The Mystery at Saratoga

can’t begin to figure it out, either, Honey. But it doesn’t look good. It’s hard to imagine Regan pawning those boots at all, but if he didn’t bring them in and get the money for them....” Trixie let the sentence trail off, unwilling to voice the conclusion.
    “Y-You mean you think somebody stole the boots from Regan, don’t you, Trixie? And maybe hurt him while he was doing it.”
    Trixie shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what I think, Honey,” she admitted. “The pawnshop owner did say that the man who brought the boots in was bigger than the man they were made for. So if he decided to take the boots by force, Regan might not have been able to stop him.”
    “But the pawnbroker also said that he felt sorry for the man who brought the boots in, even though he’s been in the business for so long that he’s usually hardhearted. You know how softhearted Regan is, even though he always tries to pretend that he’s not. Maybe he felt sorry for the big man, too, and gave him the boots.”
    “That’s possible,” Trixie agreed. “Especially since Regan might not want the boots himself, right now. I mean, if he’s here trying to clear himself, he might not want people to know who he is. Those boots would be sure to attract attention, because they look so expensive, and they’re monogrammed, besides. Oh, Honey, I hope that’s it.”
    “Me, too,” Honey said. “Anyway, that’s what I’m going to believe. We have no way of knowing, yet, what really happened, so if the choice is between believing that Regan gave away his boots to someone who needed the money and believing that a crook saw the boots, thought he could get some money for them, and stole them, maybe hitting Regan over the head to get them—well, I’m just going to hope for the best, that’s all.” Honey nodded her head once in a “so there” gesture and looked at Trixie almost defiantly, as if she were daring her friend to contradict her.
    Trixie smiled ruefully. “I’m certainly not going to argue, Honey,” she said. “I want Regan to be safe as much as you do. Now, let’s get back to the hotel before your parents start to worry.”
    “Do you think we should tell them about finding the boots?” Honey asked.
    Trixie considered the question for a few minutes as they walked, then shook her head. “I don’t think so, Honey. I still think that if Regan had thought your parents could help him with whatever his problem was, he would have asked for help instead of leaving the Manor House. I think he’d want us to keep this to ourselves, at least for now.”
    Honey nodded her agreement, although the look on her face said that she was uncomfortable about withholding the information from her parents.
    The girls walked quickly out of the shabby district of Saratoga and back into the cheerful, immaculate heart of the town, both lost in thought.
    Suddenly, Trixie stood still and slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Gleeps!” she shouted. “How dumb can two would-be detectives get!”
    “What is it, Trixie?” Honey asked. “What did you think of?”
    Trixie grabbed Honey by the shoulders and looked at her triumphantly. “Honey, don’t you see? We both agreed back there that we’d try to look at the bright side of things, but we forgot the brightest side of all!” Honey stared at Trixie in bewilderment, unable to follow her best friend’s train of thought.
    “Don’t you see?” Trixie repeated impatiently. “Up until a few minutes ago, when we saw those boots, we didn’t really know if we were on the right track in coming to Saratoga to find Regan. Those boots prove for a fact that Regan is here—or was. And tomorrow we can really begin to look for him!”

“That Redheaded Sneak” • 9

    BACK AT THE HOTEL, Honey and Trixie found a note waiting for them at the hotel desk. The note said that the Wheelers were in their room resting before dinner and that the girls should join them in the hotel dining room at seven o’clock.
    “Oh, woe,” Trixie sighed. “You know that I wasn’t exactly overenthusiastic about going out for a fancy dinner before. And now that I know we can really start looking for Regan tomorrow morning when we go to the track, all I want to do is go to the room, pull the covers over my head, and stay there until morning.”
    “Not me,” Honey disagreed. “Your way, it would take ages for morning to arrive.” She giggled. “Not to mention the fact that we’d be suffocated from