The Secret of the Silver Star
Chapter 1
Committees, Committees
Fourteen-year-old Trixie Belden hurried into the packed cafeteria at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High, looking for her friends. From a table near the middle, she saw Honey Wheeler waving to catch her attention. She pushed through the crowd and claimed the seat Honey had saved for her. “Gleeps!” she exclaimed. “The turn-out is terrific! I’m so glad so many people showed up. Thanks for saving me a spot. I might not have had anywhere to sit otherwise.”
“We were beginning to think you weren’t going to make it,” Honey told her, chuckling at her friend’s breathless enthusiasm. “Mr. Stratton is about to speak.”
“Where were you?” Diana Lynch asked curiously. “We thought you were going to be one of the first people here this afternoon.”
“No doubt my belated distaff sibling was delayed due to an academic necessity involving the worthwhile study of mathematics. She likely sought the tutoring assistance of-“
“Oh, stow it, brother-not-so-dear,” Trixie grumbled, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. At only eleven months her senior, Mart was sometimes mistaken for Trixie’s twin. To minimize the physical similarities, he kept his sandy blond hair in a crew cut, preventing it from growing out into the bouncy, often wayward curls that were sometimes the bane of Trixie’s existence.
Trixie tossed those curls now in a defiant gesture. “I’ll have you know,” she continued, “I was actually helping Miss Wiley clean up the science lab. And no, before you say anything else, it was not because I’d made any kind of mess. She asked a few of us to stay and help her wash the test tubes and beakers she’d used in an experiment.”
“Has anyone seen Dan since lunch?” Honey asked quickly, hoping to prevent any more squabbling between the two.
Trixie nodded. “I spoke to him between fifth and sixth periods. He’s got a meeting with Mrs. Moore about an internship next summer with the Police Youth Foundation. I guess he needs to start now collecting recommendations to apply for a position as one of their day camp counselors. He said he’d get here as soon as he could.”
“Oh! I’m sure Daddy would be willing to write him a letter,” Honey exclaimed. “He told me just the other day how impressed he is with how hard Dan’s been working in the preserve.”
Honey Wheeler lived with her family on a vast estate a few miles outside of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, a small town about an hour north of New York City. The Manor House sat on a low hill overlooking well-manicured lawns and a stable, and was surrounded by acres of game preserve. When the Wheelers first moved to Sleepyside, Honey had been a sickly, lonely girl who suffered from frightening nightmares and phobias. That had all changed, though, with new friendships and a series of adventures which included the finding and rescuing of orphaned Jim Frayne. When Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler announced they were adopting Jim and Honey would have a big brother, she’d felt her happiness was complete.
Honey, Jim, Diana, Dan, Trixie, and Mart, along with the eldest Belden brother, Brian, were part of a semi-secret club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen, dedicated to having fun and helping others. Dan, as the newest member, had joined shortly after moving to Sleepyside from the city. An orphan like Jim, Dan had fallen in with a bad crowd and landed in trouble with the law. Luckily, the courts were able to track down his uncle, the Wheelers’ hard-working groom William Regan, and he’d come to Sleepyside to live and work on the Wheeler estate while attending the local school. It was his dream to someday become a policeman, and he worked hard to overcome his troubled past and make that goal a reality.
“I’m sure your father would do that for him,” Trixie agreed. “And Dan deserves it. I really hope he gets this counseling job next summer, even if it means we might not get to see him very often.”
The group fell silent as the school principal came to stand before them on the small stage that ran along the back wall of the cafeteria. He held up his hands to quiet the buzzing conversations around him and soon, all attention was on him.
“Good afternoon, boys and girls,” Mr. Stratton said pleasantly. “I’m very happy to see so many of you here today. I’m proud that our Sleepyside students have been so eager to help with what’s turning into a very large project. I’m sure you’re all eagerly awaiting the announcements of our finalized plans, so, without further ado, let me turn this over to your newly elected student council president.”
Brian Belden rose from a chair near the front, and Trixie felt a flash of pride. A senior, he’d been nominated for the council presidency a few weeks before at the beginning of the school year. She wasn’t at all surprised that he had won the election. Studious, responsible, and diligent, Brian was the perfect choice for the job. Unlike Mart and Trixie, who took after their pretty blond-haired, blue-eyed mother, Brian was the spitting image of Mr. Belden, with dark brown eyes and thick, wavy brown hair. He stood before the assembled students now, smiling and clearly at ease. Trixie thought he looked particularly handsome in his knitted beige sweater, a gift from their mother. She shot a glance at Honey, knowing her friend was secretly thinking the same thing, even if she would never voice the thought out loud.
