The Mystery Horse by Gertrude Chandler Warner Page A

Luckily it drooped almost all the way to the ground, and he knew that no one could see him. The two men were still talking, and Benny crawled quietly toward the sound of their voices.
    â€œI think we should do it at night,” one of the men was saying. “There are too many people around the stable during the day.”
    â€œYou’re right. But I’d sure like to get the key to that stall. It would make things a lot easier.”
    Benny cautiously peered out from the narrow slit between the cloth and the muddy ground. His nose was just inches away from a pair of black leather cowboy boots with silver toes. Those were the same boots the man named Ryan had been wearing the day he tried to steal Wind Dancer!
    Benny scurried backward until he was at the end of the display table and then bolted out from underneath. He ran all the way back to Violet, who was telling the Morgans about the man she’d spotted.
    â€œIt’s them!” Benny gasped to Mr. and Mrs. Morgan and Violet. “I recognized the cowboy boots.”
    â€œLet’s go see,” Mr. Morgan said quickly to his wife. “The children should stay right here.”
    The next half hour passed slowly as Violet and Benny waited for the Morgans to return. Finally Mr. Morgan appeared and rubbed his forehead wearily. “It’s no use,” he said. “We checked the leather goods booth and walked all around the fairgrounds. They’re nowhere in sight.”
    â€œOh, no,” Benny said. “Maybe they saw me and ran away.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it, Benny,” Mr. Morgan said. “You did a good job tipping us off. Now we know they’re going to try again, and we’ll have to be extra careful.”
    At sunset, the Alden children piled into the back of the pickup truck for the ride back to Sunny Oaks. Benny was thrilled because his cantaloupe had won a third-place ribbon, and Jessie and Violet were very excited that their pies and jams had won prizes.
    Wind Dancer was on everyone’s mind, though. That night, back in the bunkhouse, Violet finally mentioned him. “It’s scary to think those men are still around,” she said. “And that they’re going to try again.”
    â€œIf only we could have caught them today, the whole thing would be over,” Henry said.
    â€œMaybe not,” Jessie spoke up. “There might be other people at Sunny Oaks who are working with them.”
    â€œLike Ms. Jefferies?” Benny asked.
    Jessie shrugged. “It could be. Or what about Jed Owens? He said he’s always worked on farms but he sure doesn’t know anything about horses.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?” Henry was suddenly interested.
    â€œViolet and I ran into him in the stable and he was surprised to see a goat there. I had to explain that Arnold sleeps in Oliver’s stall lots of times.”
    Everyone was quiet, thinking the same thing. There was going to be another attempt on Wind Dancer. But who? And when?

CHAPTER 8
    Fire!
    T he next evening, the Morgans invited the guests to a wienie roast at the old pond. “We do this every year right after the fair,” Sarah explained to Jessie. “Everyone roasts their own hot dogs, and then we sit around the camp fire and sing. I guess you could say it’s a Sunny Oaks tradition.” She and Danny were setting out crocks of baked beans and platters of potato salad on a long picnic table. Benny plunked down a giant vat of sauerkraut, and Violet arranged jars of mustard and relish.
    â€œI think the fire’s just about ready,” Henry said. He and Mr. Morgan had built a camp fire from hickory logs and tossed a few pine-cones on top to give it a woodsy scent. “Mmm, it smells good,” Violet said.
    â€œIt’ll make the hot dogs taste even better,” Benny piped up. As usual, he was starving!
    â€œWhy don’t you help yourself, Benny?” Mrs. Morgan said. “The rest of