“Why not?” Stevie demanded. “We’re so helpful. We give such good advice.”
“Girls!” groaned Phil. “Always trying to fix things. Let’s leave them alone.”
AS THE GROUP entered the indoor ring, Mo was tying Indy to the fence. When Carole caught sight of Indy, she was shocked. “Hey! What the …!” She paused and then understood both her mistake and what Stevie had wanted her to see. “He looks so much like Starlight!” she exclaimed.
“That’s what I thought, too,” Stevie said triumphantly. “Isn’t it amazing? Maybe they’re really secret twins! Maybe,” she continued dramatically, “Starlight and Indy were separated at birth by cruel people, who forced them to live apart until the day they accidentally met …”
“No, Starlight wasn’t a twin,” said Carole, shaking her head. She knew how Stevie’s imagination could go on … and on. “It’s just an incredible likeness.”
The group walked to Mo and Indy. Stevie quickly made the introductions while Carole patted her horse’s near twin. Indy even liked to be scratched on the cheek, Starlight’s favorite place.
“I’m curious to meet Indy’s double,” said Mo, smiling at Carole.
“We’ll show you,” offered Lisa. Mo was just as friendly as Stevie had said. After her unpleasant encounters with Kurt, Celeste, and Howard, Lisa was relieved to finally meet a rider from Mendenhall that she liked.
Mo made sure that Indy was hitched securely to the fence. Then she double-checked her gleaming, carefully polished show tack, which was slung over a bench just outside the ring. She was ready.
The young riders made their way into the stable, Carole in the lead, Mo walking beside her. “Indy’s sixteen hands. How tall is Starlight?”
“The same,” said Carole. “What’s Indy’s favorite snack?”
“Apples,” said Mo.
“Granny Smith?” Carole asked. Mo nodded. “Starlight’s, too.” This was getting weird!
When Mo saw Starlight, her jaw dropped. “You weren’t kidding!” she said. She scratched him on the cheek and laughed when his ears flicked forward like Indy’s.
After visiting Starlight, the group returned to the indoor ring. “I just can’t believe it,” Mo repeated for the fourth time. “I just can’t believe how much Starlight looks like Indy.”
“Or how much Indy looks like Starlight,” Carole said teasingly. “I can’t believe it, either.”
“Good thing you don’t ride at the same stable,” joked Stevie. “It would be like wearing the same outfit as the other person all the time.”
Everyone laughed. “I sure hope Starlight and Indy don’t feel that way, especially since I spent hours cleaning his tack last—” Mo stopped suddenly, staring just beyond her horse. Her newfound friends stopped just as suddenly.
“Oh no!” Mo exclaimed. Stevie, Lisa, Carole, and Phil looked where she pointed. Indy’s shiny clean show tack lay in a tumbled heap on the dusty floor!
“I SPENT HOURS polishing that tack last night!” wailed Mo. She picked up her bridle and tried untangling the reins. All her tack was covered with a fine layer of gritty dust. Someone had even seen fit to put a muddy footprint on Mo’s saddle.
The Saddle Club was shocked. “Who would do something so mean?” Lisa wondered aloud.
Mo looked grim. “Celeste and Howard, that’s who,” she said. “Celeste will do anything—anything—to win in competition, and Howard will do anything Celeste asks him to do. Have you met them? They’re totally awful.”
“Well, they were pretty awful when we met them,” admitted Carole. “But would they deliberately sabotage someone else’s equipment?” Even though she had disliked Celeste and Howard, she couldn’t believe they would stoop so low to win a ribbon.
“Yes,” answered Mo. “You just don’t know them like I do. They’ve done horrible things to me. This is actually minor compared to some of the stuff they’ve done. But what am I going to do about my tack?” Her eyes looked suspiciously bright, and The Saddle Club could tell she was on the verge of tears. The dressage rally was due to begin in about forty-five minutes, and it usually took at least that long to get tack into show condition.
Stevie stepped forward. “C’mon, we’ll take it to the tack room and help you polish it again. With all of us working, it shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.”
“You’d help me clean my tack?” Mo asked in disbelief.
“Well, I certainly couldn’t let Starlight’s twin go into the ring looking like that,” Carole said, leading the way to the saddle soap.
