Free Horse Shy by Bonnie Bryant Page A

crystal ball lady at the fair when she comes to town in August,” Stevie said.
    “Crystal balls are supposed to tell the future, not the past,” Lisa said, giggling. “No, what I mean is that, for one thing, we could try official records at town hall and—” she paused, “
and
we can try pumping Mrs. Reg. After all, the man was her father-in-law. She might have some juicy tidbits for us.”
    “Hey, great idea,” Stevie said. “I never thought of that. Why don’t we get to the stable early on Tuesday before class and see if she’ll give us some hints?”
    “It’s a date,” Lisa agreed.
    “W HAT ARE YOU two doing here?” Mrs. Reg asked when Stevie and Lisa walked into the tack room Tuesday afternoon.
    Lisa felt trapped and was glad when Stevie answered the question. “Oh, we just thought we’d do some saddle-soaping before class,” she said airily.
    Mrs. Reg looked at her suspiciously. Lisa knew they were on thin ice. Although they’d both worked hard at the stable (all of Max’s students worked hard at the stable; Max insisted that taking care of horses was an important part of riding them), it was Carole who usually wanted to clean the tack. Lisa was sure Mrs. Reg would see right through them.
    The woman stood up and went to the shelf where the cleaning gear was kept. “Here you go, girls,” she said, handing each of them a tin of saddle soap, sponges, and cloths. “The bridles over on that wall need cleaning today.” Her voice softened. “I’m glad to see you here. I miss Carole. She’s the best soaper we ever had.”
    “She’s the best at a lot of stuff,” Lisa said.
    “Yeah, we miss her, too. That’s why we wanted to help you today,” Stevie agreed.
    The girls took their gear and headed for the bridles. There sure were a lot of them. It looked like an endless job—almost as endless as Mrs. Rappaport’s garden parties!
    “Say, Mrs. Reg,” Stevie began casually while she worked the dirt out of a throatlatch.
    “Hmm?” Mrs. Reg responded.
    “How about that guy, Maxmillian the First, was he something?”
    “Who?” asked Mrs. Reg.
    “You know, Max’s grandfather—the founder of this place? He was your father-in-law, right?”
    “Oh, sure,” Mrs. Reg said.
    Lisa could see that Stevie was trying to lay a trap for Mrs. Reg. She wanted to get her talking about the old man without her really noticing it. Lisa held her breath, hoping.
    “I mean, like when he opened the stable—” Stevie paused. Lisa hoped Mrs. Reg would pick up the idea and start talking.
    “Hmmm,” was all the older woman said.
    “It was a long time ago, right?” Stevie prompted.
    “Uh, yes,” Mrs. Reg told them. She was shuffling through papers on her desk. “I suppose it seems