Show Judge by Bonnie Bryant

two of them had been thick as thieves all day, and it seemed that Lisa had constantly been running to Carole for advice. Now that she thought about it, Stevie wasn’t at all sure it was because Lisa had actually needed the advice. Maybe she was trying to score points with Carole. Of course, Carole would be loving the attention; she wasonly human. No doubt Lisa would have some gold stars by her name that day in Carole’s little notebook.
    Stevie stopped, put her hands on her hips, and glared back the way she had come. That was another thing! She had worked really hard trying to get Corey ready for the show. They had made some good progress, but it seemed that every time something had gone wrong, she’d turned around to find Carole scribbling in that stupid book of hers. It just wasn’t fair! The whole thing had irritated her so much that she’d decided she’d rather not have ice cream with Carole and Lisa as usual, so she’d slipped away without telling them she was leaving.
    As she stumped along, her mind turned to a more urgent problem: her parents’ anniversary present. With less than two weeks to the big day, she and her brothers were nowhere near to coming up with the perfect present. This morning she had bounded out of bed, relieved to know the problem had been solved; this afternoon they were right back where they had started. She wanted to scream!
    “N O , J ASMINE , YOU ’ RE not pulling it tight enough!”
    For the better part of an hour, Lisa had been patiently trying to teach the girl how to braid her pony’smane. “If you don’t get the base tight, it’s going to fall on the wrong side.”
    “But it’s so hard,” Jasmine complained for the umpteenth time. “Why can’t we let it fall on the side it wants to?”
    “I told you, it’s traditional for the braids to be on the
off
side of the horse’s neck, the opposite side you mount on, even if Outlaw’s mane naturally flops to the other side.” Lisa could understand Jasmine’s frustration. Outlaw’s thick, bushy mane wasn’t making the job any easier. “Try using a little more setting gel and water,” she suggested.
    “Can’t we start with his tail?” Jasmine asked hopefully. “That doesn’t have to fall in any direction but down, right?”
    “There’s no point in learning how to do the tail if you can’t do the mane,” Lisa said.
    “Why not?” Jasmine asked as she continued to struggle with a braid.
    “Because you can ride Outlaw in a show with just his mane braided, or you can ride him with his mane and tail braided, but you can’t show your horse with only the tail braided.”
    “Why not?” Jasmine demanded again.
    “It’s tradition!” Lisa snapped. She looked despairinglyat the messy tangle of braids decorating Outlaw’s neck. He bore more of a resemblance to Medusa than to a show pony. The idea of giving up on this particular aspect of Jasmine’s training tempted Lisa. It certainly wasn’t required. However, a braided mane and tail were the final touch to a formal turnout for a hunter, and she was determined that her charges were going to look their absolute best at the Horse Wise rally. Even if it killed all three of them!
    C AROLE PULLED THE heavy black curtain more tightly around her and stared out through a tiny opening in the folds at the locker area, waiting for someone to take the bait. The more she had thought about someone invading her private things, the more it had made her angry. The angrier she got, the less she had been able to think about anything else. It had even interfered with her judging duties, because every time she walked up to a student, part of her mind wondered,
Are you the one?
    Realizing she wasn’t going to be able to concentrate until she solved this mystery, she had resolved to set a trap. Late in the afternoon, while many of the riders were winding down their lessons, she went around to say her good-byes. As she did she made sure to mention that she was leaving and that she was so