When they got to the tack room, they found Celeste and Howard putting a few finishing touches on Celeste’s tack. Or rather, Howard was working on Celeste’s tack. Celeste herself was sitting on a stool, giving Howard directions in her icy-sweet voice. She was swinging her riding crop lightly, using it as a pointer to direct Howard to spots he had missed.
Mo stood in front of the pair and put her hands on her hips. “You’ve done some nasty things to win, Celeste, but this is the final straw! How dare you throw my tack onto the floor?”
“Why, whatever are you talking about?” Celeste asked sweetly. Howard didn’t say anything. He just shook his head and continued to polish Celeste’s saddle.
The Saddle Club was astounded. Celeste was obviously guilty. “I can’t believe you would be so mean,” Stevie said, glaring at Celeste and Howard. She was always the first person to jump into a fight, and her temper was heating up. Mo was by far the nicest person from Mendenhall, and she was clearly the victim in this case. Carole and Lisa didn’t say anything. Even though they were also appalled, they felt uneasy about getting involved in such an ugly situation.
“Maybe you don’t know the whole story,” suggested a quiet voice from the corner. It was Kurt, who was slowly polishing a pair of stirrups. No one had noticed him before, and after giving him one angry glance, Mo turned her attention back to Celeste and Howard.
“What’s there to know? I left my tack in perfect condition and five minutes later it was on the ground,” fumed Mo. “I know you two did it. I just know it!”
“Why would I need to damage your tack?” Celeste asked smugly. “I’m a good enough rider to beat you any day.”
“I’ll tell the officials,” Mo threatened, her voice tightening into an infuriated squeak. Celeste’s coolness seemed to be angering her even more. “You can’t beat me if you aren’t allowed in the competition.”
Howard stood up and raised a bony hand, attempting to look dignified. “Now, Mo, I don’t think you should make a scene,” he said pompously.
Stevie chimed in again. “You should be barred from competition,” she said loudly to Celeste. “Better yet, you should be barred from all riding stables in the area! This goes beyond bad sportsmanship. You—”
“What’s going on here?” Max’s voice broke in. The group turned and saw Max and Denise standing in the door of the tack room.
Then Veronica poked her head in the other door. “You’re upsetting Danny before the competition. I’ll bet you’re doing it on purpose. What’s all the noise?” she demanded.
“What a busybody,” muttered Carole to Lisa.
“Everyone, in my office, now,” commanded Max. Everyone, even Kurt and Veronica, obeyed immediately. No one argued with Max when he spoke in that tone.
Once they were all in his office, Max shut the door and turned to face the entire group. Denise stood off to the side, also looking stern.
“Now, will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Max asked. He looked at Stevie. Obviously, he had heard Stevie’s voice arguing loudly along with the rest.
Stevie fidgeted. She hated to be the one to tell on Celeste and Howard. But the memory of what they had done to Mo’s tack still rankled, and she couldn’t keep silent. Besides, maybe Max could do something about the way Celeste and Howard treated Mo. “Well, you see, Celeste—” she began.
“I am very sorry,” Celeste interrupted sweetly. She stepped forward and smiled at Max. “We apologize for ma
king so much noise, don’t we, Howard?”
Howard nodded. “Yes, we’re sorry.”
Stevie was shocked. They were going to try to get away with the whole thing! Outraged, she turned to Mo, waiting for her to tell the dreadful story about her tack. But Mo didn’t say a word. So Stevie began again to tell the story. “Mo left her—Ow!” Mo nudged Stevie with her elbow, hard. Stevie knew a hint when she felt one. She stared at Mo, saw an icy look on her face, and stopped talking. Carole and Lisa also noticed Mo’s nudge and looked at each other in puzzlement.
Stevie found Mo’s sudden reticence disturbing. Although she and her friends weren’t generally tattlers when riders misbehaved or made mistakes, Celeste’s behavior was outrageous and deserved some sort of punishment. Stevie gagged on her own words, then tried to clear her throat. Mo nudged her again, this time even harder.
