Monday morning saw the Beldens, Honey, and Dan gathered atthe bus stop.  “That was a great cookout yesterday,” Dan said.  “I’m sorry Mr.M. missed it; he wasn’t feeling well.  But I was telling him about Hali’a andthe ukulele she’s looking for, and guess what?”

“What?” asked Honey agreeably.

“He knows of another ukulele that might be here inSleepyside.  And guess who it belongs to?”

“Dan!  You’re killing me here.  Just tell us,” Trixiebegged.

“Yes, elucidate, my dear Daniel,” added Mart, his blue eyestwinkling.  “Don’t keep us in suspense; my dear little shamus sibling is aboutto expire.” 

“Well, I was telling Mr. M about the cookout and when I gotto the part about Hali’a playing the ukulele he started looking real interested,”Dan began.  Just then, the rumble of the school bus became audible as it beganthe climb up the hill toward the stop at the bottom of the Wheelers’ drive.  “It’stoo noisy on the bus, and I think it’ll be too hard for everyone to hear.  I’lltell you at lunch,” he promised.

All morning long, Trixie had a hard time concentrating onher studies.   She had promised herself not to get excited about any more ukulelesshe discovered in Sleepyside.  There were several people who owned oldinstruments, but the ones she had discovered were either old “TV Pal” plasticukes from the 1950s, or nostalgic keepsakes left over from the “Roaring 20s”.  Mrs.Vanderpoel had one such keepsake in her attic, which the late Mr. Vanderpoelhad strummed while he was courting young Miss Anna Brinker.  Despite her bestintentions, though, Trixie found herself daydreaming about presenting Hali’awith the long-lost ukulele, and Hali’a bursting into tears of joy.

“…And by what process is argon reduced to a liquid state,Miss Belden?”  Trixie jumped as her mind returned to her chemistry classroomwith a start.

“Argon?  Um, well, … uh, it’s a gas at  room temperature, so… um,  you’d have to freeze it.”  She sat up and looked Mr. Perrin, thechemistry teacher, and smiled.  My study session with Jim Saturday afternoondid pay off!

The three Bob-white girls had first lunch period, while Martand Dan’s lunch period began only seven minutes before the girls returned toclass.   Trixie was convinced she wouldn’t be able to eat a thing until shecould hear Dan’s story, and was mechanically moving along the line when Dianarushed into the cafeteria and joined her.  Honey followed at a more sedatepace.

“Trixie, Honey, you’ll never guess!  You’ll absolutely,positively never guess!”  Diana was bouncing in excitement, first grabbing herfriends’ hands, and then hugging herself.  “There’s another ukulele inSleepyside that we never knew about!  I’ll tell you as soon as we sit down.”

“Di, Dan was telling us that he knows about another one, too,”Honey said.  “Maybe we should wait for the guys.”   

“Honey, we’ll only have a few minutes to talk to Dan andMart if we wait,” Trixie pointed out.  “We might not have time to listen toboth Dan and Di.” 

“Gosh, I don’t know if I can stand to wait for them!  It wastoo late to call you last night when I found out.”  Diana looked thoughtful. “Why can’t I go ahead and tell you my news now, and then if we have time, I’lltell the boys after Dan tells his story?  That way, we might have two differentleads to follow.”

“Good idea, Di!”  Trixie was jubilant at the prospect of twodifferent leads. 

“Well, I think that would be okay,” Honey agreed.  “I was sodisappointed that your father’s uke wasn’t the right one, Trix!  It would justbe perfectly perfect if Hali’a can go home with her great-uncle’s ukulele – orat least a picture of it.”

The girls made their way to the Bob-Whites’ usual lunchtable, and while Trixie and Honey opened their milk cartons, Diana launchedinto her story.

“When we got home Sunday night, my sisters were so excitedover the whole afternoon that Mummy couldn’t do anything with them.  Maureenand Patty came home from their weekend off, and Barbie and Margie would hardlylet them get unpacked.”  Diana paused to take a breath, and Trixie broke in. 

“I know – Bobby was the same way!  But what does that haveto do with another ukulele, Di?”

Diana looked hurt for a second.  “That’s what I’m trying totell you, Trixie!  Once their bags were unpacked, Maureen and Patty sat down withthe girls and got them to talk about what was getting them so wild.  Finally,they called me to come in and help.  Margie and Barbie were both trying to talkat once, and neither of them was saying anything that made sense.  I told themabout Hali’a and the ukulele she’s trying to find.  Maureen looked like she hadsomething to say, so I asked her if she knew anyone in Sleepyside who had anold ukulele.  I couldn’t believe it when she said her dad had one that camefrom Hawai’i – back during World War II!”

