The Mystery Horse
In the meantime, Henry and Danny had been pitching bales of hay from a flatbed onto a conveyer belt that carried them to the barn loft. The square bales were much heavier than they looked, and Danny pitched one every five seconds. Henry found it hard work.
“I think we’ve done enough for the morning,” Danny said. He didn’t even seem tired, and Henry wondered if he was quitting early on his account.
“Are you sure?” Henry asked.
“I’m sure,” Danny said, jumping down from the truck. “We could pitch hay all day and still not finish the job.”
“Why do you need so much of it?” Henry asked. As far as he could tell, there was enough hay in the loft to last forever!
“It goes a lot quicker than you think,” Danny explained. “The cows eat twenty pounds of hay every single day during the cold months, and the horses eat hay, too.” He gestured to the fields behind the barn. “It takes a whole acre of hay just to feed two of our cows for the winter.”
“I understand,” Henry said, wiping his face with his bandana. He was glad that he had worn gloves. The bales of hay were spiky and had scratched his upper arms.
“We always stop working at noontime, anyway,” Danny explained. “The guests need a break and so do we.” He glanced at Henry who was rubbing his aching arms. “Don’t feel bad, Henry. My arms hurt, too!”
When Jessie finished feeding Lamby, she discovered that the kitchen was empty. Mrs. Morgan and Danny had already passed out box lunches, and everyone was eating outside at picnic tables covered with bright red-and-white-checked cloths. They had left Jessie’s lunch on the kitchen counter—a cheese-and-tomato sandwich, a glass of lemonade, and a thick wedge of chocolate cake.
She rinsed out Lamby’s bottle and was about to bring her lunch outside when a magazine rack caught her eye. Would Mrs. Morgan mind if she borrowed a magazine to read while she ate her sandwich? Probably not, she decided. She thumbed through the pile and settled on a new issue of Horse Sense. Like her sister, she loved horses. She picked up her cheese sandwich and carried it to the kitchen table.
Jessie read about a Thoroughbred named Swaps, a Kentucky Derby winner. The article explained that the Thoroughbred is the result of many generations of careful breeding and is one of the fastest horses in the world. She finished the article and was flipping through the magazine when she gasped in surprise. There was a full-page picture of Star, the horse she had seen in the stable last night!
Except his name wasn’t Star, according to the magazine. It was Wind Dancer. Jessie’s hand trembled as she took a closer look. Wind Dancer was a beautiful chestnut-brown, with a white star on his forehead—just like Star. Yes, she was almost positive that Wind Dancer and Star were the same horse. But why would the Morgans change his name? And what would he be doing at a place like Sunny Oaks?
The caption beneath the picture said that Wind Dancer was a famous racehorse, and had a wonderful future ahead of him. He came from a distinguished line of racehorses. He was sixteen hands high and weighed eleven hundred pounds. Violet remembered the way the chestnut Thoroughbred had pranced into the barn, his head held proudly. He was every inch a champion and he knew it.
The question was: did the Morgans know it? And if they knew who he really was, why did they lie about him? Violet rolled up the magazine as tightly as she could and headed outside. She had to find Henry and the others and tell them what she had discovered.
CHAPTER 5
Stop, Thief!
Jessie was relieved to find Henry, Violet, and Benny sitting apart from the group, under the shade of an apple tree. They had finished eating, and Henry was whittling a chunk of white oak with his pocketknife.
“You missed lunch,” Benny said the moment Jessie sat down.
“I ate inside,” she said hurriedly. Then she showed them the magazine. “Look what I found in the house.” She flipped to the picture of Wind Dancer and waited for their reaction.
“Oh, what a great horse,” Benny said.
“Hey, that’s funny,” Violet said. “He looks a little like that horse we saw last night.”
Henry leaned over for a closer look and then shook his head in amazement. “He looks exactly like the horse we saw.” His eyes met Jessie’s. “They could be twins.”
“I think it is the same horse,” Jessie said. “The Morgans call him Star, but he’s really Wind Dancer. He’s a champion racehorse.”
