The Mystery at Saratoga

exciting when you manage to see through the charade and clock a horse that you realize is going to be a sure thing in his race that afternoon.”
    Trixie grinned up at Mr. Worthington. “If you’re apologizing for not providing more excitement, please don’t bother. I think my heart missed about three beats when that horse broke into a gallop.”
    “The two men who know all the games that go on at the track are sitting on the fence over there,” Mr. Worthington said, pointing to two men Trixie hadn’t noticed before. “They’re the timers for the racing sheets. You’ll notice that each of them is holding two stopwatches and a thick book. The book is full of Thoroughbred registration forms, because we owners are so secretive that we’ll even try to keep a new horse’s identity a secret during his first workout. Those two men are such experts at playing our games that they can time two horses running two different stretches of track while discussing the possible identity of a strange horse— all at the same time!”
    Trixie and Honey found this new piece of information impossible to believe, but after what they’d just seen, they were afraid not to believe Mr. Worthington. They moved closer to the two timers, and they were soon spellbound by the rapid chatter that they heard between the two men.
    “That chestnut gelding over there is new. Got a line on him? Could be the new South American horse that’s running out of Carleton Farms now. I got one-forty-eight for the half on that bay over there. Could be holding back or just good to run out of the money.”
    “Rumor is his shoulder’s gone bad. Could be real time or just a little joke on us so he can open up this afternoon and take the money. The chestnut can’t be the new Carleton horse. The book shows a blaze on the forehead of that one. Better ask around after the workout.”
    “I can hardly understand a thing they’re talking about, Honey. Can you?” Trixie asked.
    Honey shook her head. “They seem to understand each other, though, Trixie. .And here I thought you and I were the only two people in the world who could talk gibberish and still understand each other perfectly!”
    Laughing, the two girls turned their attention back to the timers and listened and watched until the crowd began to thin and the workout ended.
    “That was super!” Trixie said when she and Honey rejoined Mr. Worthington and Mr. Wheeler. “Thank you so much for inviting us here!”
    “That look of excitement on your face is all the thanks I need,” Mr. Worthington replied. “I’ve devoted a lot of my time and money to racing. It’s good to see someone else catching the spirit that I feel. If you want to reward me, though, there is something you can do.”
    “Anything!” the girls chorused.
    “Well, then, come back to the stables with me and let me show off my horses,” Mr. Worthington said, his eyes twinkling.
    “It does seem like the least we can do for Mr. Worthington, doesn’t it, Honey?” Trixie said, falling in with the joke.
    “Oh, certainly,” Honey said. “I didn’t really want to visit the stables and see all those beautiful Thoroughbreds up close and learn more about racing, but I wouldn’t want to be impolite.”
    With exaggerated dignity, the two girls linked arms and followed the adults to the stables. Once they were around the horses, however, their pose dissolved, and they found themselves oohing and aahing at the beautiful animals that were being groomed and curried in preparation for the afternoon’s racing.
    In one stall, a small, weathered man was working over a sleek, glistening horse.
    “Carl,” Mr. Worthington said to the man, “we have guests. Trixie Belden and Honey Wheeler, meet my trainer, Carl Stinson. Carl has been with Worthington Farms for over twenty years.”
    Trixie and Honey exchanged an electrified glance as they realized that this was the man that Regan had worked for.
    “How d’you do?” Carl Stinson asked curtly, returning his attention to the horse.
    “Do you mind if we watch you for a while?” Honey asked.
    “Nope,” the trainer replied, not bothering to look up.
    “That’s a good idea,” Mr. Worthington said. “I have some business to discuss with Mr. Wheeler, and I’m sure you girls will be more interested in learning about Carl’s horse sense than about our dollars and cents. We’ll meet you back here in a few minutes.”
    “That sounds great, Mr. Worthington,” Trixie said, “if Mr.