at him. “Oh, Mr. Trask! Do you really?”
“I do, indeed.” He grinned. “I figured it out early this evening. I went to an old closet in my office to hang up my costume—and I suddenly realized what the solution had to be. After all these years, it’s the only possible answer.”
The Bob-Whites were listening, fascinated. “How did the captain disappear?” Dan asked. “It was really very simple,” Mr. Trask said. “As you know, the soldiers arrived and marched up to the captain’s table—this table. They surrounded it. Then the captain merely—”
Suddenly, from somewhere behind them, came the sound of a large, heavy tray crashing to the floor. Startled, everyone swung around to see what had happened.
Across the room, Weasel Willis was gazing in horror at what lay at his feet. The beautiful cake, which had taken so many hours to make, lay smashed on the thick red carpet.
Mart groaned. “Gleeps! What a catastrophe! Maybe we ought to offer our assistance.”
Trixie heard Miss Trask say sharply, “I knew you should have dismissed that waiter, Frank.” Out of the corner of her eye, Trixie saw a sudden movement. But when she turned back to look, all she saw were the other diners staring in Weasel’s direction and other waiters hurrying to help him. She also saw Mr. Trask’s chair pushed back from the table—but there was no sign of him in the room at all.
Their host had disappeared!
New Worry • 9
IN THE EXCITEMENT that followed, there was so much confusion that no one but Trixie had noticed that Mr. Trask was no longer with them.
As the rest of the Bob-Whites watched, the door to the kitchen swung open, and a short, dark-haired man rushed into the dining room. He wore white trousers, white tunic, and a tall chef’s hat. His waxed mustache was bristling with rage.
He stared down in disbelief at his ruined creation. You are the one great clumsy ox!” he shouted at Weasel. “For the waiter to trip over his own feet, this is unforgivable!”
“Calm down, Gaston,” Weasel said, mopping vainly at the sticky mess with a damp cloth. “It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.”
“It could only have happened to you,” the chef snapped, almost dancing with anger. “If you would not wear the stupid eye patch, you would have seen where you were going.”
“Oh, for heavens sake,” Brian muttered, “the poor guy can’t help having bad eyesight.”
Trixie turned her head and was just in time to see Gaston snap his fingers at the three men standing behind him. They were obviously his kitchen staff. Although they also wore white caps and aprons, Trixie could see the brightly striped T-shirts and black trousers beneath them.
Honey had an additional concern. “I noticed that Smiley hurried back to the kitchen a few moments ago,” she told Trixie. “I’m sure he’s gone to get us more dessert. I’m sorry about the cake, but I’m not sure I can manage anything at all. How about you?”
But Trixie was still puzzling over Mr. Trask’s empty chair. “He vanished, Honey,” she said slowly. “I don’t know how he did it, but he’s gone!”
“Who’s gone?” Mart asked over his shoulder. Trixie waved a hand at the place where, only minutes before, their host had sat. “He said he knew the solution to the mystery of the captain’s disappearance. I think maybe he’s showing us.” Unbelieving, the Bob-Whites turned to see. “Wow! He’s done it! He’s really done it!” Jim said, excited. “But how?”
“I hardly think,” Miss Trask remarked, still watching the scene on the other side of the room, “that my brother would choose to vanish at such an inconvenient time.”
“But he has!” Di cried. “He really has!”
Miss Trask glanced at her brother’s empty chair. She smiled at Di’s enthusiasm. “He’ll be back,” she said confidently. “I’m sure he’s merely gone to see what he can do to help over there.” Trixie was certain Miss Trask was wrong. She