“Hold on a second, Trix.”  Dan spoke up for the first time.  “Why don’t we take it downstairs, and let Mr. Delanoy open it?  After all, itis his.”

“You’re right, of course, Dan,” Trixie agreed instantly, although she could not suppress a sigh of regret.  The few added minutes ofwaiting stretched interminably before her mind’s eye.

After replacing everything as it had been, the Bob-Whites and Maureen exited the attic; Tom followed, making sure the light was out andthe door was latched.

Downstairs, the excited group gathered around Mr. and Mrs. Delanoy.  “Did you find it?” Tom’s father asked, using a remote control unit tosilence the game show he and his wife were watching.

“We found this case,” Maureen told him.  “It feels like something is inside, but we wanted you to be the one to open it.”

“All right, then.”  Carefully, Mr. Delanoy unfastened the clasps holding the case closed.  A collective sigh could be heard when the topopened to reveal a ukulele, gleaming in a light-colored, exotically grained wood.  A narrow inlay of mother-of-pearl surrounded the opening and decoratedthe curved sides of the instrument.  The strings were present, but when Mr. Delanoy touched one, it shattered into dust.  He lifted it from its case andhanded it to Trixie.

“Oh, my!  What a gorgeous piece,” she breathed, stroking the wood with a gentle hand. 

“Check the back, Trixie,” Honey urged.  “Look and see if it has Hali’a’s mark.”

“Okay, but someone will have to hold the ukulele while I dig that paper out of my pocket.”  Trixie held the instrument out, and Dan took it.  Like Trixie, he reverently touched the body of the ukulele, and studied its frets and pegs.

“Got it.”  Trixie held up the paper.  “Turn it over, Dan, and let me hold this paper next to the back.”

“Looks to me like you’ve got yourself a match there, Trixie Belden,” said Mr. Delanoy.  “Are you going to call the Hawai’ian girl now and let her know?”

“Gleeps, I’d love to!  I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday present!  But Mr. Delanoy, you did say maybe one of your kids would want the ukulele.  Don’t you think you’d better ask them before we tell Hali’a?”

“They say blood is thicker than water, but I reckon that this ukulele belongs to that girl’s blood kin more than it belongs to mine. How do you feel, Tommy?  Maureen?”

“Dad, I agree with you.  The uke is yours, to do what you want to do with it.  I wouldn’t really have any use for it, and Hali’a is preserving a piece of her family history if she takes it back to Hawai’i,” Tom answered.

“I feel the same way Tom does.  You should ask the rest of the kids, though, because I don’t want to speak for them.  But I don’t really think any of them would want the ukulele,” Maureen agreed with an emphatic nod.

“All right, then.  Your mom and I will call the rest of the kids and talk to them.  We should have an answer by Saturday.”  Mr. Delanoy pressed the remote to bring up the television’s sound, and folded his arms as if the matter was settled.

Tom cleared his throat. “Dad, there’s something I’ve been wondering about.  Mr. Maypenny told Dan about the two of you being at the hospital at Pearl Harbor, and even remembers that you shopped together on the day you bought the uke.  I don’t understand why you never told me you knew him.”

Mr. Delanoy turned to look at his son.  Sighing, he turned down the television’s volume again, and began to speak.  “Son, I went to school with Ike Maypenny.  We were good buddies, hunted and fished together.  Ike even dated my sister, Maureen, for awhile, before the war.  When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Ike and I both enlisted in the Navy, even though we were twenty-five, twenty-six years old.  We were assigned to different ships, but both were in the Pacific, and both of us were wounded at the first naval battle of Guadalcanal.  We were shipped to the U.S. Naval Hospital at Pearl Harbor afterward; that’s when we met up and had our day of sightseeing and shopping.  I wasn’t wounded as badly as Ike was, and was able to return to my ship soon after that.  He was still in the hospital, and we didn’t see each other again until after the war.”

“Do you know where Mr. Maypenny was assigned after that?”  Dan seemed curious; the others knew that Mr. Maypenny hadn’t discussed his past with Dan, other than the fact that he had lived on his small piece of land for almost his entire life.

