The Black Jacket Mystery

ground.
    Trixie gave a big sigh of relief. “Guess there’s nothing broken, after all,” she told Honey.
    Dan snatched his hands from his face and stared at the two girls with an unfriendly scowl. They both noticed a long tear in the sleeve of his black jacket.
    But aside from the bump and the tom sleeve, he seemed to be unhurt.
    “Hi! How do you feel?” Honey asked quickly. Dan touched the bump on his head and winced. “What happened?”
    “Susie brushed you off on a tree limb,” Honey explained. “I hope you aren’t hurt?”
    “Nah!” Dan scrambled unsteadily to his feet and stood swaying. “I’m okay.” He even tried to smile at Honey.
    “You don’t look it,” Trixie stated frankly. “You should have lengthened those stirrups. You then would have had better control of Susie. I guess you don’t know very much about riding.” She didn’t mean to sound smug, but that was how it sounded, even to her own ears.
    Dan Mangan glared at her. “But you know all the answers, don’t you, freckles?”
    Trixie bit back a retort. She knew she deserved the reproof. She was sorry she had spoken that way.
    “And now I suppose you’ll run and tell old Maypenny I tried to break your horse’s leg or something!” Dan sneered, his dark eyes angry.
    “I will not!” Trixie was getting angry. “And you ought to be ashamed to speak about your grandfather so disrespectfully!”
    “My which? Haw! That old square from squaresville?” Dan laughed harshly. “He’s no relation of mine, and quit saying so!” He was brushing the
    snow from his clothes as he spoke, but they both noticed that when he felt the tear in his jacket sleeve he looked worried and fingered it uncertainly, pulling the two edges of the tear together.
    Honey spoke hurriedly and with a friendly smile. “If you’d like, I can mend that for you so it won't even show. ÏÏ1 get a needle and black thread from Mr. Maypenny.”
    For a moment Dan looked as if he intended to accept Honey’s friendly offer. Then he glanced at Trixie and saw her staring critically at him. He flushed and told Honey with a frown, “Don’t bother. I don’t need anybody’s help.”
    Honey drew back as if she had been slapped. It made Trixie furious. “You could at least say thanks!” she told him bitingly. “You’re just lucky if Honey doesn’t tell Mr. Maypenny that you tried to ride one of her horses and you didn’t know how and it was a wonder you didn’t break its neck!” She had to stop for breath.
    “Go on, tell him!” Dan turned to Honey. "And you can tell your rich pa, too, while you’re at it! I won’t be stuck in this hick town long enough for it to make any difference to me!” And with that, Dan Mangan picked up his books and strode off up the bridle path.
    The two girls stared after him. He slipped and slid a bit on the snowy ground, but he stayed on his feet till he went out of sight among the trees.
    “He makes me want to chew nails!” Trixie stormed.
    But Honey looked troubled. “Did you notice how sad he looked when he saw that tear in his jacket?”
    “No, I didn’t,” Trixie snapped. “He looks just plain mean to me, all the time!”
    “Or scared, maybe,” Honey guessed.
    Trixie’s eyes widened. “Hey, maybe it’s horses he’s afraid of. He doesn’t want anybody to know it, and that’s why he pretended he knew how to ride!”
    “That’s it, of course!” Honey agreed quickly. “And he got angry with you because you guessed it!”
    Trixie nodded gravely. “It’s too bad he has to leave soon. We could get Regan to teach him. I bet he’d get over being afraid of horses once he learned to ride.”
    “And if we don’t start riding again pretty soon,” Honey reminded her, “we never will get to Mr. Maypenny’s to look at his almanac.”
    “Come on, then.” Trixie laughed. “But don’t go offering Mr. Dan Mangan a lift when we catch up with him. We’ll just ride right along without him.” But they never did catch up with Dan Mangan that day. For a half mile or so they rode abreast along the bridle path and then went single file as it narrowed. Trixie, riding ahead, studied the imprints of Dan’s boots in the snow, until suddenly they disappeared on a rocky stretch in the shelter of an ancient evergreen. She knew that he had struck out from the trail, probably on a shortcut or to look at the rabbit snares Mr. Maypenny always set at the boundaries of his property to keep “varmints” out of his winter vegetable