Pony Problems
“Maybe Amanda got paint on the ground and Buttons stepped in it?” George asked.
“I don’t think so,” Bess replied. “Amanda was outside the fence painting. Buttons was inside with the other animals.”
“Weird.” Nancy tapped her temple with the pencil eraser. Since Mrs. Fayne knew about ponies, Nancy asked her, “Can Shetland ponies jump?”
“Do you think Buttons might have jumped over the petting zoo fence?” Bess cut in. “Maybe he dragged his hoof on the rail at the last second?”
“I was just thinking.” Nancy shrugged. “Jumping would explain the paint. And possibly solve the mystery.”]
Mrs. Fayne gave Buttons a final pat on the back and stepped away. “We didn’t have Shetlands on our farm in Ohio.” She came over to where the girls were standing. “I don’t know how high Shetlands can jump. They’re different from other ponies.” A truck engine vroomed as it turned onto George’s street. “Here comes Mr. Johnson. Why don’t you ask him?”
Mr. Johnson parked the truck and pony trailer in front of George’s house. The girls waited for him to get his rope and tie it around Buttons’s neck. Before he put the pony in the trailer, Nancy showed him the paint marking on Buttons’s hoof.
“Can Shetland ponies jump?” George asked.
“They can,” Mr. Johnson answered. For a second, Nancy thought they’d solved the mystery. “But that’s why I built the extra-tall fence around the animal pen.” Nancy recalled noticing that the fence was above her head. “Shetland ponies can’t jump that high,” Mr. Johnson said. “Nope. There’s no way Buttons jumped over that fence.”
The zoo owner put Buttons in the trailer for the ride back to the petting zoo. “Why don’t you come back to the petting zoo again today? We’re open all day on Sundays, and I have a reporter from the newspaper coming. You can tell her about the Clue Crew and how you are working to solve this mystery.”
Mrs. Fayne agreed to take the girls back to the petting zoo as long as she could take George’s two-year-old brother Scott along.
“The petting zoo’s the perfect place to bring Scott,” Mr. Johnson told her. “He’s going to love it. And because of the trouble Buttons caused this morning, I’ll give him a ride on the pony for free.”
“Your brother is a nut,” Nancy said to George. George laughed.
Little Scott was riding Buttons, clapping his hands, totally excited to be on the back of the pony. Mrs. Fayne kept telling him to hold on, and Mr. Johnson repeatedly showed him how to hold on to the pony’s long mane. They had gone outside the animal pen and were walking around a small track Mr. Johnson had made just beyond the barn.
The reporter was there. She was taking pictures of Scott on the pony. Nancy had overheard the reporter ask permission from Mrs. Fayne to take a few pictures for the article.
As soon as Scott’s ride was over, Mr. Johnson came and introduced the girls to Sally Walton, the newspaper reporter. “Ms. Walton is going to write a nice long article,” Mr. Johnson told them.
“That’s right,” Ms. Walton agreed. “Once I heard about Buttons and how he keeps escaping, well, I thought, this is a great story!” She told them that the article would be a whole page with pictures.
“Isn’t that terrific?” Mr. Johnson asked, full of excitement. “After people read the article, everyone will want to come see Buttons. He’ll be a celebrity. Finally, people will fill up my petting zoo!”
Mr. Johnson told Ms. Walton all about the Clue Crew and how they were helping to solve the mystery.
“I need to talk to Mr. Johnson for a few minutes,” Ms. Walton told them. “But will you girls hang around? If it’s okay with your parents, I’d love to take some pictures of you for the paper and interview you for the article.”
“You bet!” Bess, George, and Nancy said at the exact same time. Mrs. Walton told the girls that their parents would have to fill out permission slips to print their pictures in the newspaper. She handed the forms out and asked the girls to have their parents fax the forms back to her later in the day.
“No problem,” Bess said, pocketing her form. George’s mom could sign the paper now, since she had brought them to the petting zoo.
Nancy tucked her slip in her pocket too.
“While we’re waiting,” George suggested, “let’s look for more clues.”