“I want to start by thanking you for coming this afternoon,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard across the room. “We don’t want to keep you long, but I know you’re all wondering what we’re planning and how you can help. We had a lot of great ideas put in the suggestion box, and after meeting with Mr. Stratton, the school board, and a committee of teachers and students, we’ve come up with what we hope will be a great success. As you know, the town of Westwood suffered severe damage during the storms that crossed our state two weeks ago. Several homes were destroyed. Many businesses experienced property damage and loss. The high school lost its library and gymnasium. Westwood is still struggling to pick up the pieces and that’s where we come in. Initially, Westwood High cancelled their annual football game with us and I know you were all disappointed about that, but Coach Harker got together with Coach Sands from Central High to loan the Westwood team what equipment they need and now they’ve agreed to come.”
A cheer went up at this announcement. The rivalry game between the Sleepyside Stallions and the Westwood Hornets was a tradition that went back many years and was considered a highlight of the football season.
Brian smiled and nodded. “This presents us with the perfect opportunity to extend a helping hand. The game is in two and a half weeks. It doesn’t give us a lot of time, but if we work together, I’m sure we can pull it off. To start, we’re organizing a chili cook-off to be held in the parking lot before the game. This will serve two functions. The first is to allow us to provide a free meal for the visiting team and their fans. Second, there will be a ten dollar fee to enter the cook-off, and all money collected will be donated to the funds to help rebuild Westwood. We’d like to have two categories for the cook-off. One will be for professional cooks and chefs. The other is for amateurs. For the professionals, the grand prize will be a dinner for two and night’s stay at the Glen Road Inn, so the winner can relax and have someone else do the cooking for once. And to encourage Sleepyside amateur cooks to sign up, the Schuman Brothers grocery store will be awarding a fifty-dollar gift certificate to the winning chef. We'll need several students to sign up to be on the cook-off committee. Our student council vice president, Melissa Abbott, has volunteered to head the committee, so if you’re interested in helping, see her.”
Brian paused and stepped back to allow Melissa a moment to stand and wave to the other students. “I’ve got a sign-up sheet right here,” she called out, holding up a clip board. “And if I don’t get enough volunteers, I will start conscripting people!”
Laughter met this declaration. Melissa had a reputation for organizing and corralling students into all kinds of groups and projects.
“I think I might sign up for that,” Diana said, glancing at her friends. “If nothing else, I could help paint signs and serve the chili.”
“We could all sign up as a Bob-White project,” Trixie suggested. “We came today looking for ways to help, and this is certainly one of them. And we should get Moms to enter the amateur competition.” Helen Belden, affectionately known as “Moms,” was a cook of some renown.
“We should,” Di concurred with a smile. “She could win it easily. Your mother makes wonderful chili. Not too spicy, but not too plain, either. I especially like it when she adds the shredded cheese on top.”
Brian stepped forward again, reclaiming their attention. “In addition to the cook-off, we’re looking to collect donations of all kinds. Westwood needs just about everything - clothes, food, toys, books. Almost anything you can think of. We’d like to surprise Westwood at the game by having some of our own buses filled with donations to follow them home that night. Again, this is going to take some hard work and we’ll need a separate committee in charge. Jim Frayne has volunteered to lead this one.”
Jim rose, grinning. “I’ve got a sign-up sheet, too,” he said, waving his clip board. “And consider this me issuing the same threat – I mean invitation to volunteer that Melissa just gave you.”
Mart shook his head, chuckling. “If Jim’s leading this committee, I suppose that means we should consider ourselves already signed up.” He sent his sister a teasing glance. “At least we know someone who will have her name on the list.”
Trixie felt a blush stain her freckled cheeks. It was no real secret that she admired Honey’s red-headed brother. She lifted her chin, refusing to take the bait. “It’s a worthy cause,” she said stiffly. “I see no reason why we can’t help with both committees, if we want to. We could divide up the work. You, Di, and Dan could be on the chili committee, and Honey and I can join Jim for the donations. I think Brian will be busy enough with the overall organization tasks.”
