The Gatehouse Mystery

path that led down to the hollow. The sight of the lovely little black mare drove all other thoughts from her mind.
    "Oh, Susie," she cried, throwing her arms around the horse's glossy neck. "You lovely, beautiful, gorgeous thing! Please, Jim, may I ride her right this minute?"
    "No bareback riding on rented horses," a voice said from the stable. Regan joined them, grinning.
    "Oh, Regan," Trixie said. "I'm so glad you're back.
    I want you to meet my brother, Brian."
    Brian leaned down from the saddle to shake hands with the pleasant-faced groom. "It's great to meet you."
    "The pleasure is mine," Regan said with a friendly smile. "Is Mart the blond boy with the crew cut who's down at the boathouse with Honey?"
    "That's right," Trixie said.
    "Except for the difference in height," Regan said, "you look enough alike to be twins. But you and Brian don't look at all alike. You take after your father, don't you, fella?" he asked Brian.
    Brian nodded. "I'm supposed to."
    "It's hard to believe," Trixie teased. "Dad's a very good-looking man."
    "And your mother is a very pretty lady," Regan said. "It kills me to admit it, Trixie, but you look enough like her to be her own daughter." His green eyes twinkled. "If you ever become a lady, which I very much doubt, people might even call you pretty."
    "I have no intention of becoming a lady," Trixie said impudently. "Ladies sit around sewing—" She stopped, remembering where the diamond was.
    "You couldn't sit still long enough to thread a needle," Regan was saying in his cheerful voice. "Someday you're going to have to acquire patience. All you kids should learn to drive cars while you're in high school. Hear Dick's going to give you a lesson tomorrow. Right?" he asked Jim.
    'That's right," Jim said. "If he gets back."
    "And why shouldn't he be back tonight?" Regan demanded, his freckled hands on his hips. "What's a black eye? I've had many a shiner in my time and never took up a busy doctor's time with it."
    Mart and Honey joined the little group in front of the stable then. After Mart had been introduced to Regan, he said, "Do I smell fried chicken, or is it wishful thinking?"
    Honey sniffed. A delicious odor was wafting out from the kitchen. "You smell correctly," she told Mart. "Dinner must be almost ready. Come on, we'd better change into dry clothes."
    Regan's sandy eyebrows shot up with surprise. "Dinner at this unfashionable hour, Honey?" he asked. "Since when? It's only six thirty."
    "Just for tonight," Honey explained. "We want to go for a ride through the woods at eight, if it's all right with you, Regan."
    "It's fine with me," he said, "if you all groom your horses when you come back. I've got to drive Celia and the cook into the village, if Dick doesn't show up, and drive them back again. They're going to the movie at the Cameo. Thought you kids might be planning to take it in, too."
    "We're going tomorrow night," Honey told him. "The radio said it's going to rain, so we thought we'd better ride while we can."
    "The horses need exercise, all right," Regan said. "What's the matter with you kids? You used to live in the saddle."
    "It's been so hot," Honey explained quickly. "But now that Brian and Mart are home, we'll be sure to ride the horses enough. We'll take turns after Susie goes back to Mr. Tomlin."
    "I have a feeling Susie is here to stay," Regan said mysteriously.
    "Oh, Regan," Trixie cried excitedly. "What makes you think so?"
    He hummed softly to himself and strode into the tack room. Trixie raced after him. "Don't be that way, Regan," she begged. "Is there really any chance that the Wheelers are going to keep five horses after this?" He hummed a few more bars of the tune, then said, "If you can keep secrets from me, Trixie Belden, I guess I can keep one little secret from you."
    Trixie's cheeks flamed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled unhappily.
    Regan hummed while Jim and Brian put the three horses in their stalls. When they left the stable, he said in a low voice to Trixie, "No secrets, huh? Miss Trask was telling me about your nightmare, and she also told about Honey and Jim switching rooms." He hummed another bar. "Since when did the early morning sun bother Honey, and since when did you have bad dreams?"
    Trixie tossed her head. "All right," she said. "Since when did Jupe go around kicking chauffeurs in the face? If you swallowed that one, I should—"
    "Now I don't know what you're talking about," he interrupted with a chuckle. "Is