The Black Jacket Mystery

Trixie staggered up, breathless.
    The high-school bus was just coming around the comer into Glen Road, and Bobby’s grade-school bus had already left with Bobby safely aboard.
    “Whew! I made it!” Trixie announced between gasps. She knew better than to thank Mart in front of their friends for taking Bobby to the bus for her. Mart would have been embarrassed. He always tried to “play it cool,” as he called it. She decided to save her thanks till they were alone.
    Honey was taller and slimmer than Trixie, although they were practically the same age. Her shoulder-length light brown hair and her soft hazel eyes had brought her the nickname of Honey. Everyone used it because it fitted her so well.
    Honey’s father was a millionaire. Their Manor House estate, that touched the borders of the Beldens’ small Crabapple Farm, was a huge one. It had stood empty for several years before the Wheelers had bought it and moved in the previous summer. Mr. Wheeler had had the underbrush cleared off, a private game preserve established for hunting, and the mansion itself redecorated. His stables, in the charge of Bill Regan as head groom, held the finest of saddle horses.
    Honey, an only child, had been lonely till they moved into Manor House. Her parents were often away from home, and she had been practically brought up by servants.
    But after she and Trixie had met and become friends at once, all had changed. They had had several exciting adventures together, during one of which they had helped Jim Frayne escape a cruel stepfather. Now adopted by the Wheelers, fifteen-year-old Jim was everything that Honey had dreamed a big brother could be.
    Trixie’s two older brothers and Jim Frayne were all members of the Bob-Whites of the Glen, the secret club that the girls had thought up last fall.
    “Did you manage to think of any way the B.W.G.’s can find more books for the San Isidro school?” Honey asked as the bus drew up and stopped for them.
    “Sort of,” Trixie admitted. “But it’s still only a glimmer. It could be fabulous if we can work it out!”
    “Here she goes again, straight into orbit!” Mart sang out and groaned loudly.
    Jim chuckled. “It’s been much too quiet since the antique-sale excitement died down. I felt we were due for a launching soon!”
    “Let’s sit by ourselves,” Trixie whispered hastily and led the way to the empty rear of the bus. The B.W.G.’s always had their choice of seats because most of the other pupils of Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School lived closer to town than they did.
    Mart promptly followed his sister and Honey up the aisle and Jim went along with a mischievous smile. They plumped down in the seat ahead of the two girls, so they wouldn’t miss a word.
    Trixie shielded her mouth with her hand as she leaned close to Honey. “I thought maybe we could have an ice carnival on your lake the end of this month. You know, before the ice starts to melt,” she
    whispered. “A benefit show!”
    “Marvelousl” Honey whispered. “Go on!”
    Trixie was so excited as the thoughts started racing through her brain that she forgot to whisper, and her voice rose sharply, “We’ll have games and skating races and we’ll give away prizes—”
    Mart’s voice came from the seat ahead. “Our esteemed treasurer will love the part about prizes,” it said loudly, “considering the irrefutable fact that the club treasury is now practically empty. Madam President seems to have taken no cognizance of the fact.” Mart liked to try to puzzle Trixie by using big words he was certain she wouldn’t understand. Usually he succeeded, but this time Trixie only gave a disdainful but unladylike snort and resumed her whispered conversation with Honey.
    Brian, Trixie’s sixteen-year-old brother, was club treasurer. He was a senior at Sleepyside, having skipped a grade, and was getting ready to go to college next year to start studying to become a doctor. Brian was tall like his father and had the same dark good looks. Between his schoolwork and the chores he did, both at home and helping with the Wheeler horses, he was always busy. His day started early and ended late, but he always kept some time for the Bob-Whites along the way.
    “Have you tried out your latest brainstorm on our big brother?” Mart interrupted to ask.
    “I haven’t seen Brian today, but I’m sure he’ll think of something helpful,” Trixie told him coolly. “He always does.” She paused pointedly and then added