“If I find out that she’s done anything to Twister, Stella will have to answer to me personally!” Tammy vowed. Her green eyes snapped as she took the back stairs and dashed through the kitchen.
Nancy, Bess, and George followed. Outside, the wind had picked up, and rain peppered the gravel. A streak of lightning flashed over the surrounding hills.
Tammy yanked open the door of the stallion barn and switched on the light. Gasping, she stopped short.
Twister’s stall was empty!
A cold feeling settled in the pit of Nancy’s stomach.
“What now?” George asked.
Nancy ran through the barn to the far end of the stalls. The back door was open. It caught against the wind and banged against the outside wall. Rain blew inside, puddling on the concrete floor. Renegade was gone!
14
Renegade Ride
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Tammy asked, sick at heart.
“Not for long,” Nancy declared. She closed the door of the barn and turned to find Mike Mathews striding into the building from the main entrance. “Stella’s stolen Renegade and Twister,” Nancy told him.
He glanced at Twister’s empty stall. “What do you mean?”
Tammy said, “Nancy thinks the horses were switched, that Stella rode Twister out of here a few nights ago, and that the horse she left in Twister’s stall was really Renegade.”
“That’s impossible—those two horses act so different!”
Tammy explained Nancy’s theory and looked Mike steadily in the eye. “Nancy also thinks you might have had something to do with everything that’s gone on around here.”
“I already told her I didn’t,” Mike snapped. But he added quickly, “And I don’t think Stella had any part in this.”
“Then prove it,” Nancy suggested, her mind spinning ahead to the only logical place Stella could have hidden Twister. “Help me find the horses.”
Mike didn’t back down. “I’d be glad to.”
“Good. Tell me about Stella’s private corral—the place where she practices. Where is it?”
Mike studied the determined set of Nancy’s jaw and hesitated. “Stella doesn’t like company. And I already asked her if she’d seen the horse.”
“So where does she practice?”
Mike wrestled with his conscience a minute, then said, “At the west end of Misty Canyon. There’s a sort of a natural box in the cliffs.”
“Hank’s men searched that area,” Tammy said to Nancy. “And they talked with Stella.”
But Nancy wasn’t deterred. “Is there any shelter for her horses up there? A barn?”
“Just a lean-to she uses for hay,” Mike said. “But, yes, it’s big enough for a horse or two.”
George said, “Stella could’ve hidden Twister inside, and Hank’s men wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Now, wait a minute—” Mike protested.
Nancy asked, “How do I get there?”
“You don’t,” Mike said, taking a stand. “There are no roads, and it’s a stormy night. You’d never find the place.”
“He’s right,” Tammy said. “I know those hills, and it would be impossible to try to follow the trail. It runs along the stream and winds through the foothills.”
“The stream where I lost Twister before?” Nancy asked.
“Right. It’s a couple of miles up the creek from that point,” Tammy said.
“That’s all I need to know,” Nancy said, then turned to George. “Call the sheriff’s office and talk to Deputy McMillan. Tell him what I’m doing, and ask him to send officers here and to the Circle B.”
“What are you planning to do?” Mike demanded.
Nancy smiled. “I’m either going to expose Stella for the horse thief she is or end up looking like a bad detective.” She turned and ran to the trail horse barn.
Tammy was right behind her, matching her strides. “This is too dangerous, Nancy!” she exclaimed, waving toward the hills. “Look at that storm. Please wait!”
Lightning cracked across the sky. “It might be too late already,” Nancy replied as she hoisted a saddle onto General H’s back and tightened the cinch. “Stella knows I’m on to her. There’s no time to lose. She probably had to lead Renegade out of here because she couldn’t ride him, even if he was drugged. That should slow her down a little. Let’s just hope I can find her before she does anything stupid.”
“You don’t really think she’d hurt Renegade, do you?”
“I hope not,” Nancy said. She led General H outside, swung into the saddle, and pressed her heels into the buckskin’s ribs.
As General H leapt forward, Nancy snapped on her flashlight and squinted through the driving rain. She knew that George and Bess would contact the sheriff.
If only she wasn’t too late!
General H galloped across the rain-slickened fields and into the woods. Though the forest was dark and gloomy, Nancy let her horse find his way along the path through the pines.
Wind whistled through the branches overhead, and twice General H shied. At last, the woods gave way to a clearing and the ridge where Renegade—or Twister, as Nancy suspected—had disappeared several nights before.
