The Mystery of Misty Canyon

by Carolyn Keene

  Grinning, Sam teased, “You must’ve cheated.”

  His wife, Ellen, shook her head, and her dark hair gleamed. “Nope. I watched. She won fair and square.”

  “How about a rematch?” Sam asked.

  “Maybe later.” Bess flashed a dimpled grin.

  “I don’t suppose you mentioned to Sam that you were the sixth-grade champion checkers player at River Heights Elementary?” George asked dryly.

  “He didn’t ask,” Bess said.

  George groaned.

  Bess started for the kitchen. “Peggy has some hot chocolate for you,” she said, motioning for her friends to follow. “Come on. I want to hear all about how you found Tammy.”

  While sipping cocoa, Nancy and George filled Bess in on the details. “What do you suppose spooked Twister?” Bess asked when she heard about the accident.

  “I don’t know.” Nancy swirled cocoa in her cup.

  “Nancy’s starting to smell a mystery,” George said.

  “I knew it!” Bess said. “I saw that gleam in your eye last night, Nancy Drew!”

  Nancy shrugged. “You have to admit, some pretty odd things have happened lately. Even Tammy thinks so.” She told Bess about the conversation between Rob Majors and Vern Landon.

  After finishing their cocoa, the friends headed upstairs. Bess and George headed for their room, and Nancy knocked softly on Tammy’s door. It swung open. Tammy was in her nightgown and sitting up in bed.

  “What did the doctor say?” Nancy asked as Tammy waved her inside the pine-paneled room.

  “Nothing good. He wants me to take it easy for a few days.” Tammy frowned. “That’s impossible! I’ve got to get in shape for the rodeo. It’s my only chance to save the ranch!”

  “I’m sure you’ll be on your feet in no time and can start training again,” Nancy said encouragingly as she shut the door behind her.

  Tammy grinned a bit. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Sure I am. From what you tell me about Twister, the two of you are unbeatable!”

  Tammy laughed. “Don’t let Stella Baines hear you say that!”

  A board creaked in the hallway outside, and Nancy looked over her shoulder toward the door. No one knocked. Nancy turned to Tammy again, then heard the sound of a boot scuffing the floor outside the bedroom door. Was someone trying to eavesdrop on their conversation?

  “Nancy?” Tammy said as Nancy silently crossed the room and put a finger to her lips.

  She yanked hard on the door. It swung open. But the hallway was empty.

  “What’s going on?” Tammy asked.

  That’s what I’d like to know, Nancy thought, but she didn’t tell her worries to Tammy. “Nothing, I guess,” Nancy said, her gaze sweeping in both directions down the hall. She could hear noises from the other rooms in the upper story as guests moved about. “Are all the rooms in this wing occupied?”

  Tammy thought for a minute. “Most,” she said. “But I think the room across from yours is vacant. Why?”

  “I thought I heard someone out there,” Nancy said, then smiled. “Just a little while ago, George and Bess accused me of trying to stir up a mystery.”

  Tammy met Nancy’s gaze boldly. “Peggy told me all about you. While you and George were out looking for me, Bess explained to Peggy that you’ve helped your father and the police with tons of cases.”

  “That might be a slight exaggeration,” Nancy said.

  “Not to hear Bess tell it. Anyway, I was hoping that you’d help me.”

  Nancy sat on the corner of the old four-poster bed. “How?”

  “I’d just like you to check out all the weird things that have been happening around here lately,” Tammy said. “I’d do it myself, but as soon as I’m out of bed, I’ve got to start practicing again.”

  “I’ll be glad to help,” Nancy offered, her pulse racing at the thought of a mystery, no matter how small.

  “It’s probably all just coincidence,” Tammy continued. “But I get the feeling that something or somebody is trying to sabotage the ranch. Crazy, huh?”

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy answered, thinking that everything seemed strange to her, too. “Now, why don’t you tell me about Twister? Do you have any idea why he’s acting up?”

  The floorboards creaked again. There was a sharp knock, and the door banged open. Nancy turned swiftly to find Hank West standing in the doorway. His face was smeared with mud, his clothes were torn, and his eyes blazed furiously.

