The Pet Show Mystery

long—to ignore it. I suppose she thought that it would go away by itself.
    “By the time she faced the truth and brought the dog to me, it was too late. I did what I could. She wanted me to do more. Finally I told her there was nothing more to be done. I told her the animal should be put down, to end its suffering.”
    “Is that what she did?” Trixie asked. “Eventually,” Dr. Chang said, “after she took the dog to another vet who said the same thing. By then, however, she’d decided I’d wasted time trying ineffective treatments. She said she could have saved the dog by taking it to the other vet first. It wasn’t true, of course. But I suppose it eased the guilt she felt about ignoring the tumor for so long.”
    “So she killed her own dog and blamed it on you,” Trixie said bluntly.
    “I think your way of putting it is too strong,” Dr. Chang told Trixie. “I don’t know that I could have saved the dog if she’d brought it to me immediately. But she did blame me for the dog’s death.”
    “That was so long ago,” Honey said. “You’d think she’d be over her anger by now.”
    “It really wasn’t anger, though,” Dr. Chang said. “I think it was guilt. That feeling tends to last quite a while—forever, sometimes.”
    “Poor Miss von Trammel,” Honey murmured.
    Dr. Chang’s story seemed to cast a pall of sadness over the room. The young people finished their discussion, said good-bye to Dr. Chang, and headed for the car.
    As soon as they were on their way home, however, Jim said briskly, “What’s the idea of bringing up Miss von Trammel? You two girls were fishing for something. What was it?”
    “We still think the rumor about the pet show was started deliberately,” Trixie said. “We wanted to find out if Miss von Trammel was a likely suspect.”
    Jim looked puzzled. “And?” he asked lead-ingly.
    Trixie blew out a long sigh. “And it looks like we were wrong. Anybody who once loved a dog that much wouldn’t try to sabotage a pet show that’s raising money to keep animals from starving.”
    “It’s good to see you backing away from a conclusion, instead of jumping to one,” Jim said.
    The playful comment made Trixie’s temper flare. “Just because I was wrong about Miss von Trammel doesn’t mean I’m wrong about the rumor. Somebody started it, and I’m going to find out who did—with your help or without it!”



7 * The Man from the Mall

    IN THE SCHOOL CAFETERIA the next day, the Bob-Whites made it clear that they would have no part of a mystery.
    “The pet show is only a week and a half away,” Jim said. “We have to give it all our energy, so we can get everything done in time.”
    “We can’t afford any wild-goose chases,” Brian said. He paused and smiled at his unintentional pun. “Not if we want to save the pheasants.”
    “I have barely enough time to give to the pet show,” Dan said. “I can’t investigate a rumor, too.”
    “I heartily concur,” Mart said. “The mysteries of subsorts are the only sort I can devote my attention to.”
    “Does that mean you’re still having computer problems?” Di asked.
    “A few minor discrepancies continue to plague me. I shall set them to rest in the next day or two,” Mart said.
    “You’d better,” Trixie said. “Otherwise, there surely won’t be any wild-goose chases, because our goose will be cooked .”
    Trixie’s joke was met with loud groans. “Okay, back to the business at hand,” Jim said. “I ran into Nick Roberts this morning. He wants us to drop by his father’s shop and pick out the trophies and ribbons we want for the show. Who’s going to go, and when?”
    “The sooner the better,” Brian said.
    “For sure, except I’m really busy this afternoon,” Mart said through an enormous mouthful of sandwich. “I’ll be closeted with the computer, as usual.”
    “I have to take the first bus home,” Dan said. “I do, too. Sorry,” Di added.
    “Well, there’s still four of us,” Jim said.
    “Two of whom need to man the sign-up table,” Brian pointed out.
    “Ah-ha! Then Honey and I get to go to the store and pick out the trophies,” Trixie said, rising quickly from the table.
    “How did you reach that conclusion?” Jim asked.
    “Well, if someone’s going to man the table, it has to be you and Brian, doesn’t it? Meanwhile, the women will be downtown picking out ribbons. We’ll be back here in time for our ride home. See you!” Before the boys could protest,