The Mystery of the Blinking Eye Read online

  “Yeah. He rolled up the corner he had torn from the five-dollar bill he put in the envelope. Then, when he tore off the corner of another bill on the stage, he palmed that corner and gave to Honey the one he had previously torn from the bill in the envelope. See?”

  “Oh, that was sneaky!” Trixie said admiringly.

  “Of course. All magic is sneaky,” Ned agreed. “But it’s mystifying. I bought some of the same junk Mart did, and I’m going to be ‘Neddo the Necromancer’ when I get back to Rivervale.”

  “Isn’t that about enough magic?” Mart said and dropped into an easy chair. “Entertain me, slaves!” he commanded Bob and Barbara. “Guitar music! Song!” Bob and Barbara jumped to their feet, salaamed in front of Mart, then sat side by side on chairs in the middle of the room. They strummed their guitars to see if they were in tune, then sang sweetly:

  “Out on the prairie, stars in the sky,

  Soft wind a-cryin’, askin’ me why,

  Why I’m so lonely, why, oh, my, why?

  Why, said the wind to me, why do you sigh?

  Far from my sweetheart, lone, all alone,

  Wind asked me why,

  and the wind should have known.”

  Bob and Barbara increased the tempo of their accompaniment.

  “A man’s only half a man

  Withou this love,

  Without his love, without his love

  Held close to his heart.

  A man’s only half a man,

  And the littlest part.”

  “It’s lovely!” Miss Trask said when the twins had finished. She clapped louder than any of the others.

  “I never heard that melody before, or the words.”

  “We made it up,” Barbara said shyly. “Bob did most of it.”

  “Sing another!” they all shouted. “Please!”

  Bob and Barbara changed places. She pulled her chair a little back of Bob’s. Then they sang a song that jingled:

  “Andy went to town to buy a gift to send his lady.

  Couldn’t find a thing to please, no matter what he paid.

  He walked up one street, down another,

  Looked in windows, said he druther

  Go back home and make a present for his sweet.

  “Oh, Andy took the sunshine, mixed it with the blue

  Sky that spread above him, added white clouds, too. ■_,

  Andy took the perfume from sage and mountain pine,

  From alkali tossed into dust his pony’s feet sent flyin’.

  He boxed it and addressed it—Back Bay, Boston, Mass.

  “Then waited, sure for certain

  his gift would bring his lass.

  Sure enough!

  The day that she received it,

  Andy’s lady fair

  Took a plane to Phoenix,

  Wired him to meet her there.

  So...

  It isn’t the cost of a present, you see,

  That matters to ladies; it’s just the idee.”

  Before the Bob-Whites had a chance to applaud the song, they realized that someone had been knocking hard at the door.

  Miss Trask went to open it.

  A man stood there. “I’d like to speak to the Westons,” he said. “My name is Meredith. I live just down the hall.”

  “There are no Westons here,” Miss Trask said. “I’m afraid you must have gotten the wrong apartment number.”

  Mr. Meredith looked puzzled. “The Westons aren’t here? I was sure I heard them playing. I’m with Celebrity Broadcasting, and the Westons, brother and sister, sing on one of my evening shows.”

  Miss Trask smiled. “Bob and Barbara Hubbell have been playing and singing. They’re visiting here from Iowa.” She gestured toward the twins seated in the living room.

  Mr. Meredith looked embarrassed. “Oh, I have made a mistake. I could have sworn—Well, those two sound enough like the Westons to be the Westons. Have you ever been on television?” he asked the Hubbell twins.

  “Only locally—in Des Moines,” Bob answered.

  “Are you going to live in New York now?”

  “No, sir, we’re just visiting for a few days.”

  “Too bad. I could use you.” He turned to Miss Trask. “Are you their mother?”

  Miss Trask smiled. “No, but I surely wish I were. Why?”

  “I’d like to have them appear on our amateur program the day after tomorrow,” Mr. Meredith said. “It might turn out to be well worth your while, Barbara and Bob. Do you want to try?”

  The Bob-Whites stared at him in astonishment and delight.

  “We’d love it; wouldn’t we, Bob?” Barbara answered finally. “If you think we’re good enough.”

