The Black Jacket Mystery

have a fit.” She drew Trixie away before there could be any more argument.
    “I still don’t understand it,” Trixie said crossly as they rode home along the trail a few minutes later.
    “I suppose it’s simple enough.” Honey sighed. “We saw Mr. Maypenny up in the oak grove. And it was so shadowy up among those trees that we both made a mistake about what he was wearing. Those snow patches are so bright up there when the sun hits them that it probably dazzled our eyes.”
    “Maybe, but I still don’t believe it,” Trixie insisted stubbornly. “Look up there, on top of that rock—up ahead. That must be over fifty yards away, and I can see a baby squirrel sitting there just as plain as if he were only ten feet from us. Well, if we can see things that far away when the woods are shadowier than they were half an hour ago, why, we must have seen whoever was in the oak grove a great deal clearer. And I still say it was Dan Mangan, no matter what he says. He’s the only person around Sleepyside who wears a black leather jacket and a funny black cap!”
    “But why is he being so stubborn about admitting it?” Honey asked, puzzled.
    “I think I know!” Trixie’s blue eyes sparkled. “I bet Mr. Maypenny told him not to leave the yard, and he’s been out prowling around in the woods instead. He was afraid that you and I might tell Mr. Maypenny on him if he owned up to it!”
    “You could be right,” Honey agreed, looking relieved. “In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure you are. It’s too bad.”
    “What is?” Trixie was surprised.
    “That Dan thinks we would have tattled. All he would have had to do was to ask us not to say anything about seeing him out there, and we wouldn’t have.”
    Trixie looked uncomfortable. “I guess it’s my fault,” she sighed. “I try to be nice to him 3 but— well, he just sort of rubs me the wrong way, Honey. You know, they say if you rub a cat’s fur die wrong way, it sends out sparks. That’s me, shooting out sparks. And I can’t seem to stop.”
     

The Big Cat • 10
     
    THE TWO GIRLS rode in silence for a few minutes, guiding the horses carefully down the narrow, rocky trail that was still bordered with patches of snow.
    Here and there, where some of the snow had melted, it was slippery going for the horses, and they were well splashed with mud.
    “Boy! Will we have a messy job cleaning up these animals!” Trixie grumbled. “Why does the snow have to melt into nasty old mud? The only person that likes mud is Bobby. I think he likes the taste of it—”
    Trixie broke off suddenly as something in the patch of snow close to her drew her attention. She reined in, and Honey, coming close behind on Starlight, had to stop suddenly to avoid bumping into her. Starlight snorted his disapproval.
    Trixie leaned down from her saddle and studied some marks in the snow. “Look at this. What kind of animal do you suppose left these tracks?”
    Honey tried to look past Starlight’s head, but it was hard to do. “What do they look like? You’re my big brother Jim’s star pupil when it comes to wildlife.”
    “His dumbest, you mean.” Trixie corrected her with a grin. “I’m the one who got all excited about seeing a wolf track a couple of weeks ago, and it turned out to be Reddy’s!” Reddy was the Belden’s wholly untrained but lovable red setter.
    “I remember!” Honey smiled. “We had a lot of fun about it.”
    “These aren’t wolf or Reddy tracks, though. These were made by an animal of the cat family. I see the thick pad marks.” Trixie swung out of her saddle to examine them.
    Honey hesitated a moment and then dismounted. She looped her reins over her wrist as she led Starlight closer and bent to study the tracks.
    Trixie pointed. “See the claw marks there?”
    “Claw marks? Ugh!” Honey stared at the tracks. “Trix, if a cat has feet and claws that big, it’s a lot bigger cat than I want to meet! Let’s get out of here!”
    “Oh, pooh! It’s probably just a wildcat. They aren’t much bigger than Mr. Lytell’s big ol’ tomcat, but they do have bigger feet, I guess.”
    “Wildcat?” Honey glanced around apprehensively, half expecting to see the cat.
    “Jim says there are wildcats up in the highest peales of the Catskills. But they don’t come down this low very often. And there even are catamounts.”
    “Catamounts? You mean those big mountain lions?” Honey’s eyes were pools of alarm. “What are they