Horse Race (12 page)

“Okay, let’s go,” Stevie whispered. She led the way toward the jockey’s table.

It took him a moment to notice them. Finally he looked up from his paper, squinting as if trying to recall where he’d seen them before.

“Hi, Mack,” Stevie said, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him. “Remember us?”

The jockey looked nervous for a moment. Then his expression cleared. “Oh, you’re those girls who were helping Toby, right?” he said. He watched warily as Carole and Lisa sat down on either side of Stevie. “What are you doing here?”

“We just want to talk to you for a minute,” Carole said. “We were curious about something.”

“Yes?” Mack still looked suspicious and a little worried.

Carole glanced at her friends for support. Stevie smiled encouragingly. “We heard something about a horse you’re riding today,” Carole said. “Leprechaun. We heard she has an unusual phobia about being whipped, and we were wondering if it was true.”

Mack looked more nervous than ever. But he just shrugged. “That’s what they tell me,” he said. “I’ve never raced her before, so I couldn’t tell you for sure.” He took a big bite of his chili dog.

Stevie decided it was time for her to take over the questioning. Carole was being a little too subtle, and they didn’t have much time. “Look,” she said, leaning forward on her elbows so that her face was close to the little man’s. “We know all about what Garvey’s trying to pull today. And we saw him give you that money, so we know you’re planning to go along with him.”

Mack swallowed his food and raised the chili dog for another bite. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered.

“Please,” Lisa said. “We don’t need you to confess or anything.
We just want you to think about what you’re doing. Don’t you care about making it a fair race? Don’t you want Leprechaun to have the chance to do her best? She could be hurt, you know—or worse. And she could hurt the other horses and riders in the race.”

The jockey frowned, and for a second his eyes seemed sad. Then the expression vanished and his face was a complete blank. Staring at the girls, he slowly picked up his chili dog and shoved the rest of it into his mouth. Then he grabbed his newspaper, stood up, and hurried away.

Stevie stood as if to follow, but Lisa stopped her. “Forget it,” she said dejectedly. “We did what we could. If he’s still determined to cheat, there’s nothing else we can do to stop him.”

“Sure there is,” Stevie said heatedly. “We could go to the stewards and tell them what we know. Maybe they can make Garvey confess, or get Mack to turn in his whip before he rides—”

“I don’t think so,” Carole broke in. “The stewards aren’t going to believe us. It’s a pretty wild story, if you think about it. I can hardly believe it myself. Besides, there’s not enough time. The first race will be starting any minute.” She sighed. “We’ll just have to cross our fingers and hope that Mack thinks about what we said and decides to do the right thing.”

Lisa crossed her fingers and smiled. “Does this make us superstitious racetrackers?” she asked, holding up her hand.

“I don’t know,” Stevie said. She crossed her fingers, too. “But we need all the luck we can get—racing or otherwise. Come on, let’s grab some food and go watch the race.”

A
FEW MINUTES
later the girls were at the grandstand rail gobbling down hot dogs and sodas. The post parade had just started, but they hardly saw the horses prancing by in front of them as they continued to talk about Garvey and Mack.

“Maybe our little talk will scare him out of doing it,” Stevie said hopefully, licking mustard off her fingers. “He might be afraid we’ll go to the stewards with what we know after the race. They’d have to listen to us then, wouldn’t they?”

“Maybe,” Lisa said, looking doubtful. “But if he and Garvey both deny the whole thing, what can they do? There’s no evidence.”

“What about the money?” Carole asked.

Lisa shrugged. “Garvey may be crooked, but he’s not stupid,” she said. “He paid Mack in cash, remember? And I don’t think there was any writing on the envelope. I doubt there’s any way to trace that money back to him.”

Just then something made Carole turn around and glance behind her. Josh A was standing a few yards away, and she was pretty sure he had been looking at her. But as soon as she turned, he whirled around and hurried away. Carole frowned, feeling worse than ever about brushing him off earlier.