  “I do think so,” Mr. Meredith answered. “See you at the studio?”

  The twins nodded vigorously.

  Mr. Meredith wrote something on a card and stepped inside the room to hand it to Bob. This is your card of introduction. I’ll run along now. I m sorry I'barged in. Forgive me. I really could have sworn....” He backed out of the door.

  “Jeepers!” Mart said. “A national hookup! You’ll knock ’em dead!”

  “Thanks for thinking so,” Barbara said. “Heavens, Bob, just imagine!”

  A Queer Coincidence ● 9

  NEXT MORNING, the telephone jangled as Miss Trask was getting breakfast.

  “I’ll get it!” Trixie called and took up the receiver. “Hello?” She rattled the button and answered again, puzzled: “Hello?”

  “That’s funny!” Trixie said, perplexed. “I was sure there was someone on the line, but nobody said a thing.”

  “Wrong number!” Honey said. “It happens all the time. People have a hard time remembering seven or eight digits when they look them up in the directory.”

  “I’m not so sure it was a wrong number,” Trixie said thoughtfully. “My dad said once that thieves sometimes telephone to learn if anyone is at home.

  We didn’t hear one word from the police about the robber who was here.”

  “I told you before that as long as that thief didn’t steal anything, you probably won’t hear a word,” Dan said. “I don’t think that call was anything but a wrong number. Let’s all wade into the waffles Miss Trask is making. Boy, look at the real maple syrup, too!”

  “You eat this waffle you just baked, Miss Trask. I’ll bake the rest of them. I know you’re in a hurry to get to the hospital, since you didn’t go last evening.” Trixie poured batter into the waffle iron, then waited for it to brown.

  “Where are you going today?” Miss Trask asked as Jim pulled out her chair and pushed the syrup jug where she could reach it.

  “Bedloe’s Island. Statue of Liberty!” Barbara and Bob chorused. “I’ve wanted to see it all my life!” Barbara added breathlessly.

  “Not quite that many years!” Mart grinned. “It’s not ‘Bedloe’s Island’ now, either, Barbara. It’s ‘Liberty Island.’ ”

  “Whatever you call it, that’s where we’re going,” Trixie answered gaily. “If we get back from there in time, we may go out dancing, then have a light dinner. We want to go to the Empire State Building for a view of the city at night.”

  The Bob-Whites and their friends had to scramble for the subway to get to the Battery Park in time for the nine o’clock boat. It ran only on the hour, and Jim thought they would need to spend at least two hours on the island to see everything that they wanted to see.

  They boarded the small ferry just as it tooted its last call. Soon they were bobbing in the bay. From the rail they looked back at the shoreline and the sparkling towers of mid-Manhattan. The bright sun of midday tinted the roofs with gold until they blended in one shining blur.

  In the bay, husky little tugs steamed and snorted as they nudged huge barges on their way or pulled freighters into place. The water was alive with craft of every kind, from small powerboats to huge liners heading for the open sea.

  “I wish I had as many eyes as a fly or a spider,” Barbara said as she ran from one side
of the ferry to the other, excitedly calling out to Bob the new things she saw.

  “I’ll settle for the sight of the Statue herself, over there ahead of us,” Ned said.

  “Isn’t she huge?” Barbara sighed. “Isn’t she perfectly beautiful?”

  “I’ve seen it many times, but every time is a new thrill,” Honey agreed. “Look, the ferry’s stopping.”

  “I’m going way up to the very top,” Bob said, “to that little balcony right under the torch. See it up there?”

  Dan shook his head. “Nope, you’re not. Nobody can go up there anymore. I don’t know why. But don’t worry, Bob, because you can see just as much from that balcony that runs around her head.”

  As they drew near the great base of Liberty, Jim said, “Bartholdi, the man who designed the statue, had a genius for symbolism. Look at her bare feet. They show her humility. The broken chains of slavery lie next to her feet. In her left hand, she holds a tablet symbolizing our Declaration of Independence.”

  “I don’t see how you can tell all those things from here,” Barbara said. “Her feet are so huge they’re all I can see.”