“Dan, I really don’t know.  I only know that when I came back home, he was already living out there in his cabin like a hermit.  He rarely came to town, and when he did, he didn’t come by.  He didn’t have a phone, and neither did we, back then.  I was busy getting to know your mom again, Tommy, and getting acquainted with your brother Kevin – he wasn’t even born when I went away.  I got a veteran’s loan and we built this house.  Before we knew it, you came along, and then the other kids; I was working at the Post Office and getting my dog business started.  I didn’t have time to hear myself think, much less visit an old friend who was ignoring me.”

“But Dad, that still doesn’t explain why you never told us about him.  As much as Tommy and Kevin hunted and fished, I would have thought Mr. Maypenny would let them use his land.”  Maureen’s brow knitted in puzzlement.

“Sweetheart, it was my fault as much as his.  When I decided to raise Irish setters, I was looking for a place to train them for hunting.  I thought about Ike Maypenny and his land.  It was quiet out there, and not many people visited.  I know for a fact he didn’t allow hunting on his land – except what he did himself.  So I felt like it would be a safe place for me to take the dogs.  I went out there one day to put the proposal to him,  Heck, I would’ve paid him for the use of the land.”

“And what happened?” Tenderhearted Honey nibbled a fingernail. 

“He told me no.  Just no.  Didn’t give any reason, nothing.  Well, my Irish temper got up and I said some things I shouldn’t have said.  I even accused him of wanting to retaliate against my sister because she had married someone else during the war.  He told me to get off his land, and since that day I’ve never spoken to him.  That’s why Tommy didn’t know about him.  It wasn’t hard to keep our quarrel to myself since Ike rarely came to town and didn’t talk about it to anyone else.  And I knew better than to suggest that Kevin and Tommy ask him for permission to hunt on his land.  So there was never any reason for them to meet him.”

“Are you still angry with him?” Diana asked.  Her eyes welled with tears of sympathy for both Mr. Maypenny and Mr. Delanoy.

“No.  No, I’m not.”  Mr. Delanoy sighed and looked at Dan.  “I told you I didn’t know where Ike was stationed after I left the naval hospital at Pearl.  I don’t know, for certain, but I heard tell it was someplace in the Atlantic.  I don’t know what he did, but when he came back, he wasn’t the same happy-go-lucky guy I knew.”

“He must have been through a lot,” Mart observed. 

“Yes, I expect that you’re right.  Well, life is too short to hold grudges, and I should try to see Ike again and offer to let bygones be bygones.  We’ve both been as stubborn as a pair of old mules.”

“Dad, we’d better get going,” Maureen said after checking her watch.  “I know Diana has homework to do. Thanks for letting us look for the ukulele; I know I was almost as excited as the kids.” 

The week seemed to drag for Trixie.  Every day, she sought out Tom Delanoy to ask if his father had decided to let one of his children have the ukulele, or to offer it to Miss Hali’a.  By Thursday, Tom raised his hand as soon as he saw her, to forestall the inevitable question.  “Trix, I promise to tell you the minute my dad lets me know.  In fact, he might even call you himself.  So there’s no need for you to waste your breath asking me what he’s going to do.”

“I’m sorry, Tom!”  Trixie was immediately contrite.  “I didn’t mean to be a pest – it’s just that I’m so excited, I’m just not thinking very straight.”

Tom smiled and ruffled her wayward curls.  “I know you’re excited about returning a piece of your friend’s family history to her,” he said.

Nearly two weeks had passed, and Trixie still had not heard form Mr. Delanoy.  As the Bob-Whites drove to their dance class, the girls each speculated on what Hali’a would do when she learned of the uke’s existence, and argued over the best way to show it to her.

“I think we should just bring it to the recital,” suggested Diana.  “We can present it to her at the end of the program.  It would be the perfect way to finish up the dance class.”

“It would be perfect, but I don’t know if we should give her such a big surprise as that,” Honey contradicted. “I wouldn’t want her to go into a dead faint from shock or anything!”