“I think I’ve lost one of my admirers,” she said, telling her friends what she had just seen.

Stevie shrugged. “One down and two to go.” She gave Carole a close look. “Unless you’ve actually started to like one of them, that is,” she added.

“No, not really,” Carole said. “I mean, I don’t know any of them well enough to know whether I like them.” She sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I want them to hate me, either.”

They all stopped talking and watched the horses finish warming up and then take their places in the starting gate. With a clang of the starter’s bell, they were off.

For a moment, the girls were caught up in the excitement of the race. They cheered as a speedy little roan colt battled for the lead with a rangy bay. But by the time the roan was posing for his picture in the winner’s circle, The Saddle Club’s attention had turned to the next race.

“Should we go down to the paddock and watch C.C. get saddled?” Carole asked.

Lisa shuddered. “No way,” she said. “Don’t forget who’s doing the saddling.”

“Oh yeah.” Carole had forgotten that trainers accompanied their horses to the paddock. “Let’s stay here.”

“I have a better idea,” Stevie said. “Let’s look for Deborah.”

Lisa’s expression brightened. “You know, I almost forgot about her. She should be back by now,” she said. “Maybe there’s still time to stop Mack before the race.”

The girls split up so they could search a larger area. But when they met again at the same spot by the rail fifteen minutes later, none of them had found her.

“Maybe she got held up at one of the farms,” Lisa said, leaning on the rail dejectedly.

Carole nodded. “Or she might be down in the paddock with Garvey and the other trainers.”

At that moment the horses were called onto the track for the second race. The girls turned and watched as the horses started stepping through the gap.

“The moment of truth,” Stevie muttered, watching for Cookie Cutter.

The chestnut filly was fourth in line, three spaces ahead of Leprechaun. Like the rest of the jockeys, Toby and Mack were now dressed in colorful silks.

“Did you know that jockeys’ silks really used to be made of silk?” Carole commented aimlessly. “Now they’re mostly nylon, I think.”

Her friends didn’t bother to answer.

Lisa rested her chin on her arm, watching the horses walk past the grandstand and then turn and head for the starting gate on the far side of the track. Some trotted to warm up, others cantered or galloped. Cookie Cutter seemed to be frisky and ready to run. So did Leprechaun. Would they both have a chance to do their best? Lisa hoped so. She crossed her fingers again, then glanced at her friends. Both of them had their fingers crossed on both hands.

Stevie took her eyes off the horses long enough to squint
at the huge tote board in the middle of the track, trying to figure out what the information on it meant. “Look,” she said. “C.C. and Leprechaun have the same odds. I think.”

Lisa looked, too. “I think you’re right,” she said. The number four was posted beside each of the fillies’ numbers. “I think that means their odds are four to one, right? So people must think they both have a good chance to win.”

Carole just shrugged. She wasn’t interested in the odds. All she was interested in was a safe and fair race. “What if Leprechaun bolts when he hits her and runs into other horses?” she commented worriedly. “That could cause a bad accident, especially if she’s in the lead when she does it.”

Stevie didn’t hear her. She was too busy eavesdropping on a young couple standing nearby. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. “That woman just bet ten dollars on Leprechaun to place.” That meant the woman would collect money if Leprechaun came in first or second in the race.

“I hope she wins that bet,” Lisa said grimly.

Soon the horses started entering the starting gate. They looked small and distant across the expanse of the infield, but The Saddle Club could recognize Cookie Cutter easily by her bright chestnut coat and Toby’s colorful silks.

Lisa gripped the rail, feeling the excitement of race time wash over her despite her worry. This was Cookie Cutter’s big debut, and she looked ready for it. The filly stepped daintily into the metal starting box, and a moment later all
the other horses were in, too. Lisa held her breath and waited for the starter’s bell.

“And they’re off!” the announcer cried a second later as the horses broke from the gate as a group, pounding forward down the track. It took a moment for Lisa to locate Cookie Cutter among the other horses, but then she saw her. She was near the middle of the pack, right next to Leprechaun.

