The Mystery at Saratoga

was too young.”
    “I’ll tell you what,” Celia Delanoy said. “I have to go into Sleepyside to do the marketing tomorrow. I’ll call your mother and ask if Bobby can ride along when Tom drives me into town. That way he’ll feel as though he’d had a small adventure of his own this week, anyway.”
    “Oh, that’d be wonderful,” Trixie said. “I know he’ll appreciate it.”
    “Dan told me he’d try to take Bobby out to see Mr. Maypenny this week, too,” Honey said. “But I’m afraid he’s going to be a lonely little boy, with all of the Bob-Whites gone, and Regan, too.”
    “Then there’s been no more word from Regan?” Celia asked.
    Honey shook her head. “None so far, I’m afraid.” Trixie cast a worried look at her friend, wondering briefly whether Honey would forget herself and tell the Delanoys the real reason for their trip to Saratoga. Seeing Trixie’s look, Honey shook her head, almost imperceptibly, to reassure her that the secret was safe.
    Everyone was silent for a few moments. Tom watched the road ahead, and Celia and the two girls stared at the scenery, each lost in her own thoughts.
    Trixie suddenly became aware that Honey was speaking to her. “I’m sorry, Honey. What did you say? I was a million miles away.”
    Honey giggled. “Not that far, I bet. You were more like a hundred miles away, in Saratoga. I asked whether you’d had any trouble deciding what to pack.”
    Trixie groaned. “Boy, did I ever!” she said. “I remembered what we’d talked about: comfortable, casual clothes for the track, one or two nice outfits in case your parents take us out for dinner, a swimsuit if we want to swim in the hotel pool. Then I looked through my closet and my dresser drawers and couldn’t find anything that fit that list except the swimsuit. What I call ‘comfortable’ isn’t just casual, it’s downright ragged. And my nice outfits all have torn seams or missing buttons that I always forget about until those rare occasions when I need to wear them. Finally, I just closed my eyes and grabbed some things and threw them in my suitcase and closed it.” Seeing Honey’s horrified look, Trixie giggled and added, “I didn’t really do that, Honey. But I know that even if I’d gone out and bought all new clothes for the trip, I wouldn’t look as nice as you always do.”
    “Now, now,” Tom Delanoy said from the front seat. “You’re a very nice-looking young lady, Miss Trixie Belden. And I’m an expert on pretty ladies. After all, I married one.”
    Celia blushed and smiled, and Trixie laughed. “I have no choice but to accept that compliment gracefully,” she said, “since I can’t tell you you’re wrong, at least not about the woman you married.”
    “Well, I thank you both,” Celia said. “I wouldn’t worry about your clothing if I were you, Trixie. For one thing, I don’t think you realize how much more grown-up-looking you’re becoming. For another thing, you’re going to Saratoga to see things, not to be seen parading in pretty clothing.”
    “Absolutely!” Trixie agreed. “Oh, and I just can’t wait. Do you know, even though I’ve loved horses for as long as I can remember and have ridden almost every day since I’ve known Honey, I’ve never seen an honest-to-goodness horse race?”
    “You’ll love it, Trix,” Honey told her. “Our horses are beautiful, of course, and I adore them, but a racing Thoroughbred in top condition is perfectly perfect. It isn’t just the horses, either, that make Saratoga so much fun. There’s so much excitement at the race track. There’s a big, lighted board that shows the odds on the horses that are racing, and the numbers are constantly changing as people place bets. And the people! Daddy says a race track has more genuine characters per square foot than anyplace else in the world, and he’s absolutely right. Some of them are exactly what you’d imagine, with loud suits and flashy diamond rings. Others you’d expect to see anywhere but at the races—quiet little old ladies, sophisticated older men, and some people who look so ragged you wouldn’t expect them to have two dollars to place a bet with. Oh, I can’t begin to describe it, Trixie. You’ll just have to see it for yourself!”
    “I think you describe it very well, Honey,” Trixie told her. “I get shivers just listening to you, in fact! I do want to see it myself, though. I want to see all those strange people!” To herself, Trixie added,