The buckskin balked at the edge of the ravine, but Nancy urged him forward. Stumbling, he slid down the steep embankment to the crooked stream. Nancy turned west and followed the trail along the bank, her heart pounding in excitement when she noticed fresh tracks along the wet banks. She was right! Stella had obviously ridden through here!
Lightning sizzled through the hills in the distance, and thunder rumbled across the sky. Rain slid down her neck. Nancy was cold to the bone by the time the trail led away from the creek and through a thicket of trees.
Then General H’s ears pricked up, and Nancy stopped. Straining, she heard the sound of an engine starting before fading away. Stella must have parked her truck here, then ridden her horse to Calloway Ranch to steal the stallion, Nancy reasoned. Now Stella had driven off.
Good, Nancy thought. She could rescue Tammy’s two stallions without a confrontation. When Stella returned to the Circle B, she would have to face Deputy McMillan.
Clucking her tongue, Nancy kicked the General softly. Her horse rounded a final bend, and the trees gave way to open land surrounded on three sides by steep cliffs.
“So this is it,” she whispered, squinting against the rain. She noticed the rails and gate that blocked off the end of the canyon. Within the enclosure, she saw a racing track, some oil drums used in barrel racing, and a lean-to that was little more than a shack. Renegade and Twister had to be inside!
General H fidgeted and snorted as Nancy tied the reins of his bridle over the top rail. She vaulted the fence, then sloshed her way through the mud to the shack.
Horses nickered from within the small lean-to. Shoving hard on the door, Nancy forced her way into the musty-smelling single room. Rain dripped against the roof and ran inside down the cracks in the walls.
Nancy moved her flashlight across the dark interior. A stallion shrieked as Nancy shone her flashlight inside, and Nancy grinned as she recognized Renegade—or was it Twister? It didn’t matter. The black stallions, both blindfolded, and Stella’s horse were tied to the far end of the room.
Nancy untied Twister and Renegade and led them, kicking and pulling, through the small door. “Come on,” she said, trying to quiet them both, but they tossed their heads wildly, rearing and nearly pulling Nancy’s arms out of their sockets. Her boots slid in the mud, and the reins cut into her palms. If the two horses hadn’t been blindfolded, she wouldn’t have been able to control them.
Lightning streaked across the sky as Nancy opened the gate. Rain pounded the earth, and, from far in the distance, she heard the sound of an engine whining. Was it the sheriff’s department or Stella? She stopped and listened. Her heart sank as she realized the noise was getting closer.
Twin beams of headlights cut through the rain just as thunder rumbled overhead. Then a horn blasted, echoing
through the canyon.
General H spooked, rearing backward and yanking so hard on the reins that the top rail of the fence snapped, setting him free. He tore off, hooves thundering.
Nancy was stranded!
She had no choice but to ride one of the rodeo stallions. They both reared wildly. Which was Renegade and which was Twister?
Nancy didn’t have time to find out.
She pulled them closer to the fence, climbed on the top rail, yanked off their blindfolds, and jumped onto the back of one stallion. With the fingers of her right hand around his lead rope and entwined in his mane, she gave him a quick kick. She held tightly to the lead rope of the other horse with her free hand.
Nancy’s mount leapt forward. Across the flat, muddy ground they tore. The pickup, horn blasting, wheels spinning, roared after them. Rain beat down from the cloud-covered sky. Nancy could barely see. The powerful horse beneath her ran crazily toward the woods, his sleek muscles bunching and extending.
“Come on, come on,” Nancy said, nearly losing her balance as he leapt into the air and shied at the sound of the horn. Nancy looked over her shoulder as lightning flashed again. She could clearly see Stella in the driver’s seat, and the pickup was closing the gap!
She leaned forward just as her mount ducked into the scrub trees and ran along the banks of the creek. Water splashed from his powerful legs, and twice he stumbled.
Nancy prayed that the truck couldn’t follow, but the engine didn’t falter. Stella drove her rig through the trees, then down the middle of the stream after them, honking her horn wildly. She was so close now that Nancy was sure the terrified horse behind would fall and be crushed by the truck!
Suddenly, a horrifying explosion sounded. Stella was shooting at her!
A sizzling object whizzed over Nancy’s head. Fireworks! Stella was setting off skyrockets, hoping to spook the horses!
The first rocket exploded to the left, sending a spray of blinding green light throughout the rain-drizzled forest. The stallion reared and screamed. Nancy pitched forward but managed to stay astride.
The next skyrocket burst a few feet in front of the horse, and he shuddered before lunging high into the air.