“What are you volun-telling me for now, Trix?” an amused voice asked from behind.
They turned to see Dan standing behind them. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt and his red Bob-Whites jacket. His grin was wide and friendly. Looking up at him, Trixie was struck again by the vast change in Dan from surly ex-gang member to relaxed, happy teen.
“There’s going to be a chili cook-off,” Honey explained. “And donations on buses.”
“And the football game isn’t cancelled after all, so we don’t have much time,” Trixie told him.
Dan blinked, then looked over at Mart. “Was that an answer to my question? Because I don’t really feel like I got an actual answer.”
Honey giggled and slid closer to Diana, patting a small space at her side. “Here. Sit down and we’ll wait for the end of the assembly to catch you up. For now, just think chili.”
Brian made a few more general announcements, then finished with again encouraging the students to sign up for the different committees. As the meeting broke up, most of the students surged toward the stage, looking to put their names down to help.
“Ugh,” Di murmured. “Maybe we should just sit here and wait for the worst of the crowd to clear out?”
“Sounds good to me,” Trixie said. “I’m glad to see such long lines of volunteers forming, but that doesn’t mean I want to stand in them.”
Mart stood and picked up his backpack. “I need to stop by the library before we leave,” he said. “I have to choose a biography to read for English. Trix, you can go ahead and sign me up for the chili cook-off committee.”
“Oh!” Di exclaimed. “Do you mind if I tag along? I’ve got a history paper to write on the Napoleonic Wars and I need to do some research. At this point, all I know is they had nothing to do with ice cream.”
For a moment, blank confusion met this announcement, then Honey slowly smiled. “Did you get Napoleonic confused with Neapolitan?” she asked.
Di winced and nodded. “Yes,” she admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “But at least I only said something to Ruthie Kettner. It would’ve been far worse if I’d spoken up in front of the entire class.”
“Well, come along then,” Mart said grandly, “and I will assist you in locating the proper reading materials.”
As the two left the cafeteria, Trixie turned to Dan. “Well, this will give us a chance to tell you what you missed,” she began.
“Actually,” Dan said with a small frown, “this will give me a chance to talk to you. I’ve been hoping to speak with you and Honey alone for the past couple of days.”
Trixie’s brows shot up. “What’s up?” she demanded, regarding him with sudden, keen interest.
“It’s about Uncle Bill,” he replied. “Something is going on with him, but I don’t know what. He’s been acting very… mysteriously. He’s been gone a couple of times I’ve gone to see him, but he won’t tell me where. Just says he’s been running errands.”
Trixie and Honey exchanged quick glances. Anything mysterious always had their attention. With help from the other Bob-Whites, the girls had solved a series of unusual mysteries and puzzles that had come their way. It was their plan to open a detective agency once they were finished with school, and any chance to hone their skills as private investigators was welcomed.
“But you think it’s something more?” Trixie pressed. “Do you think he might actually disappear again?”
Not too long before, William Regan had vanished with no word beyond a cryptic letter to his nephew, seeking to clear his name from accusations of a crime he had not committed. Trixie and Honey tracked him down and the case was solved. Regan returned to Sleepyside and the Bob-Whites hoped it was for good. A great friend to them all, they didn’t want to see him leave again.
“I don’t know what he might do!” Dan said, clearly frustrated. “I asked him, but you know how he is. He told me nothing was wrong and not to worry.”
“Maybe that’s the truth,” Honey suggested gently. “He’s been awfully busy lately, you know. We haven’t been able to help out in the stable as much since school started up.”
Dan huffed out a breath. “Maybe so. I hope so. Still, I’m worried. I can’t help it.”
Trixie sent him a sympathetic look. Regan was Dan’s only living relative. It was natural that he’d worry about him and be concerned if he thought there was something wrong. “By the time we get home today, it will be too late to go for a ride,” she said, “and tomorrow we Beldens are promised to help set up tables at the civic hall for Moms’ garden club show this weekend. But what about Friday? We could all meet at the stable and then maybe figure out what, if anything, is bothering Regan.”
Dan nodded gratefully. “Thanks. Yeah. That sounds like a plan. And if I’m overacting, feel free to tell me so, but I feel it in my bones. Something is up.”
“Well,” Trixie murmured lightly, hoping to set her friend’s mind at ease, “if something is up, we’ll just have to get to the bottom of it.”