“Girls, we have only two more weeks of lessons before the recital,” Miss Hali’a said to the assembled hula students.  “Next week, I would like each of you to wear your costumes to class.  We’ll use the class time as a dress rehearsal.  Mrs. Wheeler will be accompanying all three groups on the piano, and Mart Belden and Dan Mangan will play their guitars.  So I’m very excited about our music.  Everyone, please give Mart and Dan a big hand!”  

The assembly erupted with applause and the two boys blushed as Miss Hali’a gestured for them to stand.  “Mart and Dan have also made the lovely scenic background for us.  Thank you, Mart and Dan!”

After everyone else had left, the Bob-Whites lingered to speak to Hali’a.  But before any of them could utter a word, Hali’a came up to them and gave each of them a hug in turn.

“I just want to thank you all for welcoming me and taking so much interest in my search for my great-grandfather’s ukulele.  I realize it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but when I had the opportunity to come to New York, I knew I had to try to locate it.  But even if the ukulele is lost for good, I’ve found some wonderful friends here in Westchester County.  You must keep in touch, and if you ever visit Hawai’i, I insist that you visit me and allow me to show you some real Hawai’ian hospitality.”

Tears glistened in Hali’a’s dark eyes, and it was all Trixie could do to keep from blurting out that she believed they had indeed found the ukulele.  But she forced herself to remain silent.  Stealing a glance at her friends, she could tell that they all shared the same struggle.  After another round of hugs, they quietly left the dance studio and headed back toward Sleepyside in the Bob-White station wagon.

“Trixie!  There is a message for you to call Mike Delanoy.”  Trixie’s mother greeted her as she entered the sunny kitchen of Crabapple Farm.

“Oh, Moms!  I hardly know whether to be excited or scared!”  Trixie gulped, realizing that this call would either answer a prayer or dash a dream for Hali’a.  And me, too, she thought.

“Go ahead and call him.  He said he’d be at home until about four o’clock.”  Mrs. Belden finished drying the last clean dish and replaced it into the cupboard.

Trixie picked up the hall telephone as if it were a fragile piece of china, and dialed the Delanoys’ number.  She swallowed again as she listened to the pone ring two, then three, then four times.  Just as she was certain that no one was at home, a deep voice answered “Hello, this is the Delanoys’ residence.”

“M-m-mister Delanoy, it’s Trixie Belden.  My mother said you called.”

“Hello, Trixie.  Thanks for calling me back.” Mr. Delanoy’s voice sounded spookily like Tom’s over the telephone.  “I thought you’d like to know.  I finally was able to speak to each of my children, and every one of them said I should give the ukulele back to your Hawai’ian friend, if it turns out to be the one she’s looking for.”

“Oh, Mr. Delanoy!  I’m so ... so ... Oh, I don’t know what I am!”  She tugged on one of her curls as she spoke.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d like to come and watch your hula recital, and maybe I could present the ukulele to your friend afterward.”

“Sure, that would be fine.  I know Hali’a will be thrilled.  Let me give you the details of the recital.”  Trixie rattled off the date, time, and location of the hula recital, and Mr. Delanoy repeated the information after her.

As soon as she hung up the phone, Trixie went in search of her brother Mart, and told him the news.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Mart?  And say … I have an even more exciting idea!”

“Pray elucidate, my dear Holmes,” Mart replied.  “What fantastical ideas have been ricocheting around in your cranium?”  He grinned as he said the words, and Trixie grinned back at him.

“Whatever!  Listen to this.  You know that Mr. Delanoy said that he and Mr. Maypenny used to be close friends, but they had that dispute about using Mr. Maypenny’s land for training the hunting dogs?  He also said it was time to make up the quarrel.  Why don’t I – and Honey, too – invite Mr. M. to the recital, and then maneuver it so that he and Mr. Delanoy have a chance to speak? ”

“Sis, I know you want to get the two of them to make up.  But don’t you think this is something they need to do on their own?”  Mart’s tone was doubtful.  “I think it would be fine to invite both of them to attend the recital, but trying to get them together … I don’t think so.”

