The Mystery off Glen Road

of the game preserve now. We should be farther east and closer to Glen Road. I told Dad we’d ride to Mr. Lytell’s store and get the Sunday papers.”
    “But, Trixie,” Honey wailed, “why did you promise to do such a silly thing? We simply haven’t time. Miss Trask would have got your family’s papers when she went to get ours, as you know very well.”
    “There was a method in my madness,” Trixie said, leading the way down toward the road. “I want to find out more about that strange character we saw yesterday.”
    Honey laughed helplessly. “The Man with the Red Cap! You’re convinced he’s a poacher. Oh, Trix! Why must you always think like an amateur detective?”
    Trixie joined in her laughter. “I suppose I am silly to suspect somebody who probably never killed so much as a fly on somebody else’s property, but he was wearing hunting boots, Honey.”
    They walked their horses along the trail. “Was he?” Honey asked. “I didn’t notice. I was so fascinated by that turtleneck sweater and those weird woolen knickers he was wearing!”
    “He was wearing hunting boots, all right,” Trixie told her. “And he left a footprint on that tiny path he disappeared into. If we were FBI men, we could lift that footprint and match it up with the other one we found at the fork.”
    “Well, we’re not FBI men, or women, either, for that matter,” Honey said. “And I don’t think poachers look like that strange man did. They should wear green clothes so they can fade into the forest the way Robin Hood did. No poacher in his right mind would barge around wearing a bright red cap.”
    “Yes, he would,” Trixie argued. “During the deer season, everyone in his right mind wears a red cap so he won’t be mistaken for a deer.”
    “We’re not,” Honey reminded her.
    “We’re riding horses,” Trixie said. “Nobody could suspect us of being a deer.”
    “Or does,” Honey said with a laugh. “Not even centauresses. Anyway, I still don’t think that funny-looking man is a poacher. He wasn’t carrying a gun, for one thing. All he was carrying was a box of groceries. Because I was on my horse when he passed us, I could see what was in the carton, and it couldn’t have been more innocent. Tea, coffee, sugar, salt, tiny cans of condensed milk—things like that. His wife probably sent him shopping, and—”
    “But he was trespassing,” Trixie interrupted. “Pooh,” Honey said. “He was probably taking a shortcut home. There’s no harm in that.”
    “But where is his home?” Trixie demanded. “I never saw him before, so he can’t be a neighbor. And he certainly wasn’t planning to carry that big carton for miles and miles.”
    “He and his family might have moved into the neighborhood recently,” Honey pointed out.
    “That’s not possible,” Trixie said emphatically. “Your father bought up all the land around here that was for sale, didn’t he?”
    Honey nodded. “But that man might be living in a rented house.”
    “There aren’t any,” Trixie said. “You know as well as I do, Honey, that there are only huge estates around here. The people who own them have been living there for generations. They wouldn’t think of renting them. Even if they did, that odd-looking man couldn’t afford to pay the rent they’d ask.”
    “I’m not so sure about that,” Honey said. “Sometimes people do rent their big country places—if they’re going abroad, for instance. And you ought to know better than to judge a book by its cover. I never saw. Jim’s great-uncle, but you did. There was a very rich man who looked and lived like a pauper.”
    “True,” Trixie agreed. “Oh, dear,” she interrupted herself. “Here come the dogs. I thought they were with the boys.”
    Reddy and Jim’s springer spaniel, Patch, came bounding out of a narrow path onto the trail.
    “Go home,” Trixie and Honey yelled in unison, but the dogs only replied with joyous barks. They were obviously on the trail of something, and, after greeting the girls, they raced off.
    “Good riddance,” Trixie said. “We couldn’t possibly track down a poacher with those two barging around and barking their heads off.”
    “They’d come in mighty handy if we got lost,” Hoijey said. “Although I suppose if we gave the horses their heads, they’d take us back home.”
    “Not these two,” Trixie replied. “Strawberry and Jupiter and Lady would, but Starlight and Susie don’t know any more about this