The Mystery at Saratoga

trailer?” Trixie guessed.
    “That’s right,” Brian told her. “One of the track employees had seen a pickup truck with a horse trailer going north out of town late last night. As long as we were following flimsy leads, we decided to head north to see if we could find any trace of those vehicles—or of you and Honey.”
    “That’s when Johnny suggested that we check out that deserted farm,” Jim added.
    “Why that farm?” Trixie asked. “There must be dozens of deserted places around Saratoga.”
    “That used to be my farm,” Johnny said softly. Seeing their surprised looks, he explained, “It was my father’s, really. He raised horses there. Then he got real sick, and when he died, I had to sell the farm to pay the doctor’s bills. The bank bought it, but they don’t use it. It just sits there, all empty. Someday I want to buy it back. I think about that a lot. I—I guess that’s why I thought about it when the boys asked me.”
    “It’s lucky for us you did,” Regan told his friend. “It’s been a lucky day for us all around,” Trixie said as the station wagon pulled up in front of the hotel. “I just hope our luck holds a little longer— until we contact Mr. Stinson, and until the track officials catch Scarface and his friend Louie.”
    Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler were both pacing the hotel lobby when the Bob-Whites, with Regan and Johnny, walked in. Mrs. Wheeler burst into tears and threw her arms around her daughter. Mr. Wheeler, blinking back tears of his own, forced himself to look angry. “I have a few things to say to you two,” he said.
    “Please, Mr. Wheeler, you’ll have to wait,” Trixie said, amazed at her own audacity. “I don’t blame you for being angry, and as soon as this is all over, you can yell at us, or spank us, or make us stay in our rooms for a year. But right now, we have to save Gadbox.”
    Mr. Wheeler was too shocked to speak. He just stared in amazement as Jim Frayne reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. “We’ll use the pay phones here in the lobby,” he said, handing coins to the other Bob-Whites. “Brian, you call your parents, collect, and tell them that Trixie’s all right. Trix, call Mr. Stinson and stop him from feeding Gadbox. Mart, call the track officials and tell them about Scarface and Louie. And please, try to limit your vocabulary to words that mere grown-ups can understand. Honey, you and Regan and I will stay here and try to explain this mixed-up mess to our parents.”
    A few minutes later, Trixie returned to the couches in the lobby, where the Wheelers were sitting with Regan, Jim, Honey, and Johnny. “I got through to Mr. Stinson,” she crowed. “He hadn’t fed Gadbox yet, and he’s not going to—I mean, he’s not going to feed him the drugged feed in the feed bag. It took me a little while to convince him that I knew what I was talking about, but finally he believed me.”
    “I’m not sure that I believe any of this,” Mr. Wheeler said. “I’m beginning to understand how the sequence of events fits together, but I still don’t understand how you girls managed to be hot on the trail of a mystery, right under my nose, without my being aware of it.”
    “We’ll explain all that later,” Trixie assured him. “You certainly will,” Brian said as he walked up behind her. “I just finished talking to Dad and Moms, and although they’re relieved to find out that your sandy head is still on your shoulders, I’d say you’ll have a lot of explaining to do when you get back to Sleepyside.”
    “Oh, woe,” Trixie groaned. “Even after I finish explaining things, they’ll probably make sure that I don’t leave my room until school starts in September.”
    Trixie’s worries about her fate were interrupted by Mart, who returned from talking to the track officials. “I told them the whole story in words of one syllable,” he said. “They thought it was a crank call, but right in the middle of the conversation, Carl Stinson walked into their office with the feed bag and asked them to have it tested for drugs. That got their attention, all right.” He chuckled. “Anyway, they want Honey and Trixie to talk to the police.”
    “Don’t tell me we have to go to the police station right now!” Trixie protested. “I want to do everything I can to make sure that Scarface and Louie are put behind bars, where they belong. But if I don’t get something to eat, I’ll faint dead away.”
    Mart nodded.