Committees, Committees
Fourteen-year-old Trixie Belden hurried into the packed cafeteria at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High, looking for her friends. From a table near the middle, she saw Honey Wheeler waving to catch her attention. She pushed through the crowd and claimed the seat Honey had saved for her. “Gleeps!” she exclaimed. “The turn-out is terrific! I’m so glad so many people showed up. Thanks for saving me a spot. I might not have had anywhere to sit otherwise.”
“We were beginning to think you weren’t going to make it,” Honey told her, chuckling at her friend’s breathless enthusiasm. “Mr. Stratton is about to speak.”
“Where were you?” Diana Lynch asked curiously. “We thought you were going to be one of the first people here this afternoon.”
“No doubt my belated distaff sibling was delayed due to an academic necessity involving the worthwhile study of mathematics. She likely sought the tutoring assistance of-“
“Oh, stow it, brother-not-so-dear,” Trixie grumbled, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. At only eleven months her senior, Mart was sometimes mistaken for Trixie’s twin. To minimize the physical similarities, he kept his sandy blond hair in a crew cut, preventing it from growing out into the bouncy, often wayward curls that were sometimes the bane of Trixie’s existence.
Trixie tossed those curls now in a defiant gesture. “I’ll have you know,” she continued, “I was actually helping Miss Wiley clean up the science lab. And no, before you say anything else, it was not because I’d made any kind of mess. She asked a few of us to stay and help her wash the test tubes and beakers she’d used in an experiment.”
“Has anyone seen Dan since lunch?” Honey asked quickly, hoping to prevent any more squabbling between the two.
Trixie nodded. “I spoke to him between fifth and sixth periods. He’s got a meeting with Mrs. Moore about an internship next summer with the Police Youth Foundation. I guess he needs to start now collecting recommendations to apply for a position as one of their day camp counselors. He said he’d get here as soon as he could.”
“Oh! I’m sure Daddy would be willing to write him a letter,” Honey exclaimed. “He told me just the other day how impressed he is with how hard Dan’s been working in the preserve.”
Honey Wheeler lived with her family on a vast estate a few miles outside of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, a small town about an hour north of New York City. The Manor House sat on a low hill overlooking well-manicured lawns and a stable, and was surrounded by acres of game preserve. When the Wheelers first moved to Sleepyside, Honey had been a sickly, lonely girl who suffered from frightening nightmares and phobias. That had all changed, though, with new friendships and a series of adventures which included the finding and rescuing of orphaned Jim Frayne. When Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler announced they were adopting Jim and Honey would have a big brother, she’d felt her happiness was complete.
Honey, Jim, Diana, Dan, Trixie, and Mart, along with the eldest Belden brother, Brian, were part of a semi-secret club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen, dedicated to having fun and helping others. Dan, as the newest member, had joined shortly after moving to Sleepyside from the city. An orphan like Jim, Dan had fallen in with a bad crowd and landed in trouble with the law. Luckily, the courts were able to track down his uncle, the Wheelers’ hard-working groom William Regan, and he’d come to Sleepyside to live and work on the Wheeler estate while attending the local school. It was his dream to someday become a policeman, and he worked hard to overcome his troubled past and make that goal a reality.
“I’m sure your father would do that for him,” Trixie agreed. “And Dan deserves it. I really hope he gets this counseling job next summer, even if it means we might not get to see him very often.”
The group fell silent as the school principal came to stand before them on the small stage that ran along the back wall of the cafeteria. He held up his hands to quiet the buzzing conversations around him and soon, all attention was on him.
“Good afternoon, boys and girls,” Mr. Stratton said pleasantly. “I’m very happy to see so many of you here today. I’m proud that our Sleepyside students have been so eager to help with what’s turning into a very large project. I’m sure you’re all eagerly awaiting the announcements of our finalized plans, so, without further ado, let me turn this over to your newly elected student council president.”
Brian Belden rose from a chair near the front, and Trixie felt a flash of pride. A senior, he’d been nominated for the council presidency a few weeks before at the beginning of the school year. She wasn’t at all surprised that he had won the election. Studious, responsible, and diligent, Brian was the perfect choice for the job. Unlike Mart and Trixie, who took after their pretty blond-haired, blue-eyed mother, Brian was the spitting image of Mr. Belden, with dark brown eyes and thick, wavy brown hair. He stood before the assembled students now, smiling and clearly at ease. Trixie thought he looked particularly handsome in his knitted beige sweater, a gift from their mother. She shot a glance at Honey, knowing her friend was secretly thinking the same thing, even if she would never voice the thought out loud.
