Mystery Ride (6 page)

“Some ponies have big hooves,” Carole said. “Especially ponies that are used in rough terrain. It makes them more surefooted.”

“Do you remember what kind of shoes Nickel had?” Stevie asked.

Lisa shook her head. “I’ve been trying and trying to remember. But I was such a beginner I didn’t notice things like that.”

“It’s a relief your memory isn’t perfect,” Stevie said. Lisa’s great memory was one of the reasons that she got straight A’s in school.

Stevie and Lisa looked at Carole. She was a human encyclopedia where horses were concerned.

“I don’t know if Nickel wears barred shoes,” Carole said. “When I came to Pine Hollow, I already knew how to ride, so I never rode the lesson ponies.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Stevie announced.

“Oh, boy,” Lisa sighed.

“This is a practical idea,” Stevie said. “If none of the other Pine Hollow horses has bar shoes, then the prints must be Nickel’s.”

“Other horses use those trails,” Carole said.

“But these prints were fresh, and we didn’t see any other riders. It’s late in the fall, so the trails are pretty empty,” Stevie said. “Here’s my idea. I think you’re going to like it. What we do is …”

M
AX APPEARED AT
the head of the stairs carrying a saddle and a bridle, a bucket, and a box with two sponges, a chamois cloth, and a tin of glycerine saddle soap. “Time for a tack cleaning demonstration,” he said.

There was a chorus of sighs because all the groups had been deep into planning strategies for the next day.

“A saddle lasts forever only if you take care of it,” Max said. “Leather cracks unless it’s kept pliable.”

Everyone knew that was true, so the riders crowded around Max. Even expert riders such as Carole and Stevie knew that there was always more to learn about taking care of tack.

Max placed the saddle on a wooden saddle horse and removed the girth, stirrup leathers, and irons. He turned the saddle over and rubbed the dirt and dried sweat from the leather lining. Then he held the saddle pommel down over the bucket and washed it. When he was done, he dried the lining with a chamois cloth and applied saddle soap. He put the saddle back on the saddle horse, then washed the seat and flaps and dried them.

“Make sure you remove all the jockeys,” Max said, pointing to the black greasy marks that had accumulated on the saddle.

Max dried the saddle and then sponged soap into the seat and flaps.

“Don’t hold back,” Max said. “It never pays to be stingy with the soap.”

He dried the saddle to a deep glossy shine, and used polish to clean the metalwork.

The riders murmured with admiration. Not only did the saddle look good, it smelled good. They knew it would feel good next time it was used.

Max held up the bridle he’d brought and said, “Can anyone tell me the part of bridle cleaning that’s most often forgotten?”

“Washing the curb chain?” said May.

“That’s very good,” Max said. “But there’s something else that’s even more frequently forgotten.”

Carole raised her hand, and Max grinned at her.

“Polishing the metalwork?” she said.

“That’s good, too,” Max said. “But there’s something else.” Nobody knew, so Max explained. “Polishing the underside of the leather. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not important. Both sides of the leather have to be soft and pliable. Now, who’s going to polish this bridle for me?”

May and Corey volunteered, and Max congratulated them on doing a meticulous job.

Afterward came a round of Pin the Tail on the Pony in which A.J. managed to pin the tail to the soft-drink cooler and Veronica managed to pin it on her hair dryer. Then everyone trooped downstairs to check the horses before they went to sleep.

When the riders were back in the loft, Deborah turned off the lights, held a flashlight under her chin, and told a ghost story. Because Deborah was an investigative reporter, she had a gift for making things seem real—and scary. Some of the younger riders got a definite case of the creeps.

Then it was time to sleep. The riders climbed into their sleeping bags, the boys on the left side of the loft, the girls
on the right. Deborah was about to turn out the lights when Veronica said, “Not so fast.”

“Now what?” said Deborah with a sigh.

“I’m not going to wake up looking like a creep,” Veronica said. “Even if other people are.” She gave Stevie a significant look.

And then, to everyone’s amazement, Veronica sat down at her portable dressing table and proceeded to comb setting gel through her hair.

“I don’t believe this,” Stevie muttered. “It’s going to give the little kids nightmares.”

Veronica talked while she combed her hair. “Many people might be discouraged by the fact that there are no shower facilities at Pine Hollow, but to me this is a challenge. If there’s no water, I simply use gel.” By this time Veronica’s hair was shiny with gunk.

“You decided to slime yourself,” Stevie said. “If I were you, Veronica, I’d slime myself, too.”

The younger riders collapsed in giggles. Deborah, seeing that things were getting out of hand, said, “Make it fast, Veronica.”

Undaunted, Veronica continued her lecture. “First you section your hair,” she said, poking bobby pins into each hank. “Then you take the first section …” She combed a hank of hair straight up.

“The porcupine look is very big,” Stevie said. “The boy porcupines will be nuts for you.” Veronica was a well-known flirt.

Amie laughed so hard she started hiccuping.

“I’m giving you one minute, Veronica,” said Deborah. “After that it’s lights out.”

“… and then you roll it,” Veronica said, twisting the gooey hair onto a roller the size of a hot-dog bun. She finished putting the rest of her hair onto the giant rollers and then turned to look at the other riders.

“I know it looks hard,” Veronica said, “but with practice and discipline you can master it, too.”

“You look like a Martian,” May said.

Stevie, Lisa, and Carole exchanged grins. This was the first time May had been cheerful all day. In her own obnoxious way Veronica had been helpful.

Veronica stood up grandly, as if she were a movie star on Oscar night. “In the morning you’ll see what I mean,” she said.

“And that’s it,” Deborah said. “Riders, get in your sleeping bags. Now I want everyone to go to sleep.”