  “I’ll tell you why he’s acting up, Nancy,” he said, all of his friendliness gone. “Because he’s a devil, just like his brother! Those two demons are tearing the stables apart, and Twister is as bad as his brother!”

  Before Tammy could respond, Hank had turned and was gone.

  Nancy followed Hank out of the room.

  “Nancy,” George called through the open door of her room. “What’s going on?”

  Nancy stopped for a moment and watched Hank disappear down the back stairs. “Hank said both Renegade and Twister were acting up. My guess is that one or both of them are tearing the stables apart.”

  “What can I do to help?” George asked.

  “Help by staying with Tammy,” Nancy said, taking off after Hank again.

  Outside, the yard was a madhouse. Ranch hands were running from the bunkhouse and stables, across the yard, and into the stallion barn.

  Nancy sprinted across the yard just as Hank West climbed into a pickup and, with the tires spraying gravel, gunned away through an open gate to the pasture beyond.

  “What’s happening?” Nancy asked.

  Mike Mathews stood near the fence, one sleeve rolled up to display an ugly purple bruise. “Renegade’s escaped,” he said tersely as he rubbed his arm. “He nailed me with one of his hooves, then kicked open his stall. Now he’s taking off for the hills!”

  Jimmy Robbins and another young hand jumped into the jeep and took off after Hank. Nancy didn’t wait. She ran into the tack room, grabbed a bridle, and vaulted a nearby fence. The trail horses stood restlessly near a stand of oak, their ears pricked toward the chaotic noise.

  General H’s tawny coat was easy to spot in the moonlight. “Come on, boy,” Nancy said. The big buckskin nickered as Nancy strapped the bridle to his head. She tied him to the fence, then dashed back to the tack room for a saddle and flashlight. When the cinch was tightened, she whispered, “Let’s hope we can catch them.”

  Climbing onto the horse’s broad back, Nancy urged him across the field that Renegade had raced across. Though the black stallion had a good head start, Nancy knew that she and General H should be able to cut him off at an angle.

  She could see the headlights of the jeep and Hank’s pickup illuminating the darkness.

  Nancy’s gaze swept the fields. She saw the silhouette of Renegade running toward the hills. In the moonlight, the horse seemed ghostly, a streaking black shape against the bleached grass.

  “Come on, come on,” she urged General H, and the rangy buckskin responded.

  Fortunately, the gate was open. General H galloped through after the shadowy horse and the winking taillights.

  Renegade tore into the trees at full speed. Hank West’s truck screeched to a stop at the edge of the woods. Jimmy Robbins also slammed on his brakes.

  Nancy heard the sound of other horses behind her, as well as Hank’s rough voice. “Hey—Nancy! It’s dangerous up there! There’s a creek and ravine. Hey! Don’t you go—”

  But she didn’t listen. Bending low over General H’s shoulders, she leaned forward and pressed her knees into his sides. He disappeared into the trees, and the night closed in around them.

  Nancy searched the darkness, training her flashlight ahead. But every time she caught a glimpse of Renegade, he disappeared around a bend in the trail, leaving behind a plume of dust that clogged her throat.

  Her own horse was tiring, and Nancy almost turned around. This was the third time General H had gamely raced for her in one day. She patted his sweaty nec
k. Ahead the trees parted. Once again, she and her horse were on rolling hills of dry grass.

  The moon cast pale shadows over the land, and then Nancy caught a clear sight of Renegade. He was right ahead of her. The stallion pivoted on his hind legs and took off again at a breakneck pace.

  General H leapt forward, but not before Nancy’s breath caught in her throat. In the moonlight, she thought she saw a rider on Renegade’s gleaming back! There was something—a sparkle of something silvery in the moonlight—then nothing.

  Was her mind playing tricks on her? A rider on Renegade? But that was impossible!

  The night wind rushed at Nancy’s face. She squinted at the fleeing stallion, trying to make out the shape of a rider hunched over his powerful shoulders.

  But Renegade was galloping all out. General H stumbled. Nancy pitched forward, only to grab the saddle horn just as General H caught himself. Nancy tugged on the reins, slowing him.

