Hydrofoil Mystery by Eric Walters Page A

to see the cards of the person sitting beside me.
    â€œNow, William, in bridge each person has a partner who sits opposite to his seat. So in this game my partner is my lovely wife.”
    Mrs. Bell smiled softly and nodded her head. “You’ll have to be patient with my husband, William. He may be an inventor by profession but he is first and foremost a teacher.”
    â€œAnd the lesson has begun. In bridge, working with your partner you must attempt to take “tricks,” that’s a round of cards played, in order to obtain points toward winning the hand. The secret is not only to be aware of the cards you hold but to know what cards are in your partner’s hand.”
    Sounded an awful lot like poker, except for the partner part. “Can you let your partner know your hand through signals?” I asked.
    â€œNo, no, my dear boy!” the woman sitting beside me exclaimed. “That wouldn’t be fair now would it?”
    â€œDon’t be so hard on the lad,” Bell cautioned. “He is in fact correct.”
    â€œHe is?” the woman said.
    â€œOf course. By the manner in which my partner plays her cards, as well as the way she responds to bidding, I can be reasonably certain which cards she is holding. William, I want you to watch this game closely.”
    They began playing. They exchanged comments about “trumps” and “no trumps” which made no sense to me, and then the person to the left of the dealer started playing her cards.
    The first few hands passed without me making any sense of or seeing any order to their actions. Occasionally Mr. Bell would lean back and mutter a few words to me, which just added to the mystery. My mind strained to try to assign order to the game. Little glimmers of understanding would start to form, and then just as quickly the next move would show them to be wrong. I tried to see the pattern to the bidding and an order in the way the cards were played. I made guesses, some of which were right, about which cards were held by Bell’s partner. The game ended with Mr. and Mrs. Bell winning. They remained seated at the table and their original opponents left and were replaced by another pair. All around the room people were rotating from table to table to play against other partners. I watched intently through three complete games.
    â€œI think it’s time for William to be turning in for the night,” Mrs. Bell said.
    â€œTurning in? It’s hardly ten-thirty!” Bell protested. “He has much to learn here tonight!”
    â€œHe’ll learn more tomorrow after a good night’s sleep. It’s been a long day.”Bell scowled at his wife’s words and then his whole face softened. “Aye, you’re right, and it has been a long day. The lessons in bridge can continue another time. Everyone should bid a goodnight to young William,” he announced.
    I rose to my feet and mumbled good nights in response to their waves and comments.
    There had been a friendliness to their voices—in fact, everybody had been very nice to me all night long, not like the way I expected rich people to treat the servants. I almost felt a little bad about taking the cigars—almost.
    I pushed through the door into the kitchen. Mrs. McCauley-Brown was at the sink washing the last of what must have been a mountain of dishes.
    â€œSo, you see, there was nothing to be nervous about,” she said.
    â€œI wasn’t nervous.”
    â€œWhatever you say,” she said in a tone that made me think she didn’t believe me. “Now come and sit down. I’m going to fix us both a cup of tea. I still haven’t had time to read this correspondence from your mother,” she said, pulling the letter out of the pocket of her apron. “Probably nothing more than a mother bragging about her son, is all it is.”
    I hoped that was all it was. I really didn’t have any idea what my mother had told