“You might be right.  But Mr. Delanoy did say it was time to let bygones be bygones.  Surely if they are both there, he’ll try to speak to Mr. Maypenny.”  Trixie conceded that trying to control other people’s reactions wasn’t the best idea.  But she didn’t stop thinking about trying to get the Wheelers’ gamekeeper to resume his old friendship.

“When Honey and I go riding today, I’ll suggest that we visit Mr. Maypenny.  You know, he was the one who told Dan that Tom’s dad had a ukulele.  So maybe he isn’t holding a grudge any more, either.”  She tossed her head to emphasize her words.

“Go ahead.  I’m sure Mr. M. would enjoy watching the dance.  I just want to know one thing:  will we all have to sit through the entire recital of every class at the dance studio?”  Mart looked apprehensive.

“Of course, Honey and Di and I will have to stay for the whole thing.  But all of the hula classes are doing their pieces right before the intermission.  Hali’a said that should put it about an hour after the recital starts.  Of course, you and Dan need to be there and be ready – that’s if you still want to play for us,” Trixie told him.

“Sure we do, Trix!  We promised, didn’t we?  Jim Frayne’s not the only honorable male around.”  Mart grinned, as Trixie blushed. 

Later, Trixie inhaled the fresh, pine-scented air of the preserve as she and Honey rode Lady and Susie along the trails.  Since it was only the middle of May, the heat was not oppressive.  Fallen pine needles and dry leaves from the previous autumn crunched under the horses’ hooves, and she could identify thecries of several birds in the quiet surroundings.  She had told Honey of her idea to invite Mr. Maypenny to the recital, and Honey had been enthusiastic.

“Oh, Trix, wouldn’t it be just wonderful if Mr. M and Mr. Delanoy made up their quarrel and were friends again?  Just the way that Hali’a’s ukulele was lost and is found, they could find the friendship they lost.  Does that make any sense?” 

“You know, I’m wondering what happened to Mr. M to change him,” Trixie mused.  “Mr. Delanoy thought he went to the Atlantic fleet, but he said he really didn’t know what happened to his old friend – just that he was already back here and was different when Mr. Delanoy got back from the war.”

Honey guided Lady toward the branch of the trail which led to Mr. Maypenny’s cabin.  “I don’t see that anything could be wrong with inviting Mr. M. to the recital, and we could ask him what he did after he left Hawai’i; I mean, I’m sure he’d tell us if he didn’t want to talk about it.” 

Soon they entered the clearing which held Mr. Maypenny’s snug log cabin.  Mr. Maypenny himself was outside in his fenced-in garden, picking peas and digging tiny new potatoes.  He raised his head at the sound of the horses’ nickering, and gave the girls a friendly wave.

“Good afternoon, girls,” the gamekeeper greeted them.  “I hope you two can come inside and sit a spell. I’ve got a pitcher of fresh lemonade ready to drink as soon as I finish picking these peas and potatoes.  They’ll make a mighty fine supper tonight, along with the stewed rabbit I pulled out of the freezer this morning.”

“Mr. Maypenny, that sounds absolutely delicious!” Trixie exclaimed.  “We were hoping you’d be home this afternoon.”

The older man straightened up and stretched himself, then exited his garden, carefully latching the gate.  Trixie and Honey dismounted and tied their horses’ leads to the hitching post in front of the cabin.  Susie and Lady stretched their necks and in a moment they were cropping the grass.

Inside the cabin, Mr. Maypenny poured a glass of lemonade for each of them and sat down.  Although Trixie took a sip of her drink and tried to enjoy the tart refreshment, her mind was busy, testing and discarding questions that might get Mr. Maypenny to open up about his wartime activity.  The funny thing is, I’ve always thought he was a lot older - too old to have been in the war.  Even though he is a lot older than Dad, I guess I just thoughthe was as old as my granddad would be now.

“What’s on your mind, Trixie?” Mr. Maypenny interrupted her jumbled thoughts.  “If there’s something you want to ask, just go ahead and ask.”  His eyes twinkled with laughter.

