The Mystery off Glen Road

have to patrol. Is that all right with you?”
    “Certainly,” Mrs. Belden said with a smile. “Di,; with two sets of twins for brothers and sisters, should be a perfectly competent baby-sitter.”
    “Good.” Trixie dashed downstairs and out to the terrace where Bobby was playing with a small, red fire engine. She grabbed his hand. “Come on. You’re going to spend the afternoon up at the Manor House.”
    He pulled his hand free. “Hey! Whatcha think ya; doing? You hurted me, badly.”
    “I didn’t, either,” Trixie retorted. “But I am in a hurry. Come on.” She scooped up his red fire engine. “You can play with this up there just as well as you can down here.”
    “CAN’T!” he yelled. “All my firemen are down here.”
    Trixie tried to control her impatience. “Well, bring the firemen along, too. Not that I see any.”
    He gave her a withering look and began to gather; up some clothespins that he had dipped into red ink. He put some of them into the fire engine and stuffed the others into the pockets of his jeans. “My men,” he announced in a tone of voice that indicated that Trixie was both blind and stupid. “I’m the chief, ’course.”
    “Oh, I see,” Trixie said meekly. “You can put out a lot of fires on the Wheelers’ veranda. Ben and Di are going to play with you while Honey and I patrol the preserve. You will be a good boy, won’t you, Bobby?”
    He tossed his blond, silky curls. “Not a boy. I’m a fire chief!” He led the way up the path, and, when they reached the stable, he ran ahead to throw himself into Regan’s arms. “I’m a fire chief, Regan,” he yelled. “Hey! You got some fires for me to put out?”
    “Why, sure,” Regan replied, hoisting the little boy to a seat on his broad shoulders.
    Honey had already saddled and bridled Susie and Starlight. She handed the black mare’s reins to Trixie and mounted the chestnut gelding. “Di and Ben,” she told Trixie, “drove into town to get some stuff Ben forgot this morning. Isn’t that typical of him? He brought back everything but the most important items: the turkey and pumpkin pies!”
    “Oh,” Trixie moaned. “I can’t go until they come back. Who’ll keep an eye on Bobby?”
    “I will,” Regan offered good-naturedly. “There’s a whole box of crinkly red tissue paper upstairs in my room. It’ll make a grand fire, won’t it, Bobby?” He set Bobby down astride the little engine and rang the bell.
    Starlight shied, and if Honey hadn’t been such an excellent horsewoman, she might have fallen off.
    “That will teach you,” Regan said, frowning up at her. “Sitting there like a sack of meal, with the reins slack! You should know better, Honey Wheeler, and if you don’t, it’s time you learn.”
    Honey flushed. “I am getting awfully careless, Regan,” she admitted. “It’s just that Trixie and I have done so much riding lately that I feel more at home in the saddle than I do in a chair.”
    “Feel at home as much as you like,” he retorted. “But don’t forget that a horse is a live animal. A chair isn’t. Even the best rider can get thrown and dragged by the gentlest, best-schooled horse in the world.” He turned on Trixie the moment she had swung into the saddle. “You’ve been getting careless lately, too. If you don’t remember to keep your heels down, you won’t be allowed to ride anything around here except a sawhorse.” He grinned suddenly to let them know that he wasn’t really cross. “Get going, you two. What are you waiting for—a streetcar?”
    They walked their horses down the driveway, and, as soon as they were out of earshot, Trixie said to Honey, “Regan is really so wonderful. I don’t know how he stands us. Taking care of Bobby when this is supposed to be his afternoon off, isn’t it?” Honey nodded. “Regan adores Bobby, and, besides, you know how he is about his day off. He usually hangs around here, anyway.” They trotted along the edge of Glen Road until they reached Mr. Lytell’s store, then turned north into the woods.
    “Today,” Trixie said firmly, “we’re not going to stick to the trails. It won’t get dark for another three hours, so we’ve just got to explore the paths.”
    “Oh, Trixie,” Honey wailed. “Today of all days!”
    “What’s wrong with today?” Trixie demanded. “Tomorrow I’ve got to spend most of the time helping Moms. We may even wake up and find ourselves in the midst of a blizzard. If so, we won’t be