Free Issie and the Christmas Pony by Stacy Gregg Page B

“Hey, stop that!” Issie giggled again. “We’ve only just met!”
    Somehow, though, it seemed like she had known this pony forever. It was as if he was already hers. But that was crazy. She didn’t know anything about this pony. She didn’t even know his name.
    His name! If he was for sale then his name would be right there on the paperwork, wouldn’t it? Issie’s eyes scanned the side of the truck, looking for the auction form with all of the horse’s details. She couldn’t see it anywhere at first, but finally she found it plastered to the wall of the truck and hidden beneath the hay net. The ad was brief, only two lines long. It said:
Dapple grey Gelding, 18 years old, 14 hands A one-in-a-million learner’s pony
    â€œIt doesn’t say his name!” Issie couldn’t believe it! All the other registration papers had the horse’s name on them. Why didn’t this one?
    â€œAre you interested in buying him?” The man who had nearly run Issie over moments before poked his head out of the horse truck and smiled at her. “Hey, didn’t I nearly knock you over back there? I’m sorry about that.”
    Issie smiled back. “It’s OK. It was my fault; I wasn’t looking.”
    The man stepped down from the truck and stood next to the grey pony. “So, are you interested in him? You are looking for a pony, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes!” said Issie immediately.
    The man looked doubtful. “Buying him by yourself?” Issie could see from his expression that he thought she was just some kid bothering his pony and not a real buyer at all.
    â€œMy mum and my instructor are helping me,” Issie said. “They’re in the barn watching the auction.”
    The man perked up a little at this. “OK, well, I’m selling him on behalf of the owners,” he explained. “He’s not mine, so I can’t tell you much about him, I’m afraid. I’m looking after half a dozen different horses for various folk today so I find it hard to keep track. All I know is what it says on the papers.”He pointed to the sheet that was half-obscured under the hay net.
    â€œBut it doesn’t say anything on his papers.” Issie was disappointed. “What about his name? Do you at least know what he’s called?”
    The man sighed. “I’m not sure. Maybe I’ve got it somewhere here. Let me just check…” He rummaged around on the seat of the truck, picked up a manilla folder and flipped through the contents. “Let me see…” he mumbled as he searched. “Grey pony, fourteen hands high, eighteen years old…ahhh…here it is!” He turned to Issie. “His name,” the man said, “is Mystic.”
    The auctioneer was up to lot number 48 by the time Issie made it back to find Avery.
    â€œWhere have you been?” Avery said. “Goldie is lot number 50. She’ll be in the ring at any moment.”
    â€œTom,” Issie was panting from running all the way back, “I need you to come now and look at another horse. He’s the one that I want to buy!” At that moment the auctioneer’s gavel came down with a loudcrack and Issie and Avery both turned to look at him.
    â€œLot number 48 is sold for $2300!” the auctioneer shouted. “Can we have lot number 49 in the sale ring please? A piebald yearling, bred out of Majestic, by the sire Everest. Who’ll give me an opening bid of $500…?”
    â€œIssie!” Avery said, looking serious. “We don’t have time to go and look at another horse now. Goldie is up in the ring after this piebald. If we don’t stay here now, we’ll miss our chance to bid on her.”
    Issie bit her lip. Avery was right. If she dragged him off now to look at the grey pony, she would miss her chance to buy the palomino.
    â€œWhat lot is Juniper?” she asked.
    â€œHe’s