The Mystery at Saratoga

as I recall, and use it to go to Saratoga to look for Regan.”
    “We don’t have to!” Honey said joyfully, ignoring Dan’s sarcasm. “Remember, Dan? My parents are in Saratoga right now. When they call tomorrow, I’ll ask if we can come up and join them there!”
    “Oh, Honey, that’s wonderful!” Trixie exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend. Then she added, seriously, “But you’d better not tell them our reasons for wanting to come to Saratoga. You know how our parents feel about our trying to solve mysteries on our own. Just tell them we’re getting bored silly in Sleepyside, and we’d like to have a vacation to talk about when the boys get home ready to lord it over us with stories about their adventures at camp.”
    Honey giggled. “That certainly is the truth, Trixie—even if it’s not the whole truth. Oh, I can hardly wait to find Regan!”
    “Then let’s get home before dark, or our parents will ground us and we won’t even be able to go to the mailbox, let alone to Saratoga!” Trixie said. She jumped up from the step and ran toward the bike rack. Honey followed eagerly, but Dan, still unconvinced that Trixie’s plan was a workable one, walked slowly and thoughtfully behind.

“The Trip Is On!” ● 5

    ALTHOUGH TRIXIE went to bed almost as soon as she got home, the day’s excitement had left her wideawake. She tossed and turned for hours, wishing she’d checked a book out of the library to read until she felt sleepy. That thought reminded her again of the chair-tipping incident, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as she pictured herself sprawled across the floor. “I’m glad Mart wasn’t there to see me make a fool of myself,” she murmured into the darkness. “He’d never let me forget it.”
    Then, not wanting to speak the words out loud, even in the privacy of her room, she thought, Fm glad Jim wasn't there, either. All of the Bob-Whites knew about the special friendship that existed between Jim and Trixie, and it, too, was a cause for teasing from Mart Belden. Trixie firmly denied to the other Bob-Whites, and usually to herself, as well, that Jim was a “boyfriend.” Still, she had to admit that, at times, his opinion of her was more important than that of anyone outside her family.
    “Except Honey’s,” she murmured. “But that’s different. Honey and I are so close, and she’s such a loyal person, anyway, that I don’t worry about losing her friendship—even when I ought to worry,” she added wryly, remembering the time when she and Honey had stopped speaking because of Trixie’s suspicions of Honey’s cousin Ben Ryker.
    Groaning, Trixie rolled over on her side and pulled the pillow over her head, as if to silence her own thoughts. I’ll never get to sleep if I just let myself keep jumping from one memory to another, she thought.
    She rolled onto her back and, putting the pillow under her head, began a relaxing exercise she’d read about. Starting with her toes and working upward, she tensed and then relaxed her muscles, concentrating on the muscles and keeping her mind a blank. Finally, she drifted off to sleep.

    Trixie woke with a start, sat bolt upright in her bed, and gasped for breath. She looked around the room, only gradually coming out of the nightmare she’d just been dreaming and returning to the real world, where everything was familiar, even the bright patch of morning sunlight on the foot of her bed.
    She closed her eyes and sank back on her pillow, remembering the dream. She’d been walking through a crowd of people when she’d spotted Regan’s red head in the distance. She’d called his name, but he hadn’t seemed to hear her. Struggling through the crowd, she’d come to a road and spotted Regan walking away from her. She’d begun to run, harder and faster than she ever had in her life, but she couldn’t seem to catch up to him.
    Finally, in a burst of speed, she had caught up to him. She had thrown her arms around him and said, “Oh, Regan, I’m so glad I found you!” But just then, a man had appeared from nowhere. He’d been wearing a dark suit, with a badge on the lapel that said “Track Official.”
    “You’re disqualified!” he’d shouted, and while Trixie had tried to understand what he meant, Regan had disappeared.
    “And I woke up,” Trixie murmured. “What a wonderful way to start the morning.” Sighing, she got out of bed.
    By the time Trixie started her morning chores, she was already waiting