The Black Jacket Mystery

stalked down the hall without even trying to answer.
    “Oh, boy! I’ve got to tell Brian! That really killed him!” Trixie chortled as she went to work on the potatoes.
    Dinner was almost ready and Dad was home from Sleepyside and in his slippers when Honey came up the path carrying her overnight bag.
    Trixie, clearing out a drawer in her dresser for Honey’s things, glanced out of the window and saw her friend coming. She flung up the window to yell a welcome to her, but as she did, and with the words, “I’ll be right down!” still unspoken on her lips, she stared in silent surprise.
    Brian, looking dark and handsome, as usual, and wearing his new cashmere sweater and best trousers, was hurrying down the path to meet Honey.
    Close at his heels, also slicked up and wearing his sharpest ski sweater, went Mart. Even at this distance Trixie could see that he was trying to overtake his longer-legged brother and be the one to help Honey carry her bag.
    Brian won. He took the bag and got a sweet smile as his reward as he and Honey started up the path together.
    But Mart wasn’t left out. He promptly took his place on Honey’s other side, and Trixie giggled as she saw him take over the conversation.
    “Hi, Honey! What’s the verdict?” Trixie couldn’t hold back the yell. She just had to know.
    “Okay!” Honey called up to her. “Anything we want to do is all right with Dad!”
    “Keen!” Trixie answered and closed the window. She watched through the pane a moment longer and saw that the rivalry for Honey’s attention had started again after her interruption. She wore a satisfied smile as she finished clearing the drawer and started downstairs to bring up her guest. “Something tells me we’ve got a couple of willing workers lined up for the carnival!”
    A few minutes later she perched on the edge of the bed and watched Honey put her things away. “Thank goodness tomorrow’s Saturday! Let’s call a conference at the clubhouse in the morning after the boys have helped Regan with the horses. I can hardly wait to start on the carnival.”
    “They may be too busy. Miss Trask says Tom has to drive Regan to the city very early, and that means the boys will have all the responsibility of the stable till they get back Sunday night,” Honey tried to explain.
    Trixie frowned. “I thought Miss Trask never let Regan and the chauffeur have the same day off. She’s usually so fussy about wanting a man on the property, especially when your dad’s away. And Jim’s gone now, too.”
    “It is sort of odd, isn’t it? But she said it was an emergency of some kind.”
    “Did she say what kind?” Trixie asked eagerly. “Personal, was all. I couldn’t get her to say any more. And when I mentioned it to Celia, she was awfully short with me, so I dropped it.” Celia was the upstairs maid and Tom’s new bride.
    “There’s something strange going on,” Trixie confided, feeling a rush of curiosity coming back. She told Honey about hearing Regan’s parting words to her mother today. “He’s certainly worried about something. Tom’s probably mixed up in it, and that’s why Celia was upset.”
    Honey nodded. “Maybe Regan’s planning to lend
    them money to buy the trailer they’re living in.”
    “Ugh! I wish they’d buy a house instead and let Di Lynch’s father take his old trailer back. Every time I think how close Mart and I came to being kidnapped in that trailer— br-rr-r!” Trixie shivered.
    “I don’t blame you, but Tom and Celia love it,” Honey told her. “I’ve heard Tom say he’d buy it if he could ever raise five thousand dollars to do it. Maybe Regan knows where to get it for him.”
    “Five thousand!Regan? Where would he get that much money? Your dad told mine that when Regan started to work for him a few years ago, he was just out of an orphanage. He couldn’t have saved that much.”
    “I guess not, at that. I heard him tell Miss Trask once, a long time ago, that he had to send his sister money to help make ends meet.”
    “Anyhow,” Trixie said with knitted brows, “it wasn’t lending money that Regan was so worried about. It was something that might turn out bad, and he didn’t want us kids to know about it.”
    “Trixie!Honey!” Mrs. Beldens voice from the foot of the stairway sounded annoyed. “Dinner is ready and the table isn’t even set!”
    “Be right down, Moms!” Trixie called out hastily, and, as they hurried downstairs, she assured Honey, We can talk