The Mystery of the Ghostly Galeon

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Authors: Julie Campbell
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reluctantly, allowing herself to be drawn away from the cliff’s edge. “Just the same, I wish I had a flashlight—”
    “The boys will never believe what we saw,” Honey broke in. “In fact, no one will believe us. And what should we tell Miss Trask?”
    “For the moment,” Trixie said, as she hurried toward the front door, “let’s not tell her anything. Our story would only worry her. Besides, nothing is going to happen tonight. I’m sure of it.”
    But she wouldn’t have been quite so certain if she had seen a pirate’s dim figure detach itself from the shadows behind them.
    For a long moment, it stared after them. Then it chuckled softly.
    By the time the boys arrived downstairs, the girls were already seated at the captain’s table, their eyes sparkling.
    In spite of her recent fright, even Honey was feeling excited. For once, the dark oak surface in front of them had been covered with a snowy white tablecloth. Polished silver had been set at each place, and, in a low bowl in the table’s center, bronze chrysanthemums nodded their shaggy heads as the boys slipped into their chairs.
    “Gleeps, you guys,” Trixie said, pretending to smother a yawn, “we’d just about given you up. We’ve been waiting here for simply ages. What took you so long?”
    Secretly she thought all of them looked handsome in their dark trousers and white shirts. A moment later, when Miss Trask arrived, it was obvious she thought so, too.
    “Am I late?” she asked, her bright blue eyes twinkling at them. “I must say, I feel very honored to be surrounded by such a well-dressed group of young people.”
    “You look very nice yourself,” Honey said softly as she looked at Miss Trask’s plain but well-cut gray dress. “And, oh, you simply must take a sip from my glass! It’s the most delicious drink you can imagine.”
    “Don’t tell me,” Mart said promptly. “Let me guess. Its name is Good-for-Your-Gullet Grog.“
    “Wrong!” Di chortled. “It’s called Maiden’s Delight!”
    Gingerly, Miss Trask raised Honey’s glass to her lips and sipped. “My goodness,” she exclaimed, “that is good punch! What a peculiar name to give it, though. In the old days, we didn’t have to think up fancy words to describe anything like that.”
    “And was the inn a success?” Jim asked.
    Miss Trask sighed. “No, I suppose not. Oh, we had our small share of tourists during the summer. But the rest of the year, I’m afraid, things were very slow.”
    “Well, they’re not slow now,” Trixie pointed out. She looked around the crowded dining room. “The people here tonight can’t be tourists, except for the Bob-Whites, that is. So it looks as if the townsfolk like it here, too.”
    A tall blond waiter appeared suddenly at her elbow. Although he was dressed in the usual pirate costume, he was, Trixie thought, a vast improvement over scruffy Weasel Willis, who had gloomily served them their drinks.
    This waiter quickly and efficiently delivered menus to each of them. Then he grinned and said, “My name’s Smiley Jackson, and when you’re ready, I’ll take your order.” He turned to Miss Trask. “The boss says to tell you he’ll be joining you soon.”
    “I can see why he’s called Smiley,” Mart said when the waiter had gone. “I’ve never seen so many glistening bicuspids in all my life. He must have at least a hundred in his oral cavity.”
    Trixie laughed and studied the menu. “I almost wish Smiley had stayed and practiced some reverse psychology on us. Everything sounds so delicious, I don’t know what to order.”
    “The Weak-Hearted Willies sound terrific,” Dan said. “Listen to the description: ‘Chicken pies, whose interiors will please your palate and whose exteriors will melt in your mouth.’ ”
    “Or we could have Flaming Trask-ka-bobs,” Brian said. “How does this sound? ‘Chunky beef wedges, marinated in Pirate’s Inn’s own special and delicate sauce, skewered, and cooked to

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