“Gosh!  I can’t believe we didn’t think to ask theDelanoys,” Trixie lamented.  “I guess I just assumed Tom’s dad was too old.”

“Maureen said her parents were leaving town today and theywon’t be back for a week.  So we won’t be able to ask Mr. Delanoy until nextweek.”

“Seven more days!  I’ll just die if I can’t find outanything before that!”  Trixie threw herself back in her cafeteria chair.

“Oh, here come the boys,” Honey exclaimed.  “I hope they’llhave some good news for us.”

Mart and Dan sat down at the table.  As Diana began to eather lunch, Dan spoke up.  “You weren’t on the bus today, Di, but I told theothers that Mr. M said he knew of another ukulele in Sleepyside.  He said TomDelanoy’s dad brought one home from Hawai’i during the Second World War.  Ofcourse, he doesn’t know if Mr. Delanoy still has it.”

“Oh, Dan!  That’s exactly what Di was just telling us.  Atleast, she was telling us that Maureen Delanoy, her sisters’ nanny, said thather dad used to have a ukulele, and she thinks it’s still up in their attic,but the Delanoys are out of town and they won’t be back for a week!  Can youbelieve it?”  Honey paused for breath after her convoluted explanation.  “Danand Di, you two have to come over this afternoon, and we’ll talk to Tom.  Maybehe knows something more about the uke.”

Diana received permission to ride the bus home to Honey’shouse after school, and the five Bob-Whites hurried to the Wheeler garage tosee Tom as soon as they got off the bus.  However, the chauffeur had drivenMrs. Wheeler into the city to do some shopping; later, she was to meet herhusband for dinner and attend a performance of the ballet.  There was no waythey could talk to Tom before the following day.

“I’ve got to get busy patrolling,” Dan said.  “We’ve waitedthis long; the ukulele isn’t going anywhere this week.”

“And I’ve got to take care of the chickens and mow the grassbefore Dad gets home,” added Mart.  “Dan’s right.”

“Di, as long as you’re already here, how about riding withus?  Maybe you can stay for supper, and I’ll drive you home after we eat,”Honey suggested.

“Just let me run home and change,” Trixie said.  “I knowMoms won’t mind me exercising the horses, but I’ll have to go right homeafterward.”

As they rode, the three girls chattered with excitement overthe potential discovery of the missing ukulele.  Despite the disappointments sofar in Hali’a’s search, Trixie was stubbornly convinced that the Bob-Whiteswould locate the instrument.

“We’d better not say anything to Hali’a about it on Saturday,though.  I don’t want to say anything else until we at least find out whetherMr. Delanoy still has the uke,” she said with a sigh.

“You’re right, Trix,” Diana agreed.  “It’ll sure be a longweek, though.”  Honey nodded her agreement.

By Saturday, Mart and Dan had bought the canvas for theirbackdrop, and figured out how to mount it in panels backstage.  With Diana’shelp, they had drawn a design for a beach scene, with palm trees, blue ocean,and sky.  The five Bob-Whites crowded into the BWG station wagon to drive toWhite Plains so that Dan and Mart could begin transferring their design to thecanvas during the hula class.  Miss Rhonda had given permission for the groupto stay for two hours after classes finished for the day.

It was hard for the three girls to keep the news about Mr.Delanoy’s ukulele to themselves during hula class, but they didn’t want toraise Hali’a’s hopes until they could find out – at the very least – if he stillhad the instrument.  Trixie concentrated on her movements; now that she had thetechniques mastered, she needed to project the emotions behind the rhythmicswaying and graceful gestures.  She watched Honey and Diana, who always seemedto dance with such effortless grace.  Maybe I’ll never be as good as theyare, she thought.  But I’m not quitting!

“Girls, imagine yourselves in the music,” Miss Hali’a instructed. “Feel the sand under your feet; feel the warm sun on your head.  Smell thefragrance of the flowers in your lei.  Think about the words to this song.”

Trixie inhaled deeply, but all she could smell was theslightly dusty odor of the stage’s heavy velvet curtains.  Oh well, at leastit’s hot enough back here to pretend I’m dancing on a sunny beach.  Shegrinned suddenly.  It’s going to be fun.  I’ve dreaded the recital, but it’sgoing to be fine. No matter what!

Finally, after an endless weekend, it was Monday.  Trixieand Honey had finally been able to speak with Tom Delanoy about the ukulele,and he had agreed to take them to see his parents after the elder Delanoysreturned to Sleepyside.