Nancy hung on for dear life. “Hold on, boy,” she said, urging him up the surrounding hills. She couldn’t reach for her flashlight unless she let go of the horse behind her, but she wasn’t about to lose Tammy’s stallions. Not now!
Another skyrocket sprayed sparks behind them, and the back horse bolted, nearly ripping Nancy off her mount. Nancy’s arms ached, but she wouldn’t let go! Her stallion scrambled up a bank. Nancy expected a skyrocket to land at any minute, but the whistling and explosions stopped abruptly. Stella must have given up.
Gasping, Nancy clung to her horse as he tore up an embankment.
Suddenly, light flooded the area. For a minute, she thought Stella had circled around and was using the pickup’s headlights to blind her. She was about to shout for help when she realized that she wasn’t looking into headlights at all. Before her was a group of riders with a searchlight—a group of riders she couldn’t have been happier to see!
George was on Whirlwind, Tammy on a big roan, Hank and Mike on their horses, and even Bess was there, astride Marshmallow. They were all very wet but relieved to see Nancy.
Nancy wanted to shout for joy.
She slid to the ground and gave her mount’s reins to Hank.
“We called Deputy McMillan,” George said. “He went straight over to the Circle B to arrest Stella for horse thieving.”
Nancy looked through the rain to Mike Mathews, who said, “I guess I owe you another apology, Nancy.”
In the distance, through the pounding rain, Nancy heard the scream of sirens and knew that Stella would finally be captured.
“I owe you a big favor,” Tammy said, dismounting. “And I want you and your friends to stay an extra week at the ranch—free of charge!”
“I hope that doesn’t mean we have more kitchen duty,” George said with a laugh.
“No way,” Tammy replied. Then she stared at the horse Nancy had ridden. She examined his fetlock and gasped. “This is Renegade,” she whispered in awe. “You actually rode him!”
“How about that?” Hank murmured.
Nancy smiled weakly at the thought. “He was drugged . . . remember?”
“Come on,” Tammy suggested. “You can double up with me. We need to get you back to the ranch to dry out.”
• • •
The next day, Deputy McMillan stopped by Calloway Ranch. The sun had broken through the clouds, and though the ground was still damp, the air was fresh and clean. Nancy, Bess, George, and Tammy were sitting on the front porch, drinking lemonade and eating apple fritters, as he approached.
He strode up the steps and took off his sunglasses. “I thought you’d want to know that Stella confessed to everything,” he told Tammy. “Mike Mathews wasn’t involved at all.”
“I already knew that,” Tammy said. “I believed what he told me.”
“Stella switched the horses and rode Twister out of here, just as Miss Drew figured. She even admitted to rigging the car with the fireworks and planting the snake in the sleeping bag,” McMillan reported. “Every day she’d manage to drive over here on the pretense of seeing Mike, then drug the horse. You almost caught her at it, Nancy, and she had to knock you out.”
“What about the Masons’ wallet and purse?” Bess asked.
“She did that when you were all outside, and she typed the threatening note on her father’s typewriter. She’s confessed to it all.”
“Were Vern Landon and Rob Majors involved?”
McMillan sighed and took the glass of lemonade Nancy had poured for him. “The way I hear it, the bank Majors works for is not at all happy about the way he handled everything. He’s made some enemies, and the bank’s embarrassed. As for Landon, he’ll probably just move on to the next land deal.” He took a long swallow from his glass, then turned to Tammy. “Are you going to press charges against Stella Baines?”
“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said. “Maybe it would be better if she had to ride against me in the rodeo.”
The deputy smiled. “Are you that sure of winning?”
Tammy tossed her hair out of her eyes confidently. “Sooner or later, Stella and I will have to compete. Now that I’ve got Twister back, I think I’ve got a good chance, thanks to Nancy Drew.”
“That reminds me,” McMillan said. “Miss Drew, you rode Renegade last night! I thought he was billed as the horse no man could ride.”
“He was,” Nancy replied with a dimpled smile. “But he wasn’t billed as the horse no woman could ride!”
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A MINSTREL PAPERBACK ORIGINAL
A Minstrel Book published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
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www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 1988 by Simon & Schuster Inc.
Cover art copyright © 1988 by Linda Thomas
Produced by Mega-Books of New York, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
ISBN: 0-671-63417-8
ISBN 978-1-4814-0189-0 (eBook)
First Minstrel Books printing December 1988
NANCY DREW, NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES, A MINSTREL BOOK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.
The Mystery of Misty Canyon Page 10