The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

longed for a horse of her very own, and Susie was the nearest thing to it. She told Susie secrets she didn’t even tell Honey.
    As she led the mare into the stable to saddle her, Trixie talked to Susie about Spartan’s dancing and the upcoming show and the need for practice.
    The little mare nodded her head up and down, as though she understood every word. Trixie was sure she did, and would have gone on to tell her about the marsh and Betje Maasden, except that suddenly they were inside the stable. Here the other Bob-Whites were laughing, talking, and saddling their horses.
    Trixie took the tack from the peg in the room where it hung just so. Regan was strict about this— stirrups on the leathers, girth thrown over the saddle, bridle on the hook right under the saddle peg. No Bob-White would have thought of putting gear back any other way.
    Absentmindedly Trixie saddled Susie, walked her a little, tightened the girth, mounted, then, along with Honey, trotted through the pasture gate.
    “You’re having one of your faraway days,” Honey said. “Im just as interested in that strip of land and its owner as you are—more so, maybe, because it’s my brother Jim’s aunt. Right now, though, we’d better concentrate on our jumping. We owe something to Regan for the way he looks after us and our horses, you know—to say nothing of his babysitting Bobby when we need some privacy.” Trixie grasped Susie’s reins more tightly and smiled at Honey. “You’re right. You always are. I wish I didn’t have such a one-track mind. But this will take so much time. Maybe I should ask Regan to let me help with some of the paper work for the show instead of jumping.”
    Honey sat up straight on Lady, and Trixie; slowed, startled by the look on Honey’s face.
    “Trixie Belden, just try putting your one-track mind on practicing. Sometimes you make me furious. Sometimes I think I don’t even want to be a detective!”
    “Don’t say that!” Trixie said, stunned. “It’s our life work. Jumping isn’t.”
    “Try to act as though it is, at least today,” Honey begged. “The show means so much to Regan.”
    “I know that, and I do want to do my best. But if we ride in the Turf Show, it’ll mean daily practice for the next six weeks. I won’t have a chance to do anything else. I have to do my work at the hospital. I have to help Moms. What I want to do more than anything in the world is to try to solve mysteries. We’re just at the beginning of a good one now—Betje Maasden and that man at the marsh.”
    “Oh, Trixie, they haven’t anything to do with one another,” Honey said, laughing. “Anyway, the Turf Show won’t require daily practice. Regan said once a week, if we practice hard. And I’ll help you with the housework and Bobby too.”
    All morning, out in the pasture, Trixie watched Jupiter sail proudly over the bars and watched Brian on Starlight and Mart on Strawberry take their turns.
    It looked so easy, even for Honey on Lady. But, somehow, even though Trixie brought Susie right up to the bar at a romping gallop, the little horse turned her head and just walked around it.
    “I’ll never be able to jump,” Trixie told Regan, almost in tears.
    “That’s right,” he agreed. “You never will and Susie never will, unless you keep your mind on what you are doing. Susie can take those jumps without half trying. The trouble is with you. Try it again. This time put your heart into it. If you throw your heart and your mind into the effort, you and the horse will jump together.”
    “We’ll try it, Regan,” Trixie said, ashamed. “This time I think we’re going to make it.”
    When her turn came, Trixie circled the jumps several times, talking to Susie, petting her, and encouraging her. Then, confidently, she headed for the first hurdle, rose lightly over Susie’s withers, and gave the takeoff signal.
    Up they soared—and over!
    A cry went up from the other Bob-Whites, who had watched, without comment, Trixie’s many attempts and failures.
    “Susie never touched the bar with her hooves!” Trixie called triumphantly. “May I try it again, Regan, even if it’s out of turn?”
    “Go ahead,” Regan said. “Good girl! Keep at it while the going’s good!”
    When she slowed at the end of four jumps, Trixie turned Susie and cantered up to where Regan was standing.
    “That was real show riding,” he told her. “Nothing to it, is there, Trixie?”
    Trixie slid out of her saddle and put her head