The Mystery of the Headless Horseman

later, perhaps, if you feel you want to hold another sale—” She hurried away.
    Trixie thought of the neat little cottage that used to be the Wheelers’ old gatehouse. The Bob-Whites had fixed it up, and now it served as their clubhouse. With well-trained wisteria and honeysuckle vines growing around it, the small building had never looked prettier—except for the inside, which was crammed full of bazaar items.
    “Maybe it would be best to return everything,” Trixie told the others. “I was wondering where we were all going to sit when we held our next meeting.”
    “I wish we had more money to donate to UNICEF,” Honey said.
    Mart, as club treasurer, was still in Di’s house, counting the proceeds. Di was helping him. The Bob-Whites knew, however, that the total was not going to be as much as they’d hoped for.
    “We’ll just have to think of some other moneymaking scheme,” Dan said.
    Brian groaned. “Don’t say that in front of Trixie. She’ll think up more chores for us to do in nothing flat.”
    “As a matter of fact,” Trixie said, “I’ve already thought of something. There’s a big reward for the recovery of that missing Ming vase. If we found it, we could add the reward to the money from the bazaar—”
    “Forget it, Trix,” Brian broke in. “I bet that vase was disposed of months ago.”
    Trixie shook her head. “I don’t think so. You see, today I found out some things about it that we didn’t know before.” She repeated the theory she had already talked over with Honey. “So I think,” she added, “if we go tonight, we might have a good chance of finding that vase at Mr. Crandall’s house.”
    “No.” Brian sounded firm. “Definitely not tonight. I’m bushed, and I’m sure all the others are, too. For crying out loud, Trix, all this is just guesswork on your part.”
    “But I think I’m right.”
    “Maybe you are. In any case, it will keep till tomorrow. We’ll come with you then. We’ve all had enough for one day.”
    “But someone might beat us to it,” Trixie said. “I think some woman was listening when I was telling Honey about it.”
    “And maybe she didn’t hear a thing.” Brian shrugged. “You guys can do as you like, but as soon as we’re through here, I’m going home to sleep for a year.”
    “We have been working hard, Trix,” Jim reminded her, smiling. “Let’s leave it till tomorrow, huh?”
    Dan nodded his agreement.
    Trixie made a face at their backs as they walked away. “I don’t care what the boys say, Honey. I think someone ought to go to Sleepyside Hollow tonight. If no one will come with me, I’m going alone.”
    “Oh, please, don’t!” Honey’s eyes were pleading. “If you wait till tomorrow, we’ll all come. Think of what happened last night. Those woods are haunted, Trixie!”
    “Haunted, my foot!” Trixie reached into her jeans pocket. “I’ve been meaning to show you this.” She pulled out the scrap of black material that she’d found on Mrs. Crandall’s lilac bush.
    Honey rubbed it thoughtfully in her fingers. “Why, Trixie, are you sure this came from the headless horseman’s cloak?”
    “I think so. I found it caught on a twig quite high up from the ground. I had to stand on tiptoe to get it. It was caught at just the right height—if someone was on horseback.”
    “In that case,” Honey said slowly, “the headless horseman is a very modern-thinking ghost. His black cloak, Trixie, is made of polyester!”

    Fifteen minutes later, Trixie and Honey were riding their bikes along the now-familiar path through the woods.
    “I still don’t know how you talked me into this,” Honey remarked, pedaling hard uphill.
    Trixie was pedaling hard beside her. “It was easy,” she answered, panting. “You don’t believe now that the ghost is a ghost. Everyone’s busy, so we’ll never be missed. You don’t like the dark, but right now it’s still light. Our bikes were still in the station wagon. And—” she took a deep breath—“if I’d waited till later, you might have changed your mind about coming with me.”
    “You’re right.” Honey looked fearfully over her shoulder. “If we’d waited till later, you’d have had to drag me here, screaming all the way.” She stopped abruptly. “Trixie! Something’s moving up ahead! What is it?”
    The something crashed forward through the underbrush and hurtled toward them.
    “Honey!” Trixie shouted. “Look out!”
    It was too late. A disheveled