They were searching around the animal pen for anything that seemed odd or out of place, when Bess stood up suddenly and slapped her hand against her thigh.
Hearing the noise, Nancy and George hurried over.
“Did you find a clue?” Nancy asked.
“No,” Bess responded. “But I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided something important.” She paused. “Mr. Johnson is a suspect.”
Nancy opened her notebook and asked, “What gives you that idea, Bess?”
“Well.” Bess bit her lip as she thought. “What if Mr. Johnson is letting Buttons out on purpose? He said the petting zoo isn’t doing enough business. I think maybe he let Buttons out so that he could call the newspaper and tell them Buttons is escaping.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “I bet the newspaper wouldn’t come to see a regular pony. Having an escaping pony could be a good thing for Mr. Johnson and the petting zoo.”
Nancy turned to the page in her notebook where she had written a reminder about how there weren’t many people at the petting zoo. She looked around. It was a sunny Sunday and there still weren’t very many people visiting.
“I think Bess might be right,” Nancy said at last. She wrote Mr. Johnson’s name on the suspect list. “Mr. Johnson has the key to the pen’s gate. He could be letting Buttons out on purpose.”
George scratched her head. “I’m not so sure. I don’t think he likes Buttons roaming around town by himself. It’s not safe. Plus, he asked us to help him solve the mystery. Suspects usually don’t ask for help.”
“Good point,” Nancy agreed. “But I think we’d better keep him on the suspect list until we’re sure.”
“Hey, check it out.” Bess suddenly pointed off in the distance. “There’s Amanda Johnson.” Amanda was over at the pen fence, painting the blue rail this time. “Should we try to talk to her again?”
“Let’s ask her if she knows about the red paint on Buttons’s hoof,” George suggested.
When they reached Amanda, she was finished painting the rail. There was a smudge of blue paint on her nose.
“Please talk to us,” Nancy said. “We want to be your friends.”
Amanda didn’t say anything. She just gathered up her stuff and headed to the barn.
Not willing to give up, the girls walked with her and waited silently while Amanda put her painting supplies away.
As Amanda shut the barn door, George said, “Wouldn’t you like to have some friends in River Heights?”
“No.” Amanda put her hands on her hips. “I don’t want any friends in River Heights.” She looked seriously at Nancy, Bess, and George. “I have friends in Hailey Town. I don’t like it here. I want to go back there.”
“You can talk!” Bess said, surprised. “Oops, I didn’t mean to get so excited.” She stepped closer to Amanda and said in a soft voice, “I bet if you tried harder you might like River Heights. It’s a really nice place.”
Tears welled up in Amanda’s eyes. She backed away from Bess. “I’ll never like it here. No matter what! I never had to paint the fence as a chore in Hailey Town!” She wiped her tears on the back of her hand. “If Buttons would just go away and stay away, no one would come to the petting zoo. Dad would have to sell the farm and we could go back home.” And before the girls could say anything to make Amanda feel better, she took off running toward the house.
The girls decided not to follow.
“This isn’t going so well,” George told Nancy and Bess.
“She doesn’t want to be our friend, and we forgot to ask her about the red paint.” Bess frowned.
Nancy took a breath and let it out slowly. “Can we be friends with a suspect?” she asked at
last.
George squinted curiously at Nancy. “Why is she a suspect?”
Nancy took out her purple notebook and flipped through the pages. When she found the suspects column, she answered, “Amanda wishes Buttons would go away forever. She knows how important Buttons is to the petting zoo. Maybe she thinks they can move back to Hailey Town if he disappears.”
“You think she’s letting Buttons out, hoping he’ll never come back?” Bess was shocked. “Amanda doesn’t seem that mean.”
Nancy shrugged. “Maybe she just really wants to move back to Hailey Town.”
“Amanda could easily get the key to the animal pen off the hook,” George added.
Nancy let her eyes drift toward the house. She could now see Amanda on the front porch steps at her house. “I can’t believe we already have three suspects. We’re getting really close to solving this mystery!”
Ms. Walton called the girls together just inside the petting zoo gate. “I have a few questions to ask you,” she said. “When did you decide to investigate this mystery?”