“I don’t know if it’s still at their house, or if it wasgiven away at some point,” he told them.  “My dad didn’t play it, and hewouldn’t let us kids use it for a toy.  We begged him for a TV Pal and we didhave a couple of those to share.  But I don’t know what ever happened to thatuke of his.”

Monday afternoon, when the Beldens and Honey arrived at theWheeler stables to exercise the horses, Tom was waiting for them.  “I talked tomy dad, and he said you could go up into the attic and look for the ukuleletonight.  Maureen is going to meet us there with Diana.  After supper will be agood time for my parents, he said.  We’ll leave from here at seven o’clock.” The handsome chauffeur's face wore a broad grin.

“Gleeps!  I don’t know if I can live that long!”  Trixiepulled her own hair in impatience.

“Since you have survived the past interval of seven diurnalcycles, I have total confidence that you will continue to do so for a few morehours,” Mart told her, with a ruffle of her sandy curls. 

Regan, standing at the stable door, chuckled.  “Still MissFidget!” he said, using his old nickname for Trixie.  “You kids go ahead andride – I’ll call Dan and let him know the plan.  He’d like to go.  Maybe Mr.Maypenny would like to ride along, too.”

As she saddled her old favorite, the little mare Susie,Trixie could hear Regan and Tom talking.

“Remember how I said Maypenny wasn’t a Sleepyside name? Back when Mr. Wheeler first hired him as gamekeeper?” Tom asked.  “Now I’mlearning that my own dad knew the guy years ago, before my parents were evenmarried.  I've talked about Mr. M. around my dad dozens of times, but he'snever let on that they knew each other, let alone were once friends.  Everyonewho works at the Post Office knows everyone else in Sleepyside.  And you knowhow older people always have to tell you the life history of everyone you meet.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it back in thecity,” Regan answered.  “You meet too many people to keep track of all ofthem.  But in a village the size of Sleepyside, I’ve noticed that everyoneknows everyone else – and they keep tabs on ’em.”  The redheaded groomscratched his head and grinned.  “As Trixie would say, it’s very mysterious.”  

Susie snuffled and pranced in her eagerness to get outside,and Trixie could hear nothing more of the men’s conversation.  She glanced atHoney, but her friend was farther from the door than she was, and Honey’smount, Strawberry, was more impatient than Susie, blowing and raking the stablefloor with his hooves.  Neither was Mart in a position to overhear Tom andRegan, as he slipped the bridle over Starlight’s head and cinched his saddlegirth.

As they rode, Trixie told her brother and friend about thesnatch of conversation she had heard.  “Regan was right, it is verymysterious!  Why in the world would Mr. Delanoy not have told Tom about Mr.Maypenny?  It seems like they must have been friends, if they were close enoughto shop for souvenirs together.  Why wouldn’t they have gotten together afterthe war, when both of them are right here?” 

“Oh, Trixie, maybe there was some feud that came up later,”Honey suggested.  “Just like your dad and old Mr. Frayne.  It’s sad, because Ithink Mr. Delanoy is a nice man, and of course, Mr. Maypenny is just … well,just wonderful.”

“Speculation is fruitless,” Mart reminded them.  “Maybe youcan ask one of them about it, after we see the ukulele.  But if you ask me, youshould let sleeping dogs lie.”

Although Trixie believed she wouldn’t be able to eat a bitein her excitement, the ride had whetted her appetite, and she did justice toher mother’s birthday dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, peas, and glazedcarrots, in spite of checking the time every few minutes.  Honey, Di, and Danarrived just in time for dessert of chocolate birthday cake and ice cream.  Eachhad brought a small wrapped gift for her.  

“I hope you all don’t mind,” Trixie apologized.  “I’m too excitedto open any gifts right now, but I’ll do it when we get back from theDelanoys’.  Hurry, Mart, and let’s get the table cleared, so we can meet Tom.”

Mrs. Belden shooed them off.  “Nonsense, Trixie.  It’s yourbirthday.  I’ll take care of the dishes tonight,” she said.  “Just wash up andrun on over to Honey’s.  By the time you get to the Manor House it should benearly seven.”

Tom pulled up and parked in front of a modest, one andone-half story house on a quiet, shaded street at the edge of the residential part ofSleepyside.  As the Beldens, Dan, and Honey exited the car, Tom’s sisterMaureen pulled up behind him, with Diana in the front passenger seat of herlittle blue Volkswagen.  Diana jumped out of the car the instant it stoppedrunning, and ran to meet her friends.

