twitch or squint too much or get hair in my face or
anything
, it shows. Other scenes—like, say, the scenes on horseback—are more distant: You’ll see a horse and a rider, but the camera won’t pick up every last blink.” With a sigh, he added, “That’s why they can use a double for my riding scenes.”
“So the director’s still talking about calling in a stuntman?” Lisa inquired.
Skye nodded gloomily. “Yes. He told me he wanted to make a few phone calls and fly somebody in today or tomorrow. He says we have to get one of the riding scenes done tomorrow afternoon, at three P.M. sharp. I told him that I think Sir Prize will be ready, and I also told him not to call anyone—not yet, anyway. But you can’t trust Blake. He’ll do anything when my back is turned,” said Skye.
Although she had winced at Skye’s mention of Sir Prize, Stevie said confidently, “Don’t worry, Skye. The next time Blake sees you, you will be ready.”
There was a longish pause before Carole and Lisajumped in to second Stevie’s prediction. “Sure, Skye,” said Carole. “Stevie’s right.”
“We wouldn’t let you down,” Lisa added.
Nearby, a voice barked over a bullhorn. “Skye Ransom. You’re wanted in makeup. Ransom to makeup.”
Skye seemed glad for the interruption. It obviously made him nervous to talk about the problem. “As they say in Hollywood, there’s my cue,” he said. “I’ll see you this afternoon for the lesson.”
When he had gone, The Saddle Club turned and fled the premises.
“Why the heck did I have to go and say that?” Stevie wailed.
“Why the heck did I have to agree with you?” Lisa groaned.
“Who cares? What I want to know is
how
the heck we’re going to solve this one!” Carole said.
There was no question about it: The Saddle Club was panicked. Stevie called an emergency meeting in the tack room of the barn. On the way there, they met Kate coming from the trailers. They waved her over.
“Wait till you hear the latest!” Kate said, falling into step with them. “The spouses of the actors and film crew have decided that they’re bored. So they asked my mother if we could arrange group trail rides for them, the way wedo for our usual guests! Isn’t that too much? Mom and I have been working around the clock to keep them happy, we’ve hired extra help to provide maid service in the trailers, and now they want trail rides, too! I know they’re paying a lot to use the place, but honestly, sometimes I’m not sure it’s worth it.”
Murmuring their sympathy, the girls insisted that Kate at least take time out to come to The Saddle Club meeting. She was eager to comply.
A few minutes later, after they had negotiated the maze of roped-off sections that lay between the set and the barn, the four of them were seated on the floor of the tack room. They filled Kate in on the grim outlook.
T HE GIRLS TALKED about the problem for almost an hour, but they finally realized that all they could hope for was that Skye would somehow get lucky and pull off a couple of decent scenes with Sir Prize. “The most frustrating thing is that Skye isn’t the real problem—the horse is. Skye might not be perfect, but with a good horse, he could do fine. And yet he’s going to be the one who suffers if they call in a stuntman,” Lisa pointed out.
“You’re right. Sir Prize wouldn’t care if his Hollywood career went down the tubes, would he?” Kate said.
Stevie giggled. “Maybe we should expose him to thepress! We could leak a story to the Beverly Hills gossip magazines that the great Sir Prize isn’t much of a prize after all.”
Everyone laughed, but Lisa remarked, “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. Bad publicity can ruin a career. And in Hollywood, even animals have careers!”
The four girls wandered into the aisle of the barn. It was time to go get lunch so that they could be back to tack up Stewball for Skye’s afternoon lesson. Carole cast an eye down the row of
anything
, it shows. Other scenes—like, say, the scenes on horseback—are more distant: You’ll see a horse and a rider, but the camera won’t pick up every last blink.” With a sigh, he added, “That’s why they can use a double for my riding scenes.”
“So the director’s still talking about calling in a stuntman?” Lisa inquired.
Skye nodded gloomily. “Yes. He told me he wanted to make a few phone calls and fly somebody in today or tomorrow. He says we have to get one of the riding scenes done tomorrow afternoon, at three P.M. sharp. I told him that I think Sir Prize will be ready, and I also told him not to call anyone—not yet, anyway. But you can’t trust Blake. He’ll do anything when my back is turned,” said Skye.
Although she had winced at Skye’s mention of Sir Prize, Stevie said confidently, “Don’t worry, Skye. The next time Blake sees you, you will be ready.”
There was a longish pause before Carole and Lisajumped in to second Stevie’s prediction. “Sure, Skye,” said Carole. “Stevie’s right.”
“We wouldn’t let you down,” Lisa added.
Nearby, a voice barked over a bullhorn. “Skye Ransom. You’re wanted in makeup. Ransom to makeup.”
Skye seemed glad for the interruption. It obviously made him nervous to talk about the problem. “As they say in Hollywood, there’s my cue,” he said. “I’ll see you this afternoon for the lesson.”
When he had gone, The Saddle Club turned and fled the premises.
“Why the heck did I have to go and say that?” Stevie wailed.
“Why the heck did I have to agree with you?” Lisa groaned.
“Who cares? What I want to know is
how
the heck we’re going to solve this one!” Carole said.
There was no question about it: The Saddle Club was panicked. Stevie called an emergency meeting in the tack room of the barn. On the way there, they met Kate coming from the trailers. They waved her over.
“Wait till you hear the latest!” Kate said, falling into step with them. “The spouses of the actors and film crew have decided that they’re bored. So they asked my mother if we could arrange group trail rides for them, the way wedo for our usual guests! Isn’t that too much? Mom and I have been working around the clock to keep them happy, we’ve hired extra help to provide maid service in the trailers, and now they want trail rides, too! I know they’re paying a lot to use the place, but honestly, sometimes I’m not sure it’s worth it.”
Murmuring their sympathy, the girls insisted that Kate at least take time out to come to The Saddle Club meeting. She was eager to comply.
A few minutes later, after they had negotiated the maze of roped-off sections that lay between the set and the barn, the four of them were seated on the floor of the tack room. They filled Kate in on the grim outlook.
T HE GIRLS TALKED about the problem for almost an hour, but they finally realized that all they could hope for was that Skye would somehow get lucky and pull off a couple of decent scenes with Sir Prize. “The most frustrating thing is that Skye isn’t the real problem—the horse is. Skye might not be perfect, but with a good horse, he could do fine. And yet he’s going to be the one who suffers if they call in a stuntman,” Lisa pointed out.
“You’re right. Sir Prize wouldn’t care if his Hollywood career went down the tubes, would he?” Kate said.
Stevie giggled. “Maybe we should expose him to thepress! We could leak a story to the Beverly Hills gossip magazines that the great Sir Prize isn’t much of a prize after all.”
Everyone laughed, but Lisa remarked, “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. Bad publicity can ruin a career. And in Hollywood, even animals have careers!”
The four girls wandered into the aisle of the barn. It was time to go get lunch so that they could be back to tack up Stewball for Skye’s afternoon lesson. Carole cast an eye down the row of
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