“I want to start by thanking you for coming this afternoon,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard across the room. “We don’t want to keep you long, but I know you’re all wondering what we’re planning and how you can help. We had a lot of great ideas put in the suggestion box, and after meeting with Mr. Stratton, the school board, and a committee of teachers and students, we’ve come up with what we hope will be a great success. As you know, the town of Westwood suffered severe damage during the storms that crossed our state two weeks ago. Several homes were destroyed. Many businesses experienced property damage and loss. The high school lost its library and gymnasium. Westwood is still struggling to pick up the pieces and that’s where we come in. Initially, Westwood High cancelled their annual football game with us and I know you were all disappointed about that, but Coach Harker got together with Coach Sands from Central High to loan the Westwood team what equipment they need and now they’ve agreed to come.”
A cheer went up at this announcement. The rivalry game between the Sleepyside Stallions and the Westwood Hornets was a tradition that went back many years and was considered a highlight of the football season.
Brian smiled and nodded. “This presents us with the perfect opportunity to extend a helping hand. The game is in two and a half weeks. It doesn’t give us a lot of time, but if we work together, I’m sure we can pull it off. To start, we’re organizing a chili cook-off to be held in the parking lot before the game. This will serve two functions. The first is to allow us to provide a free meal for the visiting team and their fans. Second, there will be a ten dollar fee to enter the cook-off, and all money collected will be donated to the funds to help rebuild Westwood. We’d like to have two categories for the cook-off. One will be for professional cooks and chefs. The other is for amateurs. For the professionals, the grand prize will be a dinner for two and night’s stay at the Glen Road Inn, so the winner can relax and have someone else do the cooking for once. And to encourage Sleepyside amateur cooks to sign up, the Schuman Brothers grocery store will be awarding a fifty-dollar gift certificate to the winning chef. We'll need several students to sign up to be on the cook-off committee. Our student council vice president, Melissa Abbott, has volunteered to head the committee, so if you’re interested in helping, see her.”
Brian paused and stepped back to allow Melissa a moment to stand and wave to the other students. “I’ve got a sign-up sheet right here,” she called out, holding up a clip board. “And if I don’t get enough volunteers, I will start conscripting people!”
Laughter met this declaration. Melissa had a reputation for organizing and corralling students into all kinds of groups and projects.
“I think I might sign up for that,” Diana said, glancing at her friends. “If nothing else, I could help paint signs and serve the chili.”
“We could all sign up as a Bob-White project,” Trixie suggested. “We came today looking for ways to help, and this is certainly one of them. And we should get Moms to enter the amateur competition.” Helen Belden, affectionately known as “Moms,” was a cook of some renown.
“We should,” Di concurred with a smile. “She could win it easily. Your mother makes wonderful chili. Not too spicy, but not too plain, either. I especially like it when she adds the shredded cheese on top.”
Brian stepped forward again, reclaiming their attention. “In addition to the cook-off, we’re looking to collect donations of all kinds. Westwood needs just about everything - clothes, food, toys, books. Almost anything you can think of. We’d like to surprise Westwood at the game by having some of our own buses filled with donations to follow them home that night. Again, this is going to take some hard work and we’ll need a separate committee in charge. Jim Frayne has volunteered to lead this one.”
Jim rose, grinning. “I’ve got a sign-up sheet, too,” he said, waving his clip board. “And consider this me issuing the same threat – I mean invitation to volunteer that Melissa just gave you.”
Mart shook his head, chuckling. “If Jim’s leading this committee, I suppose that means we should consider ourselves already signed up.” He sent his sister a teasing glance. “At least we know someone who will have her name on the list.”
Trixie felt a blush stain her freckled cheeks. It was no real secret that she admired Honey’s red-headed brother. She lifted her chin, refusing to take the bait. “It’s a worthy cause,” she said stiffly. “I see no reason why we can’t help with both committees, if we want to. We could divide up the work. You, Di, and Dan could be on the chili committee, and Honey and I can join Jim for the donations. I think Brian will be busy enough with the overall organization tasks.”