Stevie lost her balance and stumbled against a nearby table stacked high with catalogs of horse-related equipment, tack, and riding clothes—all of which cascaded to the floor. As she bent to retrieve them, she noticed a bulging envelope lying haphazardly on the rag rug. She picked it up and saw that it was full of cash.
“Max, what’s this?” she said, straightening up and holding out the envelope.
Max turned pale. “Thank you, Stevie,” he said, taking the envelope. “That’s the refund from the feed company that delivered the bad hay. I must have dropped it—I can’t believe I could be so careless.” He checked to make sure that none of the bills had dropped out, then put the envelope on a high shelf. He tucked it far behind a stack of books so that it was hidden from view.
Carole, Lisa, and Stevie noticed that the money jar for CARL was also sitting on the shelf and was almost full of change and bills. It looked like Pine Hollow had come up with a substantial donation. After hiding the envelope, Max also pushed the CARL jar behind the stack of books.
Max turned back to the group. “I don’t know what’s going on here, and none of you seems willing to tell me,” he began, fixing each student with a stern eye. “But no matter what a rider’s personal feelings are, he or she should never display the type of behavior I saw in the tack room. Part of being a rider is how you carry yourself. It’s really important—”
Just then Red stuck his head in the office. “Max, riders from Ballard Hills and more riders from Cross County,” he announced.
“Okay, we’ll be right there,” Max answered, and Denise hurried out. Max looked at the group of riders again and said, “You’re spared the lecture, so for the time being, just stay out of trouble and behave yourselves. Now, I’m sure everyone has some preparation to do before the rally, and if not, then try to help other riders. Get started!” With that, Max hurried after Denise. Celeste, Howard, and Kurt followed quickly. Veronica disappeared before anyone could give her a job to do.
Carole and Lisa went up to Mo, who still looked mad. “Let’s get that tack clean now,” Carole said.
“Thanks,” answered Mo in a subdued tone. At the mention of her tack, she began to look less angry and more discouraged. Carole and Lisa couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. It was obvious that Celeste often picked on Mo, and they wondered how Mo could stand it. Even though they had to put up with Veronica’s pettiness sometimes, it was nothing compared to the obvious bad feeling between Mo and Celeste and Howard.
“Mo, why don’t you tell someone about how mean Celeste is to you?” Lisa asked gently.
“What good would it do?” Mo muttered, almost to herself. Then she shrugged. “Thanks for helping me with the tack,” she said, walking out of the office. Carole and Lisa looked at each other. It was obvious that Mo didn’t want to talk about it, and they didn’t know her well enough to pry. They followed her into the tack room.
Veronica was picking up a cloth when they got there. “I can’t believe that I was forced to endure that little lecture,” she complained to no one in particular. “It had absolutely nothing to do with me, and I have so much to do for Danny before the rally starts.”
Stevie and Phil exchanged glances. Red or Denise almost always tacked up Danny for Veronica. They knew that in all likelihood Veronica was bringing the polishing cloth for someone else to do the work. All she had to do, usually, was climb on the horse. “Maybe you weren’t caught yelling this time, but otherwise, I’d say you deserve the title of Queen of Screech,” said Phil.
“I’ve had enough of your little remarks, Phil Marsten,” Veronica hissed. “You’d better watch your back. And that includes you, little girlfriend!” she added, turning to Stevie. She stomped out, whipping the polishing cloth behind her for effect.
Stevie made a cross with her fingers as if to ward off evil. “Listen, you’ve had some fun with Veronica, but let’s just stay out of her way,” she suggested to Phil. “It’s the day of our anniversary celebration, remember? And we’ve got a rally ahead of us.
“Besides,” she said as she linked arms with Phil, “I don’t know what Veronica meant by ‘little.’ I’m taller than she is.”
“THERE,” LISA SAID, tightening Prancer’s girth. “You’re ready to go.” Prancer was tacked up and in perfect show form. Her mane and tail were beautifully braided—thanks to Stevie—and Lisa had carefully touched up Prancer’s tack after helping Mo with hers.
Prancer turned her head and reached her nose out to Lisa. “Hey,” Lisa said, jerking back. Prancer had just nibbled her hair for the fourth or fifth time since she had entered the stall. The horse had also butted Lisa with her head several times.