“Oh!  I’m so excited I can hardly stand it!”  Dianaexclaimed.  “Do you have the drawing of Hali’a’s great-grandfather’s mark,Trixie?”

“It’s right here in my pocket.”  Trixie patted the pocket ofher jeans.

Tom and Maureen greeted each other and the group ascendedthe two steps to the senior Delanoys’ front porch.  Tom hadn’t even touched thedoorbell before the front door was opened by a short, plump, gray-haired womanthe Bob-Whites recognized as his mother.  Mrs. Delanoy ushered the group insideand went to the back door to call her husband.  “Mike!  The kids are here. Tommy and Maureen have the Bob-Whites with them.”

As they waited for Mr. Delanoy to come inside from his dogkennels, Mrs. Delanoy chattered about her latest grandchild.  Trixie fidgeted withimpatience while she kept glancing out the window of the Delanoys’ dining roomto see if she could see Tom’s dad.  Finally, the click of the kitchen doorannounced his arrival.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to see you young people,” Mr. Delanoygreeted them, shaking hands with the boys and his son, and giving his daughtera peck on the cheek.  “How is that runt of a dog doing these days?”

“He’s still as active as a pup,” Mart answered truthfully. The Beldens’ Irish setter, Reddy, had started life as the runt of the litter. Mr. Delanoy bred and raised setters for show and for hunting.  He had offeredReddy to the Beldens for a very low price, since he wouldn’t be a show dog. Reddy had outgrown his runt status long ago.

“That’s good to hear!”  Mr. Delanoy chuckled.  “I hear youkids are looking for a special ukulele.  Why do you think mine could be theone?”

Trixie, Honey and Diana all spoke at once, attempting totell Hali’a’s story.  Finally, Mr. Delanoy held up a hand.

“Never mind!”  He gave a booming laugh.  “It really doesn’tmatter.  I don’t have any real use for that uke, and if none of my kids wantit, I’d be happy to let the little lady have it.  It’s probably up in theattic.  Do you know where it is, Viv, honey?” he asked his wife.

“I’m pretty sure it’s put away in your old footlocker; ifnot, it’s in my cedar chest,” Mrs. Delanoy replied.  “You know which one thatis, don’t you, Maureen?”

“Yes, Mom.  Is it locked?”

“It is, but here’s the key.  I got it out since I knew youwere going up there.”  Mrs. Delanoy reached into the pocket of her apron andpulled out a small key on a bright red ribbon.

The group of teens followed Tom and Maureen up the steps tothe attic, actually a sloped space under the eaves, which ran across the wholefront of the house, and was entered by way of a low door in an upstairsbedroom.

Once inside the attic, Trixie and Diana were the only oneswho could stand fully upright.  As they looked around, Trixie saw a half-dozenlarge cardboard cartons, another half-dozen mismatched suitcases, a collectionof slightly worn toys and doll furniture, and an old baby crib.  At first itseemed like a jumble, but she systematically tracked the area and in a moment,spotted a cedar chest against the wall which backed up to the bedroom, justbeyond a box full of old clothes.  A battered footlocker was on the other sideof the cedar chest.

“Over here, guys!” she called.  “I’ve found the chest andthe footlocker.”

Maureen hurried over, still clutching a baby doll whichcried “mama” as she set it down.  “How about this?” she asked.  “I thought Momgave away this doll.  It was my favorite.”  She dropped onto her knees in frontof the cedar chest and fitted the small key into its lock.

Trixie held her breath, and she could feel that Diana andHoney – maybe even Mart and Dan – were holding their breaths, too. 

“Oh, my!  Look at this stuff!”  Carefully, Maureen liftedsets of embroidered pillowcases, a dainty embroidered christening dress andbonnet wrapped in tissue paper, and a set of silver napkin rings.  A dove-greysuit with matching pumps and a feather-trimmed hat followed.

“This is Mom’s wedding suit.”  Maureen looked for a place toset the items she removed, but the floor was dusty, so Diana took the suit fromher.  Although she went all the way to the bottom of the chest, Maureen did notlocate a ukulele.

“There’s still the footlocker,” she reminded theBob-Whites.  “I’d say it’s more likely to be there.”  She carefully replacedthe items in the cedar chest and moved down to the footlocker.  It was notlocked, and after removing a small box of military medals and some manualsrelated to proper conduct of a member of the United States Navy, she lifted outtwo sets of sailor’s uniforms, which Mart held for her.  Underneath theuniforms was an instrument case, and Trixie nearly squealed as Maureen pulledit out.

“Oh, open it, please,” she pleaded.