  “I can’t see anything but her feet right now, myself,” Jim said, smiling. “I know the other things are there, though.”

  They went inside the base of the statue and looked around eagerly.

  “Let’s climb up to the first balcony,” Mart suggested, “or anyone who wants can take the elevator and we’ll meet you there.”

  “No, you don’t,” Jim said. “We’ll all climb, or we’ll all take the elevator. We can’t lose sight of each other for a minute, after the queer things that have been happening.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Brian agreed. Trixie heard him say under his breath to Jim, “I didn’t like that odd telephone call this morning... no one on the line.”

  Trixie couldn’t hear what Jim answered. She had no time to ask, however, because the others were on their way up the stairs. At different levels, there were pictures of the sculptor Bartholdi and the different stages in the development of the statue and its site.

  “Boy, is that a view!” Bob said as they went out to the first balcony. “See the midget tugs and—gosh —look at the country all around here!”

  “Yes. You can see Manhattan, of course, and Jersey City, over there.” Brian pointed them out. “Brooklyn, Hoboken—what are you laughing at, Ned?”

  “Some of the names. Hoboken is funny-sounding. So is Weehawken. And Tonawanda. Spuyten Duyvil... there’s a doozer for you!”

  “I suppose you think some of the Iowa names didn’t sound funny to us—Pottawattamie, Maquoketa, Winneshiek....” Jim smiled.

  “Maybe they do sound odd if you aren’t used to them,” Ned agreed. “They’re all Indian names.”

  “So are the New York State names... all except Spuyten Duyvil. It’s Dutch. It means just what it sounds like—‘spite the devil.’ ”

  “Are you two going to sit down and discuss semantics, or are we going to have fun?” Mart asked.

  “If that’s what we’re discussing, we’ll stop it right now,” Ned said. “I’ll have to ask Bob the meaning of that word.”

  “Never mind. He tripped me up once, and that’s enough,” Mart said. “It’s one hundred and sixty-eight steps up to the next balcony. Who wants to go?”

  “I do,” Trixie said quickly.

  “So do we!” the rest of the group called. But when Diana saw the narrow spiral stairway, she hung back from the others.

  “Oh, come on, Di!” Trixie begged. “If you don’t go, we’ll have to stay down here. Jim will go ahead of you and one of the other boys right back of you. It’s not so bad.”

  It wasn’t too bad, but Diana was shaking when she reached the top. She clung to Mart’s arm as they walked around the small balcony.

  “I’ll bet we can see as far as Des Moines!” Barbara exclaimed breathlessly. “Which direction is Westchester County?”

  “You can’t really see it now,” Brian explained. “It’s way over there past the tip of Manhattan. You’d better tie your scarf, Barbara. There’s really a wind up here.”

  “Everything’s so gorgeous, I don’t mind the wind,” Barbara cried, standing on tiptoe. “See all those people streaming from the ferry. There must be thousands of visitors on this island now... and thousands of boats and barges and steamships and everything out there in the bay. They all look like beetles—even the big steamships!”

  “Manhattan looks like something I used to build with blocks,” Bob said. “Gosh, it’s great!”

  “I doubt if people in Manhattan would use that comparison to describe it,” Trixie said. “It shines like a diamond necklace, seen from here, though. That’s Ellis Island over north of us.”

  For a long time, the Iowans, engrossed, watched the movement in the water far below. Finally, reluctantly, they were aware that it was time to leave.

  “The ferry is just backing away from Battery Park on its way over here. If we want to get it going back, we’d better scram down these stairs,” Mart said.

  “And knock over a hundred people coming up?” Jim asked. “Watch your step, everybody!”

  The Bob-Whites and their visitors crowded as far over to one side of the steps as they could. When they reached the lower balcony, they had to wait nearly ten minutes before they had a chance to go on down the stairs. Then they raced to the ferry, which puffed importantly while it waited.

  As they lined up along the rail on the return trip, four sturdy tugs escorted a huge Cunard liner across the bay. Streamers of curled paper still trailed from its promenade deck, tributes from friends who had seen passengers off on a cruise. The band on deck played loudly, and, as the big ship slowly passed the small ferry, the passengers shouted and waved.