“Do you really think so?” Violet asked. She peered at the magazine again. “You know, I think it is the same horse. But what’s he doing at Sunny Oaks?”
“Maybe the Morgans kidnapped him,” Benny said. “Or horsenapped him.”
“I don’t think so,” Henry said slowly. “It could be they don’t know who he really is. Maybe they’re boarding him for someone.”
“But it seems like they’re hiding him,” Violet said. She still hated the idea that the chestnut horse was cooped up all alone in the barn, whoever he was. “And I didn’t believe it when they said they had to keep him away from the other horses.”
“Racehorses are always around lots of other horses,” Jessie pointed out.
“That’s right,” Benny said, his eyes wide. He was getting more excited by the minute. He loved solving mysteries!
“What should we do?” Violet’s soft eyes were serious. “Should we say something to the Morgans?”
Henry thought for a moment. “Not just yet,” he said finally. “Let’s give it a little time and see what happens. And let’s try to get a look at that horse again.”
“Good idea.” Jessie was about to say more, but she spotted Daisy racing across the yard toward them.
“Hey, Jessie and Violet!” the little girl shouted. “Want to come with me? I’m going to feed Oliver.” She held up a bag of sliced apples and raisins, Oliver’s favorite treat.
Jessie and Violet exchanged a look as they got to their feet. “It looks like she’s not afraid of horses anymore,” Jessie said. Violet smiled.
It was mid-afternoon when Mr. Morgan stopped Henry on his way to the cattle shed. “Need to talk to you for a minute, son,” the farmer said.
“Sure,” Henry answered.
“I need a little favor. Mrs. Morgan wants to go into town to set up a booth for the fair. Daisy and the kids are coming with us, and Ms. Jefferies went for a walk around the lake. I wondered if you’d look after things here for me.”
“I’ll be glad to,” Henry said. “Is there anything special you want me to do?”
Mr. Morgan started to say something and then stopped. “Well, not really. Just keep an eye on the farm, that’s all.” He nodded and moved off before Henry could ask any more questions. Puzzled, Henry headed for his last chore of the day, pitching fresh straw into the shed.
An hour later, Henry was enjoying a tall glass of lemonade when he looked up in surprise. A car pulling a horse trailer was rumbling up the main road. Mr. Morgan hadn’t said anything about visitors. Henry quickly crossed the yard and stood in front of the main house. But the car roared past him, blowing up clouds of dust. It was headed straight for the stable!
Henry took off at a run, and nearly collided with Violet and Jessie who were carrying a burlap bag of chicken feed between them.
“What’s your hurry?” Jessie said, laughing. She lost her grip on the bag, and some chicken feed spilled on the ground.
“No time to explain,” Henry gasped. “Just follow me.” He was panting when he reached the stable, and he took several deep breaths. The car had pulled right up in front of the stable, and two men were trying to open the padlocked door.
“Wouldn’t you know it? It’s locked up tight,” one man said disgustedly to his partner.
“I told you to bring the crowbar, Hank. Only a fool would leave a stable unlocked.”
“Well, we’d better think of something quick, before they get back,” the man named Hank said. “It looked like they were heading into town, but we don’t know how long they’ll stay there.”
Henry decided it was time to speak up. “Ma
y I help you with something?” His tone was polite, but firm.
“Who are you, boy?” Hank looked questioningly at Henry.
“I’m Henry Alden.” Hank edged closer, but Henry stood his ground. He noticed that both men were tall with dark hair, and they were dressed casually. The one who hung back was wearing expensive black cowboy boots with silver toes.
“What do you want?” Henry asked. He knew without turning around that Violet and Jessie had come up behind him.
There was a long pause while the two men looked at each other. Finally the one with the silver-toed boots moved toward the children. “We’re here to pick up one of the horses,” he said casually.
“Which one?” The words were out before Violet even realized she had spoken.
“Why, the big chestnut one, little girl,” Hank said. He smiled, but Violet thought his eyes looked hard and cold. “Do you know which one we mean?”
Violet shook her head. Of course she knew which horse he was talking about, but she decided to say nothing.