“You can read me like a book,” Trixie admitted.  “As a matter of fact, I, that is, Honey and I were wondering what you did after Mr. Delanoy went back to his ship during the war.”

A deafening silence followed.  Mr. Maypenny’s eyes lost their twinkle as his face took on a bleak, closed expression.  She began to wish desperately that she could take back her words.

“What Trixie means is that, um, well, Mr. Delanoy told us you were wounded worse than he was and had to stay in the hospital longer.  He said he lost track of you and when he came back to Sleepyside after the war, you were already here.”  Honey rushed to explain the reason behind Trixie’s seemingly random question.

The older man sighed.  “Did he also tell you I practically ran him off my land at gunpoint?  And that I haven’t spoken to him for twenty-seven years?  Did he tell you why I became almost a hermit?”

“Well, he did tell us that you wouldn’t let him use your property to train his dogs for hunting,” Honey said. “He didn’t say you ran him off at gunpoint.  And he didn’t seem to know what had happened to you in the war.  Is it something you feel like telling us?”

Mr. Maypenny’s bleak expression deepened to a flinty hardness, and the lines in his face were like sharp grooves cut into the stone.  He stared past the two girls as if seeing something they could not see.  Trixie felt more and more as if she and Honey were intruding, and debated with herself whether or not they should simply get up and leave him alone.  Glancing at Honey, she could tell her friend felt the same way.

Suddenly, after what seemed an eternity, Mr. Maypenny spoke again.  “It’s something I’ve kept quiet about for too long.  I might as well tell you girls about it, because it’s not helping anyone to keep it to myself.”  He stood and walked over to the small window above the counter, where he washed his dishes in an old-fashioned enamel basin.  Staring out at the peaceful wooded scene, he began to speak.

“I did have a pretty bad shrapnel wound in my leg, and it wasn’t healed by the time Mike Delanoy went back to his ship.  But that’s not why I wasn’t sent back.  I was suffering from what they called ‘battle fatigue’ back then – sometimes it’s called ‘combat stress reaction’.”  He snorted in disgust, as if the phrase was offensive to him.  “During the battle of Guadalcanal, I was trapped in the radio room of my ship.  I was wounded, but I made it out of there.  Some of my buddies …” His voice caught, and Trixie found herself unable to look at him as he struggled for composure.  After a few more moments of silence, he cleared his throat and added in a roughened voice, “Well, I hope you girls never have to find out what it’s like to be in combat.  The guilt …” 

Once again, Mr. Maypenny’s face took on a shadowed, faraway look; his hands were jammed into his pockets.  Trixie and Honey waited for several long minutes before he resumed his story.

“My body healed, but the doctors decided I was unfit for combat, and gave me a medical discharge.  I came back to Sleepyside, out to this land that had been in my family for a hundred years or more.  My parents had died in an automobile accident while I was away in the Navy, and I was alone; my brother had moved to the city.  Even if we hadn’t quarreled, there was no way I was going to get in a train and be around such crowds.  I shut myself away from the world here, and tried to be self-sufficient.  I had failed some of the people who had relied on me, and I didn’t want to get attached to anyone else, who I might fail, too.” 

The gamekeeper paced the narrow space of the cabin’s kitchen in silence for a few moments.  Finally, he began to speak again.

“I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone else, either.  Mr. Lytell and Mr. Frayne seemed to understand how I felt; they had both served in the First World War.  So for a few years, I grew all of my vegetables, killed all of my meat, and shopped only for the things I couldn’t grow or make: coffee, sugar, flour, salt.  I trapped foxes and other critters to make money to buy the things I needed and to pay my taxes.”

“Weren’t you lonely sometimes?” asked kindhearted Honey, with tears in her eyes.

“I guess I was lonely, but I was too busy building a wall around myself to realize it.  I wasn’t going to let myself get attached to other people; not going to get involved with them.  It was pretty easy until Mike Delanoy came back.  He was an old school buddy of mine; we used to hunt together before he married; I even used to date his sister before the war.  She had joined the Navy as a nurse, married a guy she met during the war, and moved out to somewhere in the Midwest afterward.  I was glad when I found out, because a fine girl like her shouldn’t have been mixed up with a weak coward like me.”