That was easier said than done. The younger riders were so excited by Veronica’s strange demonstration that they couldn’t stop giggling and whispering.

“If you don’t get a good night’s sleep, you won’t be able to find clues in the morning,” Deborah said.

That did it. The younger riders subsided. Soon the sound of peaceful breathing filled the loft.

The Saddle Club, however, was wide awake.

“Could you snore a little more softly?” Carole whispered to Stevie.

“The building is shaking,” Lisa whispered.

Stevie realized that she might have been overdoing the sound effects, so she stepped her snore down to a low buzz, and then to a hum.

When the breathing of the other riders was totally steady, Lisa, Carole, and Stevie crept out of their sleeping bags and over to the stairs. On the ledge next to the stairs was Deborah’s flashlight. Stevie shoved it under her sweatshirt and crept softly down the stairs.

“Unnnnh!” came a muffled sound from behind her. Stevie looked back to see Carole hobbling.

“I never realized hay bales were so hard,” Carole hissed. She had tripped over one of the bales in the feed room.

Lisa crept after them, a sweater over her flannel pajamas. They tiptoed past the locked tack room.

The air in the barn was warm and steamy. At the far end of the aisle a horse snorted. Another horse was doing something that sounded a lot like snoring.

Patch was in the first stall. They couldn’t just pick up one of his hooves and look at the shoe—it might have frightened him and caused him to lash out. Lisa knew Patch best, because she had occasionally ridden him when she was a beginner, so she walked to his head and said, “I hate to do this to you, Patch.”

Through his long eyelashes, the black-and-white pinto stared sleepily at her. Slowly Lisa ran her hand down his leg to his chestnut, the little patch of hairless skin that all horses have on the inside of their legs. She squeezed it gently, and he lifted his foot. Lisa shone the flashlight on Patch’s hoof.

“Normal shoe,” Lisa whispered.

Patch snorted, and Lisa let go of his foot. Patch gave a long, snorting rumble as he settled back into sleep.

Comanche was in the next stall. Stevie knew him best. She also knew that Comanche had a strong sense of pride and could get riled very easily. “Hoof check,” Stevie said sternly as she moved toward his head.

Comanche turned and yawned in her face. He had, Stevie thought, the largest teeth she’d ever seen, and his gums were pretty big, too. Stevie grinned back. She ran a hand down his leg, and without a fuss Comanche lifted his foot.

“Normal shoe,” Stevie whispered.

In the next stall Bodoni was asleep on his side. “Hey, pal,” Carole whispered. Bodoni snorted and fell deeper into sleep.

“Just like my father,” giggled Carole. “The more you try to wake him, the harder he sleeps. In fact, he’s an all-around champion sleeper.”

“Show time,” Stevie whispered to Bodoni. Bodoni blinked. He was a championship horse and loved to compete. “We’re having a hoof beauty contest.”

Amazingly enough, Bodoni got to his feet. Carole walked in to greet him. She tapped him on the knee, and Bodoni raised his foot.

“Ordinary shoe,” Carole said.

“This could take forever,” Stevie said with a groan.

As they worked their way down the stalls, Carole thought that it was a lot like being a camp counselor. The horses were either grumpy, sleepy, or irritated. Checking their hooves required a lot of patience.

Finally they finished. None of the horses in the stable had barred shoes.

“So now we know it was Nickel,” Stevie said.

Lisa looked unhappy. “Not exactly. What about the guest horses? We need to check them, too.”

“And we don’t even know them,” Stevie said. “They’re not going to like this.”

They walked back to the stable door and pushed it open. It gave a loud creak.

“Oh, no,” Stevie whispered.

A light appeared on the boys’ side of the loft, and A.J.’s red hair appeared at the window.

“What’s going on?” he said.

Lisa, Carole, and Stevie were silent for a long moment.

“Nothing much,” Lisa finally said.

“It must be something,” A.J. said.

Stevie looked around quickly, desperate for an excuse. “We’re … admiring the moonlight,” she said. “It’s so great!” Actually it was an ordinary half-moon.

“Hey, I love moonlight. I’ll be right down,” A.J. said.

The three girls looked at each other in dismay. “Of all people,” Lisa said. A.J. was known for his chattiness—and his inquisitiveness.

Seconds later A.J. appeared in the doorway in a gray sweater. “This is fantastic,” he whispered. “All my life I’ve been looking for people who are as crazy about moonlight as I am.”

Stevie rolled her eyes.

“Just look at that ring around the moon,” he said. “Isn’t it fantastic?”

“Unbelievable,” Lisa said.

“You can really see the seas on the moon,” A.J. went on. “They’re not real seas, of course. They’re filled with dust. But they’re called
mare
, which is Latin for ‘sea.’ ”

Carole yawned.

“I guess the excitement of the moonlight has worn you out,” A.J. said.

“It’s a killer,” Carole said. “Really draining.”

“Have you guys made; progress on the mystery?” he asked. “I’m not asking for clues or anything, just a general progress report.”

Lisa let loose with a yawn so large her jaw ached. “You know what?” she said. “I think I’ve had enough moonlight.”

“Me too,” said Carole. “It’s not good to have too much at one time.”

“You guys are wimps,” A.J. said cheerfully. “I’ll be out here watching the moonlight for hours.”

“Tell us about it in the morning,” Stevie said as she stumbled toward the stairs.

“A.J.’s a little strange,” Carole whispered as they crept up to the loft.

“And he’s Phil’s best friend,” Stevie whispered. “It kind of makes you wonder.”

As Stevie snuggled back into her sleeping bag, she
thought that her plan hadn’t been a total success, but it hadn’t been a total failure, either. They hadn’t gotten a chance to check the guest horses, but at least they knew that none of the Pine Hollow horses was wearing barred shoes.