“What are you volun-telling me for now, Trix?” an amused voice asked from behind.
They turned to see Dan standing behind them. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt and his red Bob-Whites jacket. His grin was wide and friendly. Looking up at him, Trixie was struck again by the vast change in Dan from surly ex-gang member to relaxed, happy teen.
“There’s going to be a chili cook-off,” Honey explained. “And donations on buses.”
“And the football game isn’t cancelled after all, so we don’t have much time,” Trixie told him.
Dan blinked, then looked over at Mart. “Was that an answer to my question? Because I don’t really feel like I got an actual answer.”
Honey giggled and slid closer to Diana, patting a small space at her side. “Here. Sit down and we’ll wait for the end of the assembly to catch you up. For now, just think chili.”
Brian made a few more general announcements, then finished with again encouraging the students to sign up for the different committees. As the meeting broke up, most of the students surged toward the stage, looking to put their names down to help.
“Ugh,” Di murmured. “Maybe we should just sit here and wait for the worst of the crowd to clear out?”
“Sounds good to me,” Trixie said. “I’m glad to see such long lines of volunteers forming, but that doesn’t mean I want to stand in them.”
Mart stood and picked up his backpack. “I need to stop by the library before we leave,” he said. “I have to choose a biography to read for English. Trix, you can go ahead and sign me up for the chili cook-off committee.”
“Oh!” Di exclaimed. “Do you mind if I tag along? I’ve got a history paper to write on the Napoleonic Wars and I need to do some research. At this point, all I know is they had nothing to do with ice cream.”
For a moment, blank confusion met this announcement, then Honey slowly smiled. “Did you get Napoleonic confused with Neapolitan?” she asked.
Di winced and nodded. “Yes,” she admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “But at least I only said something to Ruthie Kettner. It would’ve been far worse if I’d spoken up in front of the entire class.”
“Well, come along then,” Mart said grandly, “and I will assist you in locating the proper reading materials.”
As the two left the cafeteria, Trixie turned to Dan. “Well, this will give us a chance to tell you what you missed,” she began.
“Actually,” Dan said with a small frown, “this will give me a chance to talk to you. I’ve been hoping to speak with you and Honey alone for the past couple of days.”
Trixie’s brows shot up. “What’s up?” she demanded, regarding him with sudden, keen interest.
“It’s about Uncle Bill,” he replied. “Something is going on with him, but I don’t know what. He’s been acting very… mysteriously. He’s been gone a couple of times I’ve gone to see him, but he won’t tell me where. Just says he’s been running errands.”
Trixie and Honey exchanged quick glances. Anything mysterious always had their attention. With help from the other Bob-Whites, the girls had solved a series of unusual mysteries and puzzles that had come their way. It was their plan to open a detective agency once they were finished with school, and any chance to hone their skills as private investigators was welcomed.
“But you think it’s something more?” Trixie pressed. “Do you think he might actually disappear again?”
Not too long before, William Regan had vanished with no word beyond a cryptic letter to his nephew, seeking to clear his name from accusations of a crime he had not committed. Trixie and Honey tracked him down and the case was solved. Regan returned to Sleepyside and the Bob-Whites hoped it was for good. A great friend to them all, they didn’t want to see him leave again.
“I don’t know what he might do!” Dan said, clearly frustrated. “I asked him, but you know how he is. He told me nothing was wrong and not to worry.”
“Maybe that’s the truth,” Honey suggested gently. “He’s been awfully busy lately, you know. We haven’t been able to help out in the stable as much since school started up.”
Dan huffed out a breath. “Maybe so. I hope so. Still, I’m worried. I can’t help it.”
Trixie sent him a sympathetic look. Regan was Dan’s only living relative. It was natural that he’d worry about him and be concerned if he thought there was something wrong. “By the time we get home today, it will be too late to go for a ride,” she said, “and tomorrow we Beldens are promised to help set up tables at the civic hall for Moms’ garden club show this weekend. But what about Friday? We could all meet at the stable and then maybe figure out what, if anything, is bothering Regan.”
Dan nodded gratefully. “Thanks. Yeah. That sounds like a plan. And if I’m overacting, feel free to tell me so, but I feel it in my bones. Something is up.”
“Well,” Trixie murmured lightly, hoping to set her friend’s mind at ease, “if something is up, we’ll just have to get to the bottom of it.”
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