The Black Jacket Mystery

doesn’t have any drumsticks, ’n’ I love drumsticks.” He slid down in his chair till only his tip-tilted nose and the scowl showed above the rim of the table.
    But a moment later he suddenly sat up straight, and his frown disappeared as he saw Honey coming in from the kitchen carrying a couple of salad dishes. “Hi, Honey!” he sang out joyfully. “I didn’ know you were here. You’re the susprise!” He looked to his mother eagerly. “C’n Honey sit by me, please?”
    “If she wants to,” his mother agreed, smiling.
    “I’d love it,” Honey assured him as she set down the two salad plates and started out for more.
    Trixie was coming in with a steaming vegetable dish in each hand. “Ha! Don’t forget you’ll be stuck to cut up his meat!” she whispered as they dodged around each other without mishap.
    “I don’t mind. It will be fun.” Honey smiled.
    “Do it twice a day and three times Saturday and Sunday and you won’t think so!” Trixie whispered darkly. Taking care of Bobby was one of her biggest jobs, and she did a lot of grumbling about it, though she didn’t really mind it as much as she pretended.
    She set down the vegetable dishes where Moms could serve from them and started back toward the kitchen.
    “Trix!” Her father sounded vexed. “What do we eat our food from? The tablecloth? Where are the plates?”
    “Coming right up, Dad!” Trixie hurried toward the kitchen door, but as the door swung open, Mart came through, carrying the plates.
    They dodged in first one direction and then the other to avoid another collision. Then Mart, balancing the plates on one hand, firmly shoved her aside. “Step away, slave. We did that routine before. Do you remember?”
    Trixie made a face at him and hurried out as Mart set the plates down with a flourish in front of his father. “Here we are,” he announced, “washed and dried all spick-and-span!”
    “About time!” Mr. Belden started serving the portions.
    It was a lively meal, with a general discussion of the ice carnival plans.
    “I wish you B.W.G.’s wouldn’t be so stubborn about not accepting financial help. I’m sure the bank would be glad to underwrite part of the expense, for the publicity,” Mr. Belden told them.
    “Can’t, Dad. But they can buy a full-page ad in our souvenir program,” Mart said. “We’ll be glad to sell any size space desired.”
    Trixie winked at Honey across the table. Mart was actually volunteering to do one of the hardest jobs connected with the carnival!
    “Mart’s a wonderful salesman,” Trixie assured her father. “The advertising will pay all the expenses. It isn’t as if we were raising money for something. All we want is donations of books for the library at San Isidro, and people to have a good time watching our show and trying to win prizes.”
    “And who donates the prizes?” Mrs. Belden asked. “Brian will take care of that. I’m sure he won’t have any trouble getting the merchants to donate. We’ll mention each one in the program.”
    Brian looked at Mart and Mart looked at Brian.
    “I just felt a trap snapping shut, didn’t you?” Brian asked his brother with a sly wink.
    Mart nodded and pretended to look sad. “Were outmaneuvered, son.”
    “I know what that word means.” Trixie grinned.
    “You ought to,” Mart snapped back at her. “You probably invented it.
    “Hey!” Mart interrupted the laughter that his remark had started. “Were due over at the stables. Regan wants to show us how to bandage Thunderer’s cut leg so we can change the dressing tomorrow and Sunday.”
    Usually Jim did the doctoring with Regan, but he wouldn’t be back from the field trip until Sunday night.
    Mention of Regan’s name was all Trixie needed to get her started puzzling over his visit that afternoon. She simply had to know what it was all about. Maybe Regan would drop some word about it to the boys.
    “Why can’t Honey and I tag along and watch, too? We ought to know what to do in case one of our horses gets a bad cut sometime out in the woods.”
    “I suppose we could stand their company,” Mart said gloomily to Brian.
    “If they don’t take too long with the dishes,” Brian agreed. “Heaven knows, they have lots to learn about caring for horses.”
    Honey sighed. “There’ll be a sinkful. I guess we can’t expect you to wait.” She tried to look pathetic.
    “Well, see you later, squaws!” Mart started out. “Too bad you’re stuck!” He laughed and went