  Renegade streaked across the hill. Nancy squinted hard. Was there a rider on the black stallion’s back?

  She was so caught up in trying to see a rider, she didn’t notice that the field Renegade was running across gave way to blackness. Suddenly, an uneasy sensation came over her. Why did the grass seem to disappear just beyond Renegade?

  Then she knew! The edge of the field was a cliff, and Renegade was thundering toward it!

  Heart in her throat, Nancy kicked General H, and he leapt forward. “Stop!” she cried to the fleeing stallion, but her words were lost on the wind.

  Renegade skidded as he reached the ravine, but he was going too fast and couldn’t stop.

  Nancy watched in horror as he took a flying leap and disappeared over the edge!

  5

  Bad Blood

  Nancy urged General H to the edge of the ravine and stopped. Dreading what she might see, she stared over the rim, her eyes searching the darkness.

  With relief, she saw that the cliff wasn’t too high. But the drop was sheer, and Renegade could have injured himself by jumping to the ravine floor, where a creek wound like a silver snake.

  Nancy swung to the ground and tied General H to a nearby bush. Switching on her flashlight, she scrambled down the steep embankment. She followed the course of the stream, searching for some sign of Renegade. But she could see no trace of the black stallion.

  She listened but couldn’t hear the sound of hoofbeats, either. Had Renegade splashed his way up or down the stream? Or had someone ridden him to the opposite bank to hide in the surrounding brush? She swept the pale beam of her flashlight along the far bank but saw nothing.

  Disappointed, Nancy crawled up the bank and climbed onto General H. Pondering all the strange events at the ranch, she slowly walked her mount across the field and through the woods.

  Hank West was right where she’d left him at the edge of the forest. Mike Mathews, on his horse, had joined him.

  “There you are!” Mike said, obviously relieved. “I tried to follow you but couldn’t catch up. Where’s Renegade?”

  “I lost him,” Nancy admitted. She explained how Renegade had jumped the embankment and disappeared into the night.

  “Well, we may as well give up for now,” Hank decided. “Not much more we can do until daylight.” He cast Nancy a wary glance. “Next time,” he suggested, “leave the horses to us.”

  “Tammy asked me to help,” she explained.

  Hank grumbled about know-it-all tenderfeet as he climbed into the cab of his truck. Nancy rode back to the ranch along with Mike.

  Nancy asked Mike, “Were you actually in the stables with Renegade when he escaped?”

  “No.”

  “But I thought—”

  Mike cut her off. “I said that he kicked me. I went into the washroom to check the damage. While I was there, he kicked his way out and took off.”

  “So you didn’t actually see him leave?”

  Mike eyed her curiously. “Not really.”

  “Did anyone see him in the yard?” she asked. “As he ran under the security lamps, did anyone get a good look at him?”

  “I don’t know,” Mike said with a shrug. “What’re you getting at?”

  “I just wondered if it was possible that someone may have ridden him from the stables.”

  “Renegade?” Mike laughed scornfully. “No way! Don’t you remember? He’s the horse no man can ride!”

  Nancy kept her thoughts to herself on the way back to the ranch.

  “I’ll take care of the General,” Mike offered as they rode into the yard together.

  “No need,” Nancy said quickly. “He’s my responsibility. I’ll walk and brush him, then check his feed.”

  Mike shrugged. “Have it your way,” he added. “But remember what Hank said.” Then, hearing the sounds of a horse kicking wildly, he turned toward the stallion barn. “Now what?” he asked.

  Though he didn’t ask for her help, Nancy followed Mike into the stallion barn. The old building was ablaze with light, and several hands were attempting to calm down Twister.

  “What happened to him?” Mike demanded.

  “Beats me,” one rangy-looking hand said. “I guess Hank’s theory is true. Bad blood.”

  Nancy wasn’t so sure.

  “Whoa—slow down,” Mike murmured softly to the horse, walking slowly into the stall.

  “He’s been in a frenzy all night,” the hand said.

  “I just don’t understand why he’s been acting up,” Mike said. The stallion pawed the straw in his box.

  “Maybe he ate something he shouldn’t have,” Nancy suggested.

