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Susie.”
    Dan perked up, but he still thrust out his lip.
    He’s no clown, anyway.”
    “What’s wrong with being the down?” Mart asked.
    “Yeah,” Brian added. “The clown horse is always the hit of the whole show. Any well-trained horse can go through all the paces: walking, trotting, galloping, cantering, even jumping. It takes a real star to clown.”
    “Brian s right,” Honey said. “But Spartan doesn’t have to be a clown to do his dance. He would look cute, though, dressed up....”
    “With a tutu around his tummy,” Trixie added excitedly, “and a wreath of flowers on his head.”
    “Spartan s no girl horse, Trixie,” Dan said and kicked the gravel in disgust. “I’d rather he’d be the clown than that. He does kinda like the limelight, and if you think it would add to the show....”
    “It’ll make the show.” Regan s face lit up. “Will you do it, Dan?”
    Dan nodded. “If Spartan will.”
    “Then let’s get on with the jumping,” Regan said. “Trixie, bring Susie in from the pasture and saddle her. Jupiter’s the only horse I kept in the stable this morning. Jim will have to let him run for a while before he saddles him. He’s too high-spirited right now.”
    Humming “The Blue Danube,” Dan tied Spartan in one of the stalls and went out to the pasture to help Regan set up the jumps.
    The other Bob-Whites scattered. Diana intended only to watch the practice, because Sunny was not a jumper. There were only three other palominos in the county, and all they would do in the show would be to march and look beautiful.
    Trixie climbed over the pasture fence and snapped her fingers to call Susie. The little black mare cantered over to take the carrot Trixie held out to her. When she had crunched it juicily, she sniffed at the pocket where it had been hidden and bumped Trixie lovingly with her nose, wanting more.
    Something deep within Trixie stirred as she ran her hand lovingly down Susie’s neck and put her face close to the little mare’s cheek.
    She had always 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