  It was after one o’clock when the ferry stopped.

  “I’m starving,” Honey announced. “Shall we have our lunch at a restaurant in Battery Park?”

  “You mean not go to that place where we can dance?” Barbara’s voice sounded disappointed.

  “Of course we’ll dance!” Jim assured her. “Here’s a candy bar to keep you from starving, Honey. It’s my last one, so you may have to divide it.”

  Honey took the candy bar eagerly, stripped off its wrapper, broke it, and offered it to the others.

  “Shove it in your mouth in a hurry if we’re going to make the train!” Mart suggested. “Look at that gang making for the subway station. Watch out there, sir. Watch where you’re going!”

  A shabbily dressed man had shoved Trixie rudely against the stone wall of the subway entrance, then pushed ahead of her to block her way on the stairs.

  “Hey there, you!” Jim called. He and Brian and Ned closed in on thp man just as he made a quick grab for Trixie’s purse. The man missed it, cursed, turned, and ran down the steps two at a time. Jim and Brian took off after him, shouting back to the others to stay close together.

  “It was no use!” they reported, panting, when they rejoined their friends at the foot of the stairs after a few moments.

  “He just disappeared,” Jim said, frustrated. “Trixie, I believe it was your friend with the scar.”

  “It couldn't be,” Trixie moaned, her voice trembling. “How could he possibly know we were going to be here?”

  “Keep on walking, kids,” a man back of them said impatiently. “Forget that guy! He didn’t get your purse, miss, did he? Call yourself lucky. Thieves hang out at these entrances. They’re after tourists like you. If you dangle your purse at the end of your arm, don’t blame anyone but yourself if a thief gets it. If you lived in New York, then you’d know what to expect.”

  “We do live in New York,” Jim said crisply. Then he ignored the man and urged the others to hurry.

  “See, now?” Trixie exclaimed as they huddled close together in subway seats. “That’s more of the prophecy coming true!”

  Mart was unconvinced. “I sure don’t recall anything as sensible as ‘Statue of Liberty’ or ‘Bedloe’s Island’ in that
stuff the Mexican woman wrote.”

  “You don’t?” Honey quoted softly, “ ‘Watch out for thieves; they’re everywhere.’ ”

  “Gosh, Honey, Trixie already quoted that about the thief who broke into the apartment.” Mart smiled.

  “If you weren’t so impatient, if you didn’t interrupt, if you’d listen for a minute, Honey would tell you the rest. Go on, Honey,” Trixie urged.

  “Watch out for thieves; they’re everywhere,

  At home, on island, dead beasts’ lair.”

  “Now, what do you say to that, Mart Belden? ‘On island,’ the prophecy said. We just left an island, didn’t we?”

  “You win, Trix. But I still say it’s just a queer coincidence.”

  “Didn’t he call our stop?” Jim asked. The group jumped to their feet, hurried through the door onto the platform, and filed up the stairs.

  Trapped! ● 10

  ITWAS AFTER TWO o’clock when Trixie and her hungry friends arrived at the large hotel east of Central Park.

  Ned held the door open as they went into the lobby. “Oh, boy, listen to that music!” Mart exclaimed. “It’s Freddy Fedder’s piano. I’ve got a couple of his albums back home!” Ned exclaimed. “And that’s Max Meader on the guitar!”

  Barbara stood listening breathlessly. “Max Meader!” she sighed. “Isn’t this wonderfully wonderful? That crowd! The music! And something smells wonderful, too.”

  “It’s food, at last,” Honey sighed.

  The huge room was almost filled with young people —some dancing, some sitting at tables eating or sipping soft drinks.

  “They have a buffet here where we help ourselves,” Trixie explained. She led the way toward a long table. “Don’t hold back. Take all you want, because one price includes everything.”

  Part of a huge ham stood ready to slice. Many kinds of cheese, jars of peanut butter, and jelly were available for sandwiches. There were hot hamburgers, crispy French fried potatoes, catsup, mayonnaise, plenty of lettuce, pickles, cookies, cakes, milk, colas. It was an array of food that stretched the length of the long buffet.