right. First thing after breakfast, horses need to have their stalls cleaned.
“It would give Red a break and it would be a way of thanking Max for this great MW,” Carole said.
As soon as the riders had stacked their plates and cups, they headed to the barn.
After Lisa took Prancer to the outdoor ring, she gave her stall a careful picking over. At first Lisa had really hated this part of horse care. But now she enjoyed it because Stevie had shown her a special way of moving the pitchfork in a swinging arc that made it feel lighter. When Lisa was done, she pushed the wheelbarrow out to the manure pile behind the barn and dumped it, then loaded it up with fresh wood chips. Lots of stables used straw for bedding, but Max said wood chips stayed dry longer. And, Lisa thought, they had a nice piney smell.
Lisa emptied the wood chips into the center of Prancer’s stall and smoothed them with the back of her rake. At first this had driven her crazy, because just when she thought she had gotten the stall floor neat and flat, Max would point out that the sides were too high and the center was too low, and then she would have to start again. Stevie had shown her how to scrape down the sides and build up the center.
When Lisa was done, she led Prancer back to her stall. The horse nickered in appreciation. The best part of mucking out, Lisa thought, was that the horse really liked a clean stall.
As Lisa walked down the aisle, looking for Stevie and Carole, she passed the door to Nickel’s stall. It looked empty and forlorn. Also, it needed cleaning. Sighing, Lisa went back for the wheelbarrow.
As she entered Nickel’s stall, she thought how much like Nickel the stall was. The hay in the net had been neatly nibbled. The wood chips had been tidily pawed. Nickel was not a pony to make a mess or get overexcited, which was one of the things that made him so good for beginning riders.
But there was something odd on the door. Lisa stopped to look. It was a piece of red yarn. Another one! Whyhadn’t they seen it the day before? She would have to tell Stevie and Carole about this.
Then something else caught her eye—a spot of white on the hook where Nickel’s feed bucket usually hung. It was a folded piece of paper. Lisa picked it off the hook and opened it. There was a poem inside. The poem didn’t seem to make much sense, but Lisa knew it was a clue. This called for a meeting of The Saddle Club!
Casually Lisa strolled to Starlight’s stall. Carole was giving the six-pointed star on his forehead a brushing.
Lisa whispered, “Come to Nickel’s stall right away.”
“No problem,” Carole whispered.
“I’ll get Stevie and meet you there,” Lisa said.
Carole put down her brush and headed over to Nickel’s stall at a slow walk, whistling as she went.
When Stevie and Lisa arrived, Carole noticed that Lisa’s cheeks were pink with excitement.
“Listen to this,” Lisa whispered, pulling the piece of paper out of her pocket.
East is east, and west is west
Whichever riders are the best
Will know there’s only one place I could be.
Where once there grew a different type of tree
I’ve hidden your pony.
If you should want him back
You’ll need no lack of bravery.
The way is hard, that’s plain to see.
Water twice, and hills to climb
(I don’t know how to rhyme this line!)
If Nickel isn’t found by Sunday’s light
(The strong light of day, not morning and not night)
I claim a forfeit, as is my right.
You’ll owe your master, or D.C.,
A whole day’s worth of misery.
“That’s a big help,” Stevie murmured.
Carole and Stevie read the paper again, and then read it a third time.
“It definitely means something,” Stevie whispered. “I guess.”
“I don’t have a clue, but it definitely is a clue,” said Carole with a giggle.
“A major clue,” Stevie said.
“Maybe we should show it to the other riders,” Carole said.
“Carole!” Stevie said. “First you have us mucking out the stalls, and now
“It would give Red a break and it would be a way of thanking Max for this great MW,” Carole said.
As soon as the riders had stacked their plates and cups, they headed to the barn.
After Lisa took Prancer to the outdoor ring, she gave her stall a careful picking over. At first Lisa had really hated this part of horse care. But now she enjoyed it because Stevie had shown her a special way of moving the pitchfork in a swinging arc that made it feel lighter. When Lisa was done, she pushed the wheelbarrow out to the manure pile behind the barn and dumped it, then loaded it up with fresh wood chips. Lots of stables used straw for bedding, but Max said wood chips stayed dry longer. And, Lisa thought, they had a nice piney smell.
Lisa emptied the wood chips into the center of Prancer’s stall and smoothed them with the back of her rake. At first this had driven her crazy, because just when she thought she had gotten the stall floor neat and flat, Max would point out that the sides were too high and the center was too low, and then she would have to start again. Stevie had shown her how to scrape down the sides and build up the center.
When Lisa was done, she led Prancer back to her stall. The horse nickered in appreciation. The best part of mucking out, Lisa thought, was that the horse really liked a clean stall.
As Lisa walked down the aisle, looking for Stevie and Carole, she passed the door to Nickel’s stall. It looked empty and forlorn. Also, it needed cleaning. Sighing, Lisa went back for the wheelbarrow.
As she entered Nickel’s stall, she thought how much like Nickel the stall was. The hay in the net had been neatly nibbled. The wood chips had been tidily pawed. Nickel was not a pony to make a mess or get overexcited, which was one of the things that made him so good for beginning riders.
But there was something odd on the door. Lisa stopped to look. It was a piece of red yarn. Another one! Whyhadn’t they seen it the day before? She would have to tell Stevie and Carole about this.
Then something else caught her eye—a spot of white on the hook where Nickel’s feed bucket usually hung. It was a folded piece of paper. Lisa picked it off the hook and opened it. There was a poem inside. The poem didn’t seem to make much sense, but Lisa knew it was a clue. This called for a meeting of The Saddle Club!
Casually Lisa strolled to Starlight’s stall. Carole was giving the six-pointed star on his forehead a brushing.
Lisa whispered, “Come to Nickel’s stall right away.”
“No problem,” Carole whispered.
“I’ll get Stevie and meet you there,” Lisa said.
Carole put down her brush and headed over to Nickel’s stall at a slow walk, whistling as she went.
When Stevie and Lisa arrived, Carole noticed that Lisa’s cheeks were pink with excitement.
“Listen to this,” Lisa whispered, pulling the piece of paper out of her pocket.
East is east, and west is west
Whichever riders are the best
Will know there’s only one place I could be.
Where once there grew a different type of tree
I’ve hidden your pony.
If you should want him back
You’ll need no lack of bravery.
The way is hard, that’s plain to see.
Water twice, and hills to climb
(I don’t know how to rhyme this line!)
If Nickel isn’t found by Sunday’s light
(The strong light of day, not morning and not night)
I claim a forfeit, as is my right.
You’ll owe your master, or D.C.,
A whole day’s worth of misery.
“That’s a big help,” Stevie murmured.
Carole and Stevie read the paper again, and then read it a third time.
“It definitely means something,” Stevie whispered. “I guess.”
“I don’t have a clue, but it definitely is a clue,” said Carole with a giggle.
“A major clue,” Stevie said.
“Maybe we should show it to the other riders,” Carole said.
“Carole!” Stevie said. “First you have us mucking out the stalls, and now
Similar Books