“There’s no way I’d ever call you weak or a coward, Mr. Maypenny!”  Trixie jumped up, eyes blazing and fists clenched.

“Well, that’s the way I felt about it at the time.  I had nightmares about that battle; the shells, the wounded men screaming; the ship burning as it sank out of sight.  Worst of all, even though I was wounded, I wasn’t completely helpless.  But I couldn’t help anyone else …” his voice trailed off.  “Back here, the least thing – like a car backfiring – could set off a flashback for me.  When I was around other people, they did too many things I couldn’t control, and when I was surprised by things, I couldn’t cope with the adrenaline surge.”

“How did you ever get past that – or did you get past it?”  Trixie was unfailingly curious.

“As I was saying, Mike Delanoy was an old friend of mine.  When he got back, he was busy getting caught up with his life for quite awhile.  I didn’t blame him – he had a wife and a little son he’d never seen.  He bought a house, went to work at the Post Office, started buying and breeding his dogs.  He came out a couple of times when I wasn’t here and left a note, but I didn’t get back to him.  I just wanted to be left alone.  Then one day he came out, looking for a quiet place to train his dogs for hunting.  It was a bad day for me and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. When I answered the door, he started into his speech.  Like I told you, I didn’t want to depend on anyone, or to let anyone depend on me.  I told him to get out and to never ask me again.”

Mr. Maypenny had turned to face the window again, his jaw set in a firm line, but with a tear trickling down his weathered cheek.  Once more, he stared intently out the small window.  Trixie wondered what sight he saw in his mind, for he was obviously unaware of the beautiful soft spring afternoon, in the dappled shade of the clearing where his cabin stood.

“I was wrong to shut him out … him and everyone else, too.  The day you girls rode into this clearing and started talking to me was a lucky day for me.  It was the day when I decided that getting involved with other people is what life is all about.  If it hadn’t been for you girls and that day, I would never have had the chance to know Dan, and that would have left me with a hole in my heart.  After that day, I decided to get involved with the local veterans’ organization.  There were young men coming home from Vietnam who felt the same things I felt.  I decided to let them know there was someone whocared about them and appreciated their service.  Mostly I write to them.  But a few times I have gone to visit the wounded vets, just to let them know Iappreciate them.”

Honey jumped up and ran the short distance to Mr. Maypenny and gave him a hug.  “That’s wonderful!  I wonder if we could do something like that, too.  That would be a wonderful Bob-White project, don’t you think, Trix?” She turned to look at her friend.

“Yes, let’s take it to the guys at our next meeting,” Trixie agreed.  “We could even call an emergency meeting.” She paced back and forth in the tiny cabin, her forehead furrowed in thought.  Finally, she stopped pacing and cleared her throat.

“Mr. Maypenny, we wanted to invite you to our dance recital.  Mr. and Mrs. Delanoy are coming, and we were going to try to surprise you and try to get you talking to him again.  But maybe the surprise part isn’t such a good idea.  We’d like for you to come, and we hope you will talk to him.  He’s not angry at you, either, and as much as told us he’d like to let bygones be bygones.  What do you say?”  

“Girls, I won’t lie to you.  Crowds make me nervous.  I’d like to come and watch you dance and I’d even speak to my old buddy again.  But I don’t know if I could sit in a room with a hundred or so people for … how long?  A couple of hours?”   Mr. Maypenny pulled a faded red bandana from his pocket and blew his nose loudly.

“Ah, yes, it would be a couple of hours all together.  But if you wanted to come about an hour after the recital starts, and just stay until the hula is finished, you’d probably only be there for … um … forty-five minutes or so,” Honey estimated.

“I’ll think about it, girls.  I’ll think about it and let you know.”  Mr. Maypenny turned around to face Honey and Trixie and smiled at them.  “But I’ll go ahead and write to Mike Delanoy and invite him to come out and bring one of his dogs.  I guess I could get used to having people around; I’m going to be awfully lonely when Daniel goes away to college in the fall.”