The Mystery at Saratoga

back stairs of the hotel and out onto the street. Even in the middle of town, the stillness of the August night seemed mysterious and frightening. Trixie took a deep breath to calm her suddenly jittery stomach. A block from the hotel, she flagged down a cab. She and Honey climbed into the backseat, and Trixie said, “To the racetrack, please.”
    The two girls waited fearfully for the driver to ask the reason for their strange destination, but he simply turned down the flag on the meter and moved off into the dark night. That's one hurdle out of the way , Trixie thought. How many do we have left to go?
    At the track, the girls paid the driver, then looked around for a way to enter the track. They had to walk completely around the fenced-in enclosure before they found a place where they could scale the fence.
    Once inside the track area, the girls stood still for a moment, unsure which way to go to find Gadbox’s stall. Finally, Honey tapped Trixie’s shoulder and pointed to the left, her eyebrows raised as a signal that she was still not entirely sure of her directions. Trixie shrugged and nodded her agreement that that was as good a place to start as any, and the two moved silently across the deserted enclosure.
    The girls had gone some distance before their surroundings began to look familiar. Trixie tapped Honey’s arm and pointed to the right. The Worthington stalls were right around the corner of the barn they were walking past—she thought.
    Rounding the corner, Trixie spotted the Worthington stalls, exactly where she’d thought they’d be. Home free, she thought—just as a shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness, clapped a hand across each girl’s mouth, and dragged them, stumbling, into an empty stall.
    Trixie and Honey both fell backward into a mound of fresh, clean straw. Looking up, Trixie saw a man’s form towering above her, hands on hips. The moonlight that streamed in through the open doorway outlined his figure and glinted on his bright red hair.
    Regan! Trixie thought, her heart pounding so hard that she thought her ribs would be shattered by the pressure. Oh, no, Regan! We were so sure you were innocent!
    Regan knelt in the straw in front of the girls, his face a stony mask. Trixie felt herself cringing away from him. At the sight of her terror, Regan’s expression changed to one of sympathy. “Hey, Trix,” he whispered, “don’t be frightened. I’m sorry I grabbed you out there. I didn’t recognize you in the dark. I guess I don’t have to ask what you two are doing here. You heard about the claiming race and came out to try to catch someone drugging Gadbox, right?”
    Wordlessly, Trixie and Honey nodded.
    “Me, too,” Regan said. Then he sighed. “I thought I’d caught my culprits, too—and who do I find but the girl detectives from Sleepyside!”
    Of course! Trixie thought, tears of relief welling in her eyes. Regan isn't here to drug Gadbox-, he's here to catch someone else doing it , just as Honey and I are!
    “Oh, Regan, I’m so glad!” Honey whispered in the darkness.
    “Well, I’m not,” Regan said. “This isn’t a safe place for you girls to be tonight. I’d send you home, but I’m afraid you’d come right back, anyhow. So you two might as well stay—but keep close to me, do you hear?”
    Again the girls nodded, scrambling to their feet.
    Putting a finger to his lips to remind them of the need for silence, Regan turned and left the stall. Trixie and Honey followed close behind him, their own breathing sounding thunderous in their ears.
    As they neared the stall where Gadbox was kept, the three heard voices. Exchanging startled looks, they flattened themselves against the wall of an adjoining barn and held their breaths as they listened.
    “I give up,” a gruff-voiced man was saying. “We’ve searched every inch of this stall, and we haven’t found the feed pouch. Since that other race, Stinson probably sleeps with the feed bag under his pillow the night before a big race.” The gruffvoiced man laughed stupidly.
    “Keep your voice down!” a second man hissed. “And keep looking! We stand to make a bundle on tomorrow’s race. All we have to do is find that feed pouch. It’s too bad there isn’t some dumb kid around to take the rap for us this time.”
    Trixie felt Regan’s body go rigid with anger. She reached out a hand to him, but she was too late. Regan had charged forward. “You’ll take the rap for this one yourselves!” he