Nancy had begun to answer when George’s brother Scott ran past. He was chasing a sheep, which was doing its best to run away. Scott and the sheep went around Nancy twice. Then Scott took a shortcut—right between Nancy’s legs!
“Oof,” Nancy grunted as she stumbled backward in surprise. George caught her just before she hit the ground.
“Sorry,” George apologized for her brother. “Scott can be such a maniac sometimes.”
“It’s okay,” Nancy began, “I’m used to tripping, stumbling, bumping into stuff, and falling.” She glanced over her shoulder at Scott. “Thanks for catching me, George.” Nancy moved her legs closer together so there wasn’t any room between them, in case Scott came running by again.
Out of the corner of her eye, George could see that Scott had given up on the sheep and was now chasing a goat. “Poor goat.” George shook her head.
The girls laughed.
“Now then,” Ms. Walton got back on track. “Tell me how you heard about the pony popping up in town.”
“Well,” Bess began this time. “We all heard about Ms. Waters”—Bess began to giggle—“and how she ran down the street in her nightgown.” Her eyes began to water, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She was trying to hold back her laughter. “She was chasing—” It was no use. Bess started laughing so hard, she snorted.
George took over the story. “Then, on Saturday, Buttons came to Nancy’s house.” George would have said more, but Scott hurried by. He was quacking like a duck and pretending to fly. “Mom!” George called to Mrs. Fayne. “Make him stop.”
“He’s just playing,” Mrs. Fayne replied. “He’s not I hurting anyone.”
“He almost hurt Nancy,” George complained.
“But I’m okay,” Nancy put in.
Mrs. Fayne went over to Scott and told him to calm down.
“I’m a duck,” Scott replied. “I live at the zoo.” He pointed at the pond and the birds.
“Those are chickens,” George told him. “Not ducks.”
“Quack,” Scott said. “Quack. Quack.” He was flapping his arms again. He climbed up on a bale of hay and leaped off. “Quack,” he repeated as he landed in the soft hay on the petting zoo floor. He climbed back up to do it again. “Now I’m a goat,” Scott announced, making a maa sound.
“Mom,” George moaned, “he’s still bugging us. We can’t finish the interview if Scott keeps interrupting.”
“Looks like he’s busy now,” Mrs. Fayne remarked as Scott struggled to climb back on top of the bale of hay. “I’ll keep my little goat over here while you girls talk to Ms. Walton.” This time, when Scott jumped, Mrs. Fayne caught him and swung him around. “Maa,” she said to her son and set him back on the bale.
Ms. Walton asked the girls a few more questions about the pony. Then she asked them how the investigation was going.
“Pretty good,” Nancy responded. She pulled out her purple notebook but didn’t open it. “We have a few suspects and a whole bunch of clues.”
“How are you going to solve this case?” Ms. Walton asked.
“Well,” George answered, “we’re going to head over to Nancy’s house today. I need to input our notes into the computer. Then we’ll work together to solve the mystery.”
Just then, Stacy arrived with an apple for Buttons. “Hi,” she said to the girls. “Who are you talking to?” Stacy looked at the reporter.
George introduced her to Ms. Walton.
Mr. Johnson walked over to them. “Let’s take a picture for the paper!” he said. “It’ll be great. After this, everyone will want to come and ride Buttons, the famous pony!”
Bess, George, and Nancy gathered together in the front row for the picture. Buttons was on the side, with Stacy holding his reins, of course. In the back were Mr. Johnson and a very unhappy Amanda, who had been forced to be in the photo.
“Smile,” Ms. Walton said, looking though the camera lens.
“Fantastic,” Bess grumbled. She leaned over and whispered to George and Nancy, “In tomorrow’s newspaper there will be a photo of the Clue Crew standing with their three suspects!”
It was Sunday afternoon. The girls were in Nancy’s bedroom, talking while George booted up Nancy’s computer.
“Detective work is fun,” Bess said as she flopped backward onto Nancy’s bed. The purple covers were crinkled beneath her. “But it’s hard work, too.” She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest.