  Three pairs of eyes glanced disdainfully at her. “That’s impossible. These horses all eat the best feed money can buy,” one hand said. “And we feed the horses ourselves.”

  “That may be true, but if Twister’s temperament has changed, there has to be a reason for it.”

  “Yeah—like he was born bad!” one stable boy declared.

  “Horses don’t change overnight, do they?” Nancy asked.

  “Not usually,” Mike admitted as he quieted the nervous stallion. “But it’s been known to happen.”

  “Maybe someone put something in his feed,” Nancy persisted.

  “No one at this ranch would harm any of the horses,” Mike said, then clamped his mouth shut. Twister kicked again, and Nancy noted the white crescent mark on his fetlock.

  “He’s acting just like Renegade,” one of the hands said.

  “Not quite,” replied another. “This is calm for Renegade.”

  “Listen, I have work to do,” Mike said, tightlipped. “Didn’t Hank tell you to leave the horses to us, Nancy?”

  More determined than ever to find out what was going on, Nancy marched toward Renegade’s stall. It was empty. The straw was kicked around, and one of the slats of the stall gate was smashed. Black horse hair and several grooved impressions of horseshoes showed on the splintered wood. But the box itself seemed normal: straw, a feed bag, a water bucket, and a half-eaten apple.

  Nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Nancy’s mind was working overtime as she hurried to see to General H.

  The moon had settled low in the sky, and the wind felt cool against her face. Why, she wondered, would a horse “go bad”? Could Twister have contracted some disease, or had someone terrified him? Puzzled, she climbed the steps to the back entrance. She decided she had to find Renegade in order to find the answer.

  She pushed open the kitchen door and saw George, Bess, Peggy, and Tammy seated around the kitchen table. They all grinned when they saw Nancy. “About time you showed up,” George said.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Nancy asked Tammy.

  “That’s right!” Peggy declared. “Dr. Hobart wouldn’t like this.”

  Tammy sighed. “I know, but I couldn’t sleep—not with Renegade out there!” Anxiously, she glanced through the window to the dark night beyond, and her hands shook a little as she cradled a cup of hot tea. “Hank was just here. He told us you followed Renegade to t
he ravine, and then he jumped and disappeared over the edge.”

  “That’s the way it looked,” Nancy admitted. She washed her hands, pulled up a chair, and joined her friends to tell them all about her adventure. Then Nancy persuaded Tammy to let her help her back to her room.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help,” Tammy said as she settled under the covers of her bed.

  “I just wish I hadn’t lost Renegade,” Nancy said.

  “We’ll find him,” Tammy whispered. Then she added, “We have to.”

  Nancy walked back to her room. After a long, hot shower, she knocked softly on the connecting door to the cousins’ room.

  “Come in,” George called.

  Nancy shoved the door open. George was flopped on her bed with a magazine, and Bess was busy painting her nails.

  “Aren’t you tired?” Nancy asked. Her muscles were beginning to ache from the long hours astride a horse.

  “A little,” George admitted, yawning. “Oh, with all the excitement about Renegade, I forgot to tell you the big news! While you were gone, Rob Majors phoned. I don’t know what he said to Tammy, but she seemed pretty upset. When I asked her about it, she said it was nothing, just that he and that Landon guy are coming over here tomorrow.”

  “There’s something else,” Bess said, her blue eyes dancing.

  “You two have been busy.” Nancy smiled. “What’s up?”

  “Peggy told me that Mike Mathews is her nephew!” Bess said proudly.

  “So what?” George asked.

  Bess frowned. “Well, maybe nothing. But don’t you think it’s odd that Mike used to work for Nathaniel Baines, then ended up here? Why didn’t he work here first, since his aunt has been with the Calloway Ranch for more than ten years?”

  “Good question, Bess,” Nancy said.

  Bess blew on her nails. “And Peggy says the horses have been acting oddly for a week or so.”

  “So have some of the hands,” Nancy said, then yawned. “They all act as if Twister’s gone bad overnight.” Her blue eyes glinted with determination. “But I’m going to prove them wrong.”

  “Uh-oh!” Bess glanced at George. “This time Nancy has really gone off her rocker. She’s got a horse for a client!”