For the first few furlongs they both stayed right there. Lisa kept her eyes on the chestnut filly, not bothering to pay attention to the three horses that were trading the lead back and forth at the front.

Just as the horses reached the beginning of the wide turn, Cookie Cutter started to move up. She passed one horse after another, and at the middle of the turn she dove between two other horses to take the lead. “Look! Look!” Lisa squealed, jumping up and down. “She’s winning!”

“Here comes Leprechaun,” Stevie shouted, pointing.

Lisa took her eyes off Cookie Cutter and saw that the gray filly had also pulled ahead of the other horses to challenge her rival.

“Hey, they both did lead changes right there,” Carole commented as the two fillies swept out of the turn and started down the homestretch.

Lisa hardly heard her. She was cheering loudly as Cookie Cutter bravely held off Leprechaun’s challenge for several strides. But Leprechaun kept coming, and after a moment
she began to gain on the chestnut. A few more strides, and she was a nose in front, and then a full head.

Her heart in her throat, Lisa watched Mack, who was no more than a blur of silks crouched on the horse’s back. The time had come. If he was going to throw the race by whipping Leprechaun, this was the time to do it. There were less than two furlongs to go until the finish line.

The next few seconds seemed to pass very slowly indeed, at least to The Saddle Club. Without looking at each other, each girl knew that the others were holding their breath and crossing their fingers.

Finally, as Cookie Cutter battled back to within a nose of her competitor, Mack made his move. But he didn’t reach for his whip. Instead, he started rocking back and forth, his hands seeming to push the horse’s head forward with every stride.

Lisa heard Carole gasp beside her. “He’s hand-riding her,” she exclaimed. “He’s not going for the whip. He’s trying to win!”

All three girls started cheering loudly. At first Lisa wasn’t sure if she was cheering for the sweating, straining horses on the track or for the jockey who had decided to do what was right. But by the time the finish line loomed, she was definitely cheering for Cookie Cutter. Stride by stride, the chestnut filly was regaining the ground she had lost to Leprechaun. Soon they were neck and neck. Then Cookie Cutter pulled ahead once again. By the time the two flashed
under the wire, the brave chestnut was almost half a length in front. Leprechaun was second, more than three lengths in front of the rest of the field.

“She won!” the three girls cried in one voice. They hugged each other gleefully, then let out another loud cheer. It felt very good, and Lisa knew why. Cookie Cutter had won the race fair and square.

“T
HAT WAS GREAT
,” Carole said as they watched Cookie Cutter walk back along the track toward the winner’s circle. But her friends noticed she wasn’t smiling anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked.

Carole sighed. “It’s great that Mack decided not to help Garvey cheat,” she said. “But it means we really have no way of proving that Garvey did anything wrong. And that means he might do something rotten another time—and get away with it.”

Stevie pointed toward the winner’s circle. “Speak of the devil,” she said.

The others looked and saw that Garvey was standing near the winner’s circle, waiting for Cookie Cutter. He was smiling, but even at this distance Stevie thought his expression looked rather forced. “Even though C.C. won the race, I bet
he’s seething because Mack didn’t do what he wanted,” she said.

Lisa nodded, but Carole didn’t respond. She was staring down the rail. “Carole?” Stevie said. She turned to see what her friend was looking at and saw Josh A waiting for Leprechaun at the gap. “Oh.”

“I guess he gets to lead her back for unsaddling, too,” Carole said. She sighed. “I still feel bad about cutting him off before when he was so excited.”

“I feel worse about letting Garvey get away with what he did—or what he tried to do, that is,” Stevie said, returning her attention to the winner’s circle. There had to be something they could do to prove what Garvey was really like. One option was to find Deborah, tell her everything, and hope that she could help them convince the stewards or Mr. McLeod that the assistant trainer was up to no good. But that plan seemed a little too chancy for Stevie’s taste. She was sure she could come up with something better if she just put her mind to it …