Nancy got out her purple notebook and flipped through the pages.
“Computer’s ready,” George announced. “I started a new file for this case.”
“Great.” Nancy looked down at what she’d written. “We have three suspects. Stacy Quinn, Mr. Johnson, and Amanda Johnson.”
From over at Nancy’s desk, George stopped typing. “It’s hard to think of them as suspects because we really like all of them. It’s a bummer to think that one of them is letting Buttons out of the animal pen.”
There was a knock on Nancy’s door.
“Come in,” Nancy called instead of answering the door herself.
“Hello, girls,” Hannah said as she walked into the room, carrying a white plastic tray. “Why are you looking so sad?”
“We aren’t sad,” Nancy answered. “We just like all our suspects.”
“Take a break,” Hannah said as she set the tray on top of Nancy’s dresser. “I made cookies. Eat. Drink some milk. Things aren’t always what they seem. Did you review your clues?”
“Not yet,” Nancy answered. “We were talking about the suspects first.”
“After your snack, check your clues.” Hannah walked to the door. “You girls know,” she reminded them as she closed the door behind her, “that good detectives always think about their clues.”
Each girl ate two chocolate cookies and drank a glass of milk. Full and happy, they were ready to get back to work.
“Clues,” Nancy said, reading the column in her notebook. “Buttons doesn’t like hay. There is a lot of hay outside the pen. Then, there’s the red paint on Buttons’s hoof.”
Suddenly, Bess sat up on the bed. “I just realized something. Stacy can’t be a suspect. The key to the lock is kept in Mr. Johnson’s house. She doesn’t have a way to open the gate.”
“Good thinking,” Nancy cheered. “I think we should go talk to Stacy again. Let’s ask her if she’s letting the pony out. That way we can cross her off our list for sure.”
As a rule, the girls were only allowed to walk five blocks from Nancy’s house. Luckily, Stacy lived three blocks away.
The girls were there a few minutes later.
George knocked. “Who’s there?” Stacy asked through the closed door.
“Nancy Drew and the Clue Crew,” Nancy replied. Stacy immediately opened the door.
“Hi.” Nancy didn’t waste any time. “Are you letting Buttons out at night? You said you would keep him if he showed up at you house.”
“Sure, I’d love to keep him, but that’s just a dream.” Stacy laughed. “Buttons belongs to Mr. Johnson and has a good life at the petting zoo. I can visit there any time I want. Sure I wish Buttons lived at my house, but where would I put him? In the living room?”
“He’d probably enjoy staying in the kitchen,” Bess put in, and all the girls chuckled.
Nancy thought of an important question that Stacy could easily answer. “Mrs. Fayne told us that Shetland ponies are different from other ponies. Why?”
Stacy didn’t even pause to think about the answer. She quickly said, “In many ways Shetlands are more like goats than ponies.” Just then, Stacy’s mom called from upstairs. “I’d better go. We’re leaving to visit my grandparents on the other side of town. I have to change into nicer clothes. See ya at school tomorrow.”
Back in Nancy’s bedroom, Bess suggested, “Let’s cross her off the suspect list.” Nancy got out her notebook and put a purple line though Stacy’s name. George deleted her name from the computer file.
“Only two suspects left,” George remarked. “If Stacy isn’t letting Buttons go, who is?”
Monday morning the phone rang at Nancy’s house. Nancy was already awake and ready for school, even though it wasn’t time to leave yet. All night her brain had been working on the mystery. She hadn’t slept very well.
Nancy was comparing ponies and goats. Buttons made a neighing sound, like a pony. He was short like a goat, but other than that, he looked like a pony. Goats ate anything. So did Buttons. Except hay. Buttons didn’t like hay.
Her head was spinning from thinking so much.
When the phone rang, she decided that since she was up, she’d answer it.
“Hello, Drew residence,” Nancy said politely, just like Hannah had taught her.
“Nancy?” It was Bess. “You aren’t going to believe this!”
Nancy glanced at the clock. It was really early. “Should I guess? Because I bet I know why you’re calling. There’s a four-legged visitor at your house, right?”