six A.M. again. Excuse me if I wade into my food. Take all the time you want. You’ve nothing to do but look at the river and eat. Right now, I have to hurry.”
Food began to load the table—steaming mashed potatoes with rich brown gravy, roast beef, corn, peas, salad, applesauce, hot rolls, jelly, jam, catsup, pickles, milk, coffee, tea. Deep dishes fairly flew from hand to hand. Conversation stopped. Down below, the engines throbbed. A clatter of dishes and the sound of good-natured shouts came up from the crew’s dining room.
The officers ate hurriedly, slid back their chairs, and disappeared. “Three kinds of pie coming,” Captain Martin whispered to Trixie and Hoñey as he left.
When the officers had gone, a tired, red-faced woman slid into a place at the table. She was obviously the new cook. “It’s good to sit down,” she told Trixie. “I’m new here, and everything’s hard to find in the kitchen.”
“It’s no wonder you’re tired,” Trixie said sympathetically. “All this perfectly perfect food!” She patted her full stomach. “Captain Martin said you just joined the Catfish Princess this morning—you and your husband.”
“That’s right. I’m Elena Aguilera, and my husband is Juan Aguilera. He’s having a harder time of it today than I am, because he’s out of condition. The work on deck is hard, and he’s not used to it.”
Trixie listened to the woman’s words, which were spoken in a soft, cultivated voice. Her puzzled expression brought further explanation from Mrs. Aguilera. “We’re glad, my husband and I, to have a chance to join the crew of the Catfish Princess. You see, he is writing a book about the great rivers of America, and I try to take pictures to add to his book. With almost no passenger boats on the river, this is the only way we can get material. I’ve always been a pretty good cook, and my husband knows much about all kinds of boats.”
“You’re a marvelous cook!” Brian, leaning across the table, told her.
“How fascinating to be writing a book!” Trixie added.
“How can you take pictures when we’re on the move?” Dan wondered. “Motion pictures wouldn’t be any good for a book, would they?”
Mrs. Aguilera glanced at him quickly. “You’re right. But I think we will tie up at shore from time to time between here and New Orleans. I think they will stop to let off barges and take on new ones. If it happens when I’m off duty, I’ll get some pictures. What are you girls going to do after you finish your lunch? I’ve been all over the boat, and I know it pretty well. Would you like to go exploring with me?”
“We’d love it! That is, if it isn’t too much trouble. But aren’t you too tired?”
“No. This cup of tea was just what I needed. My quarters are right next to yours, I think. I’ll see you there.”
“Now, what do you think of that?” Trixie asked in a low voice as the girls went up to their cabin. “What do I think of what?”
“That cook. What’s an educated woman like her doing in a job where she has to work so hard?”
“She wanted to get on the river. You heard her say that. Just the same as we did. It’s the only way she can get to see the country from the river. That’s what she wants for her husband’s book.”
“I wonder what he’s like,” Trixie said thoughtfully. “He must look like a normal man, of course, but who is he, really?”
“An author, I suppose, just as Mrs. Aguilera said.” Trixie didn’t seem to hear Honey. “She said she was so tired, and now she’s going all over the boat with us. It’s just odd, that’s all. I can’t figure her out.”
“Oh, Trixie! She wants to be kind to us. Maybe she has daughters of her own. Sometimes I think Mart may be right—that we’re always imagining things.”
“All right. You just wait and see. Something very
strange is going on around here.”
“It’s funny, but I have the same feeling, Trixie. Oh, not about Mrs. Aguilera. I like her.
Stefan Zweig, Anthea Bell