Lisa shook her head in confusion. Nibbling hair and bumping people playfully was something that Belle, Stevie’s horse, was prone to do, but Prancer was usually gentle and more dignified. What had gotten into the mare lately?
Stevie stuck her head over the stall door. “Almost ready?” she asked.
“Yes,” answered Lisa. “But I can’t get over it. Prancer’s still not acting like herself.”
“Maybe she’s been taken over by body-snatching aliens. The kind of aliens that prefer horses to people. Come to think about it, we should get to know those aliens!” joked Stevie.
Lisa didn’t laugh. Normally she found Stevie’s dumb jokes at least mildly funny, but Prancer’s unexplained behavior was worrying her. It wasn’t that she was sick or even naughty, just un-Prancer-like.
A FEW MINUTES later Carole, Lisa, Stevie, Phil, and A. J. met outside and began walking toward the show ring. The rally was due to begin in less than fifteen minutes. Lisa was leading Prancer, since she was one of the first riders scheduled to compete.
Just as they reached the show ring, Max appeared. He looked upset and almost rushed by the girls without seeing them.
“Hey, Max, is something wrong?” Carole called out in concern.
Max halted and looked around. He raked his fingers through his hair. “The money’s gone—all of it. It was in my office ten minutes ago—well, you saw it—and now it’s gone! I thought the feed refund and the CARL jar would be safer in the house, so I went back to get it and it was gone!”
“How much money is missing?” asked Phil.
“Over five hundred dollars,” Max said glumly.
The Saddle Club could hardly believe their ears. Five hundred dollars! How could that be? They’d all just seen it, and now … Who would take five hundred dollars?
Max began looking around. Riders from the different Pony Clubs were beginning to gather with their horses outside the show ring. Parents and other spectators occupied the bleachers just outside the show ring. “I guess I should make an announcement,” he said reluctantly. “Maybe someone knows something about the missing money.”
Max went to the table at the side of the show ring, where he sat with the judges. He raised his hand and the crowd quieted down. Usually Max opened shows at Pine Hollow with a welcoming greeting for all the visiting Pony Clubs. Today his first remarks had quite a different tone.
“I have a very disturbing announcement to make,” began Max. He didn’t look worried and upset anymore. Carole
, Lisa, and Stevie knew that in a crisis Max usually managed to maintain a rational and calm appearance. “Someone has just taken a large sum of money out of my office.”
The crowd began to murmur. Max held up his hand for silence. “It was my fault for being so careless as to leave it there, but I’ve always encouraged an open atmosphere at this stable and I didn’t think it would be a problem. Now the money is gone, and if anyone knows anything about the disappearance, please come and talk to me. If you know where the money is, you can just leave it in my office when I’m not there—no questions asked.”
The riders from visiting Pony Clubs shuffled uneasily, and several people darted glances at each other. Then Veronica diAngelo stepped forward. “I know something,” she said, looking pleased with herself.
“Uh-oh,” whispered Stevie. Veronica had an expression on her face that meant trouble. But even Stevie didn’t anticipate what Veronica said next.
“I know who took the money,” announced Veronica. “Phil Marsten is the thief. I saw him sneaking out of your office ten minutes ago!”
VERONICA’S ACCUSATION SET off a shock wave of reaction. Stevie could hardly believe her ears. Had Veronica lost her mind? Maybe she was still mad at Phil because of all his teasing, but this was too much!
Members of the Cross County Pony Club, who were all good friends with Phil, began protesting his innocence. “That’s a lie, Veronica!” A.J. called out. Phil’s parents looked outraged at Veronica’s words. Members of other Pony Clubs who didn’t know Phil began craning their necks for a glimpse of the supposed thief.
Stevie opened her mouth to tell Veronica off, but Max forestalled her. “No, Stevie. Let Phil speak,” he ordered.
An uneasy silence fell over the group. Phil looked around uncomfortably and then glanced at Veronica, his green eyes cold. “That’s ridiculous!” he said. “I didn’t take the money. I haven’t had any money for weeks—I’m always broke,” he added, trying to make a joke of it. The joke fell flat, and no one laughed.
Horse Thief Page 4