The Mystery of the Galloping Ghost

just enough breeze to waft
fresh, sweet smells Trixie’s way.
    Lost
in her enjoyment of the scene, Trixie wasn’t sure when she first became aware
of the drone of machinery. It was growing quite loud by the time Pat urged his
horse into a canter. Matching his pace, Trixie caught a glimpse of a large sign
on the same side of the road as the Murrows ’ ranch.
The sign said Burke
Landing. Behind the sign, the land was bare and brown, with stacks of
huge felled trees piled around. Out of the stripped land rose a large frame
structure on which construction crews were busily working. Earth movers were
already digging the foundations for more buildings. At the edge of the clearing
was a construction trailer with a sign nailed to its side that said Reserve now. Open
daily 9-4.
    Just
beyond Burke Landing ran a gravel road. Pat led the girls along it, and soon
they came to a lake edged by a dirt path. They circled the lake, alternately
trotting and cantering. Mur- Hadj was a joy to ride,
Trixie discovered. The mare responded effortlessly to every command. Her small
size let Trixie feel at one with her, instead of overwhelmed as she sometimes
felt on bigger horses.
    Pat
Murrow never turned around to look at the girls, but sometimes he turned his
head to the side, as if to check their progress by the sound of the horses’
hooves.
    On
one straight, level stretch of ground, he kicked his horse into a full gallop.
Honey, riding right behind him, hesitated for a second before following his
lead. Trixie didn’t hesitate at all before signaling Mur- Hadj to follow— and she doubted if the fiery
little mare would have stood for being left behind, anyway.
    Trixie
felt the wind whistling past her face. She gathered the reins more firmly in
her hands and gripped the saddle with her knees. It was a wonderful,
exhilarating feeling, and it ended too soon. As the path headed downhill, Pat
reined Al- Adeen into a more manageable canter, then
down to a trot, and finally into a walk. After another few yards, he pulled his
horse off the path altogether and Trixie saw that they had come to a picnic
area.
    Pat
took the bag and the Thermos out of his saddlebag, walked to a picnic table,
and began to set out the food. Trixie felt another flare of resentment at not
being consulted about the rest stop. But the stiffness of her muscles as she
dismounted convinced her it was a good idea.
    Honey
seemed eager for the chance to sit and talk with Pat. She helped him pour the
lemonade into the paper cups his mother had provided, then sat down across from
him and gave him her most winning smile. “This is a beautiful place. Do you
come here often?” she asked.
    Pat
nodded while drinking his lemonade.
    “I
was surprised that we didn’t ride along the river,” Honey said.
    “No
place to go,” Pat told her. “There’s a forest on one side that’s full of
deerflies this time of year. They’d drive the horses crazy. The other side of
our ranch is—is private land.” He picked up an apple and began polishing it
against his shirt sleeve.
    “It
looked like a construction site,” said Honey. “What’s being built there?”
    “A
darned nuisance,” Pat Murrow said curtly.
    “Wait
a minute!” Trixie exclaimed. “Wasn’t Burke the man your father talked to
yesterday?”
    Pat
Murrow fixed her with such an angry look that Trixie felt her pulse quicken.
“Sorry,” she said, “just asking.”
    Pat
softened his gaze. “It wasn’t your question,” he admitted. “It’s just that
Burke and his little project aren’t big favorites of
mine.”
    “The
project must be Burke Landing,” Honey guessed. “What is it?”
    Pat
grimaced. “It’s what they call a time-share resort complex,” he said. “City
folks pay big money for the chance to spend two weeks every year out here with
Mother Nature. Only they do it in an apartment with all the modern
conveniences. The apartments are all stacked up in a bunch of big, ugly
buildings.”
    “Yuck!”
Trixie said.
    Pat
looked at her and, for the first time, showed a glimmer of a smile. “I couldn’t
have put it better myself,” he said.
    “I
can understand why you wouldn’t want something like that right next door,”
Honey said. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”
    “Sure,”
Pat told her. “Burke himself has given us the perfect solution. We just sell
out to him and go someplace where it’s peaceful.”
    “That’s
what he wanted your father to think about,” Trixie surmised,