the boys all shook hands. “We hated it when the plane was late—hated to miss even one hour in New York!” Barbara was breathless. “I guess we collect our baggage upstairs, don’t we?”

  “Yes, and we’ll get the bus there,” Trixie said.

  “Gosh, it’s great to have you here!” Jim said heartily.

  Bob grinned. “Barbara’s had her bag packed for a week!”

  Ned followed quickly after Brian and Mart. “Boy, look at the crowd! It makes me dizzy. But I like it! I adapt quickly. Say, Trixie, the gang at Rivervale High is still talking about those long shots you made on the basketball court.”

  “I’ve never been able to do it since,” Trixie admitted. “I guess I’m just a ham. I work better with applause. Here is where we get your luggage.”

  They stood around a huge turntable, watched their baggage pop up, claimed it, and went out laughing. They crowded into seats in back of the smiling bus driver.

  All the way into the city, they chattered happily. The driver put his hand over his ear in mock protest, but they laughed him down. “I have a couple just like you at home,” he said. “Here we are at East Side Terminal. Everybody out!”

  Two cabs took them from the terminal to the apartment house on Central Park West. The elevator whisked them to the penthouse, where Miss Trask, tall, gray-haired, smiling, opened the door to welcome them. Then they separated. The boys went across the hall to the other apartment and the girls to the pretty bedrooms in the Wheeler apartment.

  Later, when they had freshened up, they met in the Wheeler living room. Miss Trask had disappeared to another part of the apartment. “She’s a wonderful person,” Trixie told the visitors. “The very best chaperon in all the world.”

  “You said it!” Jim agreed. “She works overtime at keeping out of sight, and the truth is, she’s never in our way. She likes us, and we like her. She’s never yet disapproved of anything Honey or I have done.”

  “She used to be my math teacher at boarding school,” Honey explained. “Now she keeps house for us, and we couldn’t love her more if she were a relative. She said her sister is getting better but still has to stay in the hospital quite a while to recuperate. She had an operation. Miss Trask stays there every day and comes back here to be with us at night. She’s been almost as excited as we’ve been over your visit.”

  “She seems super!” Bob said.

  “After all you told us about her and how good all the people around the Manor House have been to you Bob-Whites, we sure are glad to meet her now,” Barbara said.

  “If she’d been around out at Kennedy International Airport, we wouldn’t have come so near missing you,” Mart said. “She calls our intrepid sister ‘Unpredictable Trixie.’ Say, Trix, you never did tell us anything about your odd friend at the airport.”

  “She hasn’t had a chance,” Honey said quickly, then explained to the visitors about the elderly stranger Trixie had befriended. “I know she made her plane all right, but what was her trouble, Trixie? Who was she?”

  Trixie told them of the poor woman’s predicament and showed them the bright straw purse.

  “It’s perfectly
perfect!” Barbara looked admiringly at her friend. “Trixie, you’re always doing nice things for people.”

  “And collecting loot.” Mart grinned. “Trix, why didn’t you tell her to fill the purse with gold?”

  Trixie didn’t answer. Her face was thoughtful.

  “Hey, come out of it,” Mart said. “I was just joking. Barbara’s right. You always are helping people. It gets you in trouble, too, sometimes. Say, what’s the matter? Has the cat got your tongue?”

  Trixie shook her head vigorously, smiling a broad smile. “I guess I did go off into outer space. I’m sorry. There was something very mysterious about that woman, though... the way she looked at me when she left. I wonder....”

  “Oh, Trixie, not again!” Mart wailed. “No detective work while we’re in the city.”

  “The things that happen to Trixie are always the most spectacular!” Barbara said, so excited her voice ended in a thin squeak. “Our sheriff said she worked on that sheep-thief mystery at Happy Valley like a real professional. Now we may get in on another mystery! Trixie, you should write your autobiography right away. I think they’d even make a movie of all your adventures!”

  Good-Luck Piece • 2

  DON’T YOU THINK it would be a good idea to forget about the Mexican woman now?” Miss Trask suggested. She had brought in tall glasses of lemonade for the Bob-Whites and their guests from Iowa and had overheard part of the conversation about Trixie’s experience at the airport. “You helped someone, and she rewarded you in the only way she knew—with a gift made in her own country. That doesn’t sound like much of a mystery. Why not think about what you want to do this evening instead?”

  “It’s one thing to tell Trixie to forget about it and another thing to have her do it,” Mart said. “Miss Trask, you know very well Trixie will think more about it.”

  “Of course I will,” Trixie said vehemently. “You didn’t see the way she looked at me when she left... when she gave me the present. It was a queer, deep look. That woman was mysterious, and you all know it. Look at Brian and Jim right now, over in the corner whispering.”