“How about you?” Hank moved past Henry to stand in front of Jessie. “Have you seen a big chestnut horse with a star on his face?” Jessie shook her head, and the man threw up his hands in disgust. He turned to his partner. “Well, now what do we do, Ryan?”
Ryan tried the padlocked door again. The aging wood creaked a little, but the lock held. “There must be some way in here,” he muttered. He walked back to Henry. “That just leaves you. I bet you could figure out a way to get in the stable. Maybe you even have a key.”
Henry didn’t flinch. “Why are you here?” His voice was strong, but his heart was beating fast.
“Oh, we should have explained that,” Hank said. “We’re here . . . ” He paused and glanced at Ryan.
“We’re here to take one of the horses to the veterinarian. The big one with the star . . . he’s got a bad foot.”
“The veterinarian?” Mr. Morgan hadn’t said anything about a horse going to the vet’s, and Henry was more suspicious than ever.
“Well, you’ll have to come back tomorrow,” Henry said firmly.
“Now that’s not such a good idea,” Ryan said thoughtfully. “The poor horse must be suffering. He really should be treated right away.”
Violet glanced at the horse trailer behind the car. It was burgundy-colored and there was no name on it. “What’s the name of the veterinarian?”
Hank scratched his head. “Well, that’s easy. It’s Doc, uh, Doc . . .”
“Doc Henderson,” Ryan said smoothly. “Maybe you’ve heard of him.”
Violet shook her head. She was suspicious, too. What did the men want with Wind Dancer?
Jessie turned as Benny scampered over to them. He looked at the shiny horse trailer. “Neat!” he exclaimed. “Is there a horse inside?”
“Not yet,” Hank said. “I don’t suppose you know how to get into the stables, do you?”
Benny looked at the padlocked door and shook his head. “No, you’ll have to wait until the Morgans get home. They should be here any minute.”
Violet wanted to hug him. That was exactly the right thing to say!
Hank gave a worried look to his partner. “Maybe we should come back another time,” he said, backing toward the car.
“I think we’ll have to,” Ryan replied. He had his car keys in his hand and seemed eager to be on his way.
“That would be a good idea,” Henry said firmly.
He stared at Henry for a long minute. “We’ll be back.” He was scowling and his voice was cold.
The moment the car rumbled back down the drive, Violet turned to Henry. “What was that all about?” she asked. “Do you think they were here to kidnap Wind Dancer?”
“Something’s going on,” Henry told her. “We have to let the Morgans know right away. Wind Dancer could be in real danger.”
As soon as the Morgans pickup truck pulled up in the driveway, all four Aldens hurried over. Mr. and Mrs. Morgan were busily unloading some bags of grain from the truck.
“Well, it looks like we have a welcoming committee,” Mrs. Morgan said, smiling.
“We have something really important to talk to you about,” Henry told her. “In private.”
Mr. Morgan looked serious. “Come inside the house, children.” He waited until everyone was settled in the den. “Now what’s this all about?”
“We know about Wind Dancer,” Jessie blurted out.
“You call him Star, but we know who he really is!” Violet chimed in.
“Some men were here today to steal him!” Benny said, his eyes wide. “But we stopped them just in time.”
Mrs. Morgan put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no!” she cried.
“Slow down,” Mr. Morgan said. “Now, Henry, start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened.”
Henry told him about the men trying the padlocked door, and he gave a good description of the car and the horse trailer. When he finished Mr. Morgan shook his head.
“I guess I should have been honest with you last night,” he said. “I lied when I said the horse was named Star.”
“Then Star really is Wind Dancer!” Jessie said. “I knew it the moment I saw his picture in Horse Sense.”
“We’re keeping his identity a secret to protect him,” Mrs. Morgan told her. “He was nearly stolen last month, and his owners wanted a nice safe place to board him for a couple of weeks. Sunny Oaks seemed like the perfect spot.” She shook her head sadly. “But now the thieves are after him again.”
“What can we do to help?” Henry asked.
“Just don’t tell anyone what you know,” Mr. Morgan said. “And I’ll keep him hidden in that back stall as much as I can.”
“Doesn’t he ever get out?” Violet asked. “I feel so sorry for him.”
Mr. Morgan smiled at her. “Now don’t worry about him. I make sure he gets some exercise. I take him out every other night on the old bridle path that runs around the pond.” He paused. “I suppose I’m taking a chance, but I wait until it’s dark, so no one can spot us.”
“We’ll have to be more careful than ever, now that there’s been a second attempt,” Mrs. Morgan pointed out.
“We’ll do whatever we can to help you,” Henry offered.
“You can count on us!” Violet piped up.
“I’m glad that you know the truth,” Mrs. Morgan said. “And thank you for what you did today. That took some quick thinking.”
“Yes, you kids did a great job,” Mr. Morgan added. “Wind Dancer is safe, thanks to you.”
CHAPTER 6
The Barn Raising
A few days later, Benny was working with Sarah in the vegetable patch when he had a great idea. Why couldn’t he try for a prize at the Cooperstown Fair? Jessie and Violet had already decided to make a blueberry pie for the baking division, and Henry had offered to help Danny with his apple cider project. Unless Benny thought of something fast, he’d be left out!
“Sarah,” he said, looking up from his weeding, “what do you have to do to win a prize at the fair?”
Sarah picked a ripe green pepper and tossed it into her basket before answering. “Well, you have to make something or grow something. But whatever you do has to be the biggest or the best.” She peered at him from under her straw hat. “Why?”
“I wanted to enter something,” he said firmly. “But I haven’t figured out what.”
“Well, just look around you,” she told him. “You could make a sweet potato pie . . . ” She laughed when she saw his expression. “It’s good. It tastes just like pumpkin pie.”
Benny shook his head.
“Hmmm, let me see. You could make a batch of pickled watermelon rind,” Sarah suggested. “Mom would help you.”
“Ugh. That sounds even worse!” Benny said.
“It’s delicious,” Sarah told him. “You cut up the rind in little pieces and cook it. When you’re finished, it tastes so sweet, you’ll think it’s candy. We make it every year.”
Benny sigh
ed. This was going to be much harder than he had thought. “Maybe I could grow something,” he suggested.
“You don’t have much time. The fair is only three days away,” Sarah reminded him. “Well, maybe you could find something that’s ready to harvest. If it looks really big and healthy, you could pick it and give it a try.”
“I could? Are you sure nobody would mind?” Benny was beaming. He had spotted a giant cantaloupe the day before that would be perfect.
“I’m sure,” Sarah said. “If you can find it, you can enter it.”
Later that afternoon, Benny was weeding chives in the herb garden with Daisy. She didn’t seem to know anything about herbs, and he had to point out the chive plants from the rows of basil and parsley.
“I’m entering corn dolls in the fair,” Daisy said proudly. “I’m using a clothespin for their body and corn leaves for their skirts. They look just like hula dancers. What are you going to enter?”
“I’ve got a big cantaloupe,” he said. “I bet it will win a blue ribbon for me.”
“Really? How big is it?” Daisy asked.
“Big,” Benny said. “And it’s growing bigger by the second.” He squinted at the sky like a real farmer. “All I need is a couple of more sunny days.”
Daisy shook her head. “You don’t need the sun. Someone told me cantaloupes grow twice as fast in the moonlight.”
“They do?” Benny asked
“I think that’s what they said,” Daisy replied.
“Wow. I hope there’s a full moon tonight,” Benny said. He went back to the chive plants but he couldn’t stop thinking about that cantaloupe. Would it grow twice as big on a moonlit night? There was only one way to find out.
Benny waited until everyone was asleep in the bunkhouse that night before tiptoeing to the window. A big silver moon hung in the sky, spilling beams of light across the yard.
“Bingo,” he said softly. Still in his pajamas, he quietly pulled on his boots and went out onto the porch. He was heading toward the cantaloupe patch when he saw someone crossing the yard toward the stable. Who would be out at this time of night? he wondered.