The Mystery at Saratoga

pulled book after book off the shelves. They tried to concentrate only on the task at hand, but the three horse-loving teenagers were continually distracted by interesting bits of information, which they shared with one another.
    “Did you know that Thoroughbreds have existed as a breed for over two hundred and forty years?” Honey asked.
    “I didn’t know that,” Trixie admitted. “I did know that Thoroughbreds are a breed of horses, though, which is more than some people do. Why, just the other day, I read an article in which someone mentioned a ‘Thoroughbred Arabian.’ What the writer meant was ‘purebred Arabian.’ ”
    “Listen to this!” Dan exclaimed. “When a horse is racing, his stride is twenty-six feet long!”
    Trixie whistled softly, while Honey, conscious of the Sleepyside librarian’s love of silence, rounded her lips in a silent “Oh!”
    “And,” Dan continued, “with every stride, the horse’s entire weight of up to twelve hundred pounds is put on one ankle that’s only five inches in diameter. That’s narrower than some human beings’ ankles!”
    “It’s amazing that the legs don’t just snap,” Honey said.
    “Sometimes they do,” Trixie responded sadly, looking up from a passage she was reading. “I was just reading about Ruffian, the filly who had to be destroyed after she broke her leg during a match race.”
    “Here’s a picture of Native Dancer, who won twenty-one of his twenty-two major races, and only lost the Kentucky Derby when another horse bumped against him. Isn’t he beautiful?” Honey held the picture up for the others to see.
    “He is beautiful,” Trixie said, “but he’s not the clue to Regan’s disappearance. I’m beginning to doubt that we’ll find what we’re looking for.”
    “Well, let’s keep looking, anyway,” Honey said. “There are lots of books left. I had no idea that there were so many books on horses at the Sleepyside library!”
    “There are a lot of people in the area who own and raise horses, Honey—as you should know, since your own father is one of them,” Dan pointed out.
    “And there are probably just as many people who would love to be able to own and raise horses but can’t afford to—as I should know, since I used to be one of them. Of course,” Trixie added grandly, “that was before your dear father kindly bought the Manor House and provided me with more fine horses to keep exercised than I can possibly find time for.”
    Honey began to giggle uncontrollably at Trixie’s impression of a haughty society matron, incongruous as it was coming from a freckle-faced teen-ager in a T-shirt and faded blue jeans.
    Trixie began to giggle, too, and the librarian began to give the girls disapproving looks as Dan tried his best to shush them without making any more noise—and without breaking out into laughter himself.
    At last Trixie and Honey brought their giggling under control. But Trixie was still struggling to keep another peal of laughter from breaking through as she reached to the shelf and took down a book called Off the Track.
    Sounds more like a book about railroad accidents, she thought, until she saw the subtitle: Behind the Scenes in the World of Professional Horse Racing.
    Turning to the index, Trixie ran her finger down the page. She felt her stomach tighten as the name “Worthington” jumped off the page at her.
    “This is it,” she told the others in an excited whisper. “There are two pages in this book about Mr. Worthington!”
    She led the way to a table, sat down, and opened the book to the page listed in the index.
    Trixie felt goose bumps rise on her arms when she saw the chapter heading at the top of the page. “Sport of Kings—and Rogues,” it said. Afraid to read what was said about Mr. Worthington, she turned to the first page of the chapter and read through it rapidly.
    “What’s it about, Trix?” Dan asked impatiently.
    “It—it’s about racetrack scandals,” Trixie said. “This author says that racing has always been the most affected by scandals of any major sport, mainly because betting is the backbone of racing. From what this writer says, there must be almost as many ways to cheat at horse racing as there are horses.”
    “What does the writer have to say about Mr. Worthington?” Honey asked. “I hope he’s not a criminal or something.”
    To Dan and Honey’s surprise, the usually daring Trixie slammed the book shut. Her freckles stood out on her face, which was