The Black Jacket Mystery

out and Brian followed.
    “I guess that’s that.” Trixie sighed as she and Honey gathered up the dishes after Mr. and Mrs. Belden had gone into the living room to listen to the weather reports.
    But, a few minutes later, the kitchen door to the hallway opened, and Brian and Mart, bundled up for outdoors, came in.
    “Not done yet?” Mart said. “I told you they were slow as molasses!” he told his brother. “Let’s go.”
    But Brian whipped a couple of dish towels off the rack and handed one to him. “We’ll give them a hand.”
    “Hey! What is this? A frame-up?” Mart pretended to be annoyed.
    “I think it’s darling of you both to help.” Honey smiled at them both impartially as she handed them each a plate from the drying rack.
    “Okay, we’ve been outfoxed,” Mart groaned and went to work.
    “About the carnival,” Brian said over the clatter of silver and dishes. “Are you thinking of a snowman theme, or what? We’ll have to make up our minds about the theme before we do anything else.”
    “I’ve got it!” In her excitement Trixie splashed a platter into the soapy water so hard that suds flew all over. “Mexican! Because it’s for the benefit of our Mexican pen pals! And we can wear the Western costumes we got for Tucson! And Jim can sketch some Spanish señoritas on the posters for us to color in…”
    They talked about it on the way to the Manor House as they plodded along in the starlit night. They each had a flashlight, and they kept pretty well together at first, but Trixie was so anxious to begin talking to Regan that she soon drifted ahead of the others and kept on going when Brian stopped to mend a broken lace on his boot.
    She was quite a way ahead of them as she approached the big stables. There was no light in the barn, but the tack-room window showed yellow through the darkness. Regan must be busy there. She headed toward the fight.
    She heard Regan’s big voice as she stepped into the barn. “I know you’ll do the best you can, but it’s a tricky business, and I can’t expect miracles. I never thought anything like this could happen.”
    A man’s voice, low-pitched and indistinct, answered. Trixie couldn’t make out the words, and the voice didn’t sound familiar.
    Then Regan spoke again. “Tom and I will get back as early as we can Sunday afternoon, and we’ll meet at your place. That is, if we have any luck.” Again she heard the murmur of the second man’s voice. Regan had referred to Tom, so this wasn’t Tom. Who could it be, then? And what kind of “luck” was Regan hoping for?
    She decided not to wait for the others. She could hear their voices and laughter outside. She started across the barn toward the partly open tack-room door. The boards in the old floor squeaked loudly, but she was so used to them that she paid little attention.
    As she shoved open the door, the rear half-door to the stalls was swinging as if someone had just gone out.
    “Hi!” she greeted Regan. He was reaching up to turn a knob on the small radio that he kept on the shelf above the harness pegs. He liked to listen to the various sports contests as he worked. He turned up the volume of a musical program before he glanced at her.
    “Oh, hello, Trixie. Where are the boys?”
    “Coming,” she said shortly. “Who was that?” She nodded toward the rear half-door.
    “Who was what?” Regans green eyes looked blank.
    “I heard you talking to somebody a minute ago.” She was a little surprised. “A man.”
    “You must have heard me fooling with the radio,” Regan said carelessly.
    “No.” Trixie shook her head. “You were talking, and I heard this man answering, sort of mumbling.
    I was just wondering who he was.”
    “You have a great imagination, young lady.” Regan laughed. But his voice sounded sharp a moment later as he added, “Don’t let it run away with you. You heard the radio.”
    Trixie knew that Regan was fibbing deliberately. He just didn’t want her to know who was there with him. But why? She felt angry and hurt. Regan had always been so friendly, even when she was dumb about things he tried to show her about riding.
    The boys and Honey came in before she could argue any more.
    And Regan ignored her pointedly as he led the way to Thunderer’s stall and gave the boys a lesson in bandaging. Even Honey noticed how Regan was snubbing Trixie.
    “What are you and Regan glaring at each other for?” Honey whispered as Regan demonstrated the way to wrap