The Mystery Horse by Gertrude Chandler Warner

scampered everywhere.
    The Aldens scrambled out of the back of the pickup truck, and Benny gave a low whistle when he spied the top of a Ferris wheel. “Wow! I didn’t know there would be rides. It looks just like a carnival!”
    â€œThey always have a few rides at the fair,” Sarah told him, “but the homemade goodies are the best part.”
    The Morgans waved to a young girl leading a pinto pony out of a horse van. “She’s showing her horse in the ring for the very first time,” Sarah said to Violet. “If you want, we can go to one of the competitions. They go on all day long.”
    â€œThat would be wonderful.” Violet clapped her hands together excitedly.
    â€œRemind me to stop by Mrs. Ames’s booth,” Mrs. Morgan said. “I’d like to buy some of those needlepoint key rings she makes.” She smiled at Jessie. “They make wonderful Christmas gifts.”
    â€œLet’s go, everybody,” Mr. Morgan said. He unloaded Danny’s cider from the back of the truck and handed Benny his cantaloupe. “Who’s going to carry the pies?”
    â€œThe Aldens will help me,” Mrs. Morgan said. “Take two each, and nobody drop them!” she pleaded.
    Violet helped arrange the sparkling jelly glasses and pies on a long picnic table covered with bright blue felt. Several people stopped to buy pickled watermelon rind and blueberry jam.
    â€œWe have to pick one of these apple pies to be judged,” Mrs. Morgan said to Violet. “Which one do you think is the best?”
    Violet looked at the pies and pointed to one with a delicate latticework crust. “That one,” she said proudly. She remembered how Mrs. Morgan had taught her to cut the pie crust in thin strips and lay them crisscross over the apples.

    â€œPlease keep an eye on things while I drop it off,” Mrs. Morgan said, heading for the judges’ table.
    Violet was busy for the next hour as people lined up to buy preserves. She had just sold the last jar of peach-ginger preserves when she spotted a tall, dark-haired man walking across the fairgrounds. There was something familiar about his face, and she squinted, concentrating. She knew she had seen him before, and then suddenly it came to her. He looked just like one of the men who had tried to kidnap Wind Dancer! She tried to get a better look at him, but someone drove a pickup truck down the midway, blocking her view.
    She needed help, but who could she ask? Henry had gone back to Sunny Oaks to fetch more cider, and Jessie was helping Sarah sell corn dolls. Then she spotted Benny, clutching a giant wad of pink cotton candy, standing right in front of her!
    â€œBenny!” she cried. She dashed around the table, hugging him in relief.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” His face was sticky from the candy and he tried to wriggle away.
    â€œI need you to help me,” she said, bending down so her face was close to his. “I think I just saw one of the men who tried to steal Wind Dancer.”
    â€œReally? Are you sure?” Benny gulped.
    â€œI think so, but I have to stay here at the booth, so I need you to find out. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, and he’s over by the leather goods booth. It’s the place with all the belts and saddles. If you hurry, he’ll probably still be there.”
    Before she could say another word, Benny handed her his cotton candy and scooted away. His heart pounding, he zigzagged past a boy leading a Shetland pony, and nearly got caught in a line of prize hogs being moved into a pen. Still running, he darted past a popcorn stand and skidded to a stop when he spotted the leather goods booth. There was the man in the cowboy hat! His back was turned to Benny, and he was talking to another man.
    Benny sneaked up to the side of the booth and dropped to his knees. He waited until no one was watching and then dove under the heavy cloth that covered the display table.