The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

his son and daughter and their friends. When they did compete, though, Regan wanted them to reflect credit on his training.
    “Here comes Dan now,” Mart said, “with Di. I wonder what they’re laughing about.’’
    “Do you know what Dan just told me?” Diana said a few minutes later as she reined in Sunny and slid out of the saddle. “You’d never guess in a hundred years. He said Spartan can dance!”
    “He can,” Dan insisted to the hooting Bob-Whites. “The man Mr. Wheeler bought him from said he used to be in a circus. I forgot about that till this morning. I had to get up real early to look over some traps for Mr. Maypenny. I took my transistor along—”
    “And went to sleep and dreamed Spartan was dancing,” Mart broke in.
    Dan just ignored him. “I had the ‘Whispering Strings’ on. You know that trio that’s playing at the hotel in White Plains? Well, I was just riding along listening. All at once I noticed that Spartan was doing some fancy wriggling. I thought maybe he’d stepped in a rabbit hole, but it wasn’t that. He was waltzing! He threw out his left back leg, then picked up his front right and—”
    “Waltzing!” Trixie cried. “Spartan?“
    “Yeah... three-quarter time!” Dan said and patted Spartan’s shoulder. “Want to see him do it?”
    “This is one I’ve got to see,” Regan said.
    “I brought my radio with me. Watch. I’ll turn it on.” Dan dialed for the music. “Spartan’s a real ham,” he added proudly. “Watch him!”
    The handsome old roan really did dance, awkwardly and a little shakily but unmistakably in time to the music. He didn’t even seem to mind when the Bob-Whites took up the rhythm and clapped out the beat. He just danced faster.
    Regan pushed his cap back on his head. “Now I’ve seen everything. Say, this gives me an idea. We can dress Spartan up and use him for the clown at the horse show—” He broke off at sight of Dan’s frowning face.
    Dan jumped off the old horse, backed him up, and turned him around to face the group. “Spartan’s no down!” he said in a resentful tone. “He’s smarter than any other horse around here. Just because he’s old and maybe not a Thoroughbred—”
    “Oh, come off it,” Regan told his nephew. “Nobody’s running down your horse. There’s Arabian blood in him, too, Dan, even if it is tired blood after twenty-five years. He has more Arabian blood than any of these other horses, except Susie.”
    Dan perked up, but he still thrust out his lip.
    He’s no clown, anyway.”
    “What’s wrong with being the down?” Mart asked.
    “Yeah,” Brian added. “The clown horse is always the hit of the whole show. Any well-trained horse can go through all the paces: walking, trotting, galloping, cantering, even jumping. It takes a real star to clown.”
    “Brian s right,” Honey said. “But Spartan doesn’t have to be a clown to do his dance. He would look cute, though, dressed up....”
    “With a tutu around his tummy,” Trixie added excitedly, “and a wreath of flowers on his head.”
    “Spartan s no girl horse, Trixie,” Dan said and kicked the gravel in disgust. “I’d rather he’d be the clown than that. He does kinda like the limelight, and if you think it would add to the show....”
    “It’ll make the show.” Regan s face lit up. “Will you do it, Dan?”
    Dan nodded. “If Spartan will.”
    “Then let’s get on with the jumping,” Regan said. “Trixie, bring Susie in from the pasture and saddle her. Jupiter’s the only horse I kept in the stable this morning. Jim will have to let him run for a while before he saddles him. He’s too high-spirited right now.”
    Humming “The Blue Danube,” Dan tied Spartan in one of the stalls and went out to the pasture to help Regan set up the jumps.
    The other Bob-Whites scattered. Diana intended only to watch the practice, because Sunny was not a jumper. There were only three other palominos in the county, and all they would do in the show would be to march and look beautiful.
    Trixie climbed over the pasture fence and snapped her fingers to call Susie. The little black mare cantered over to take the carrot Trixie held out to her. When she had crunched it juicily, she sniffed at the pocket where it had been hidden and bumped Trixie lovingly with her nose, wanting more.
    Something deep within Trixie stirred as she ran her hand lovingly down Susie’s neck and put her face close to the little mare’s cheek.
    She had always