The Mystery of the Headless Horseman

my bed. My bet with Mart is as good as won, so I figure he can start paying off right now.”
    Mart sauntered in. “Did I hear you talking about beds?” he asked. “If so, I would remind a certain someone that there are still a few hours left for me to weave my magic upon our canny canine. Today, I’m determined that dog will do what I want him to. A whole month of bedmaking depends on it.”
    Trixie laughed. Even Mart didn’t sound angry with her anymore. Maybe he never had been. Now that she thought about it, she had been hard to live with all week.
    “It’s so nice to see you cheerful again, Trixie,” her mother said, smiling.
    “That’s because I’ve made up with Di,” Trixie said. “Oh, it feels so good!”
    Mart stared. “That’s funny. I saw Di last night, and she didn’t say anything about making up. In fact, she gave me the impression that your name was still mud as far as she was concerned.”
    “Well, you were wrong.” Trixie turned away. “I couldn’t eat a thing this morning, Moms. I guess I’m too excited. Do you mind if I leave now?”
    Startled, Helen Belden looked at the clock. “But, Trixie, it’s only seven-thirty!”
    So Trixie had to wait. The time seemed to drag by. At nine-thirty, however, she felt she couldn’t wait a moment longer. She bicycled as fast as she could to the mailbox at the bottom of the Lynches’ driveway.
    To her surprise, Honey was already there. Something about her made Trixie think that Honey had been at that mailbox for a very long time—and pacing up and down, at that. She forgot all about it when Honey came hurrying to meet her.
    “Hi, Honey!” Trixie called. “What a beautiful day! I feel so happy I could fly like a bird. Watch!” She spread her arms wide and flapped them up and down.
    Honey didn’t say anything.
    “Honey?” Trixie’s arms dropped to her side. “Is anything wrong?”
    “Wrong? What could be wrong?” Honey swallowed. “Everything’s just fine. Really.”
    As soon as Di appeared around a curve in the driveway, however, Trixie could tell that everything was not just fine.
    Di was wearing a bright flowered outfit. Her face, though, was wearing no expression whatsoever. When she caught sight of Trixie, her face looked as if she would turn right around and go back home.
    Honey obviously thought so, too. “Wait here,” she muttered, then hurried forward to where Di was standing, stiff and silent.
    Soon Trixie could tell they were in the middle of a heated discussion. Honey was waving her arms and talking as hard as she could. Di was shaking her head vigorously.
    Trixie walked up to them. “What’s going on?” she asked. “It’s almost ten o’clock. Has something gone wrong with the arrangements?”
    “You may as well know,” Honey said. “I made two sets of arrangements for today. One was with you and me. The other was with Di and me. Oh, you’re going to kill me, both of you! You see, Trix, I didn’t tell Di you were coming with us this morning.”
    “Oh, Honey! How could you!” Trixie cried.
    “I thought it was such a terrific idea yesterday,” Honey explained. “I thought it would get you two back together again. But last night, when I told Miss Trask what I’d done, she said I shouldn’t have interfered. Do you know how long I’ve been standing by that mailbox? A whole hour! I was trying to get up enough courage to tell you both what I’d done.”
    Di looked angry. “Why did you do it, Honey?” Suddenly, Honey lost her temper. “Someone had to do something,” she yelled. “Do you know how impossible you two have been this week? And then when Brian and Mart said the Bob-Whites might as well break up—”
    Di gasped. “Break up? But why?”
    “Oh, Di, don’t you see?” Trixie said. “If we Bob-Whites can’t get along together, how can we hope to help other people? I’m really sorry I’ve upset you. Won’t you be friends again?”
    “Will you admit that you were wrong to suspect my butler of being a crook?”
    “Why is it so important to you?” Trixie cried. “Mart’s told you the whole story. You have to admit that Harrison’s actions are very strange.”
    “I expect Harrison has a very good reason for everything he’s done,” Di snapped. “Anyway, he hasn’t done anything wrong. I just know it.” Trixie wished she could be as sure as Di that Harrison was innocent of any wrongdoing, but she wasn’t. On the other hand, which was more important—being right or being