Free The Mystery on Cobbett's Island by Kathryn Kenny Page B

“Maybe when Ed was drawing the chart he had a sudden inspiration to write a sea chantey or something.”
    â€œWell, he sure didn’t get very far,” said Mart. “Erato and Euterpe must have left him in the lurch.”
    â€œWho?” asked Trixie, for once falling into Mart’s linguistic trap.
    â€œThe two Greek muses who preside over poetry and music,” Mart answered loftily.
    â€œOh, no! You’re not satisfied with English any more, so now we have to endure Greek!” Trixie moaned.
    â€œHere, Honey, see if you can make out the tune.You’re our musical authority,” said Jim, picking up the chart and handing it to her.
    After studying it for a minute and humming softly to herself, Honey said, “It’s just a simple bar of music, but it doesn’t mean a thing to me. There isn’t any time indicated, and the notes are all whole notes. Listen.” And she whistled the elusive little tune.
    â€œWell, the main thing is that we’ve found the chart,” said Trixie excitedly. “We were so busy cleaning up this place we never even thought the gazebo might be the building Ed said was in line with the Chain tree.”
    â€œLook, now you can see our porch from here,” added Honey, pointing toward The Moorings.
    â€œYes, and an imaginary line running from the tree through the gazebo would end right where Jim climbed on the railing yesterday,” said Trixie, her voice tense with excitement. “Now all we have to do is follow the chart and find the money!”
    â€œHey, not so fast,” cried Peter who had been studying the chart while the others were talking. “This isn’t going to be as simple as it looks.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Trixie asked. “It looks simple to me with all those landmarks, or rather, sea-marks on it.”
    â€œI know it does,” answered Peter, “but the funny thing is, it doesn’t say where to start sailing. If you takeoff from the dock at The Moorings, which seems the logical place, and follow these directions, you end up somewhere in the vicinity of our own cabbage patch! Something’s obviously wrong with that.”
    â€œOh, bother,” cried Trixie. “Are you sure?”
    â€œLet’s all puzzle over it tonight, and maybe by tomorrow it will make some sense,” suggested Diana.
    â€œYou were right yesterday when you said we should wait a while, so I’ll go along with your suggestion again,” Trixie replied warmly.
    â€œMaybe we’ll get some leads on our sail,” Peter said. “It may help us to see what it’s all about when we get out in the boat. I think I’ll make a copy of the chart, and then you can take this one to The Moorings with you.”
    â€œOkay,” agreed Jim, as the Bob-Whites gathered up the tools and headed back to the shed. Peter drew the chart on the back of an old calendar that had been hanging on the wall, and then walked as far as the gate with his friends.
    â€œWhat time do you want to get started, and where shall we meet?” Trixie asked.
    â€œI’ll pick you up around ten—that is, if the Ice-Box cooperates. Sometimes she acts as though she resented my going sailing and refuses to start,” he answered with a chuckle.
    â€œIf you have any trouble, call me up and maybe I can give you a hand,” Brian offered.
    â€œOh, Brian can make any car run, no matter how old it is,” Honey said, looking admiringly at him.
    â€œThe Bob-Whites are full of hidden talents,” Trixie added laughingly, “but when it comes to sailing, we are complete landlubbers.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I’ll give you the Special Kimball Sailing Course tomorrow,” Peter assured them, “and by the time we get home, you’ll be old hands!”

Chapter 8
A Sailing Lesson
    It was a few minutes before ten when they heard Peter’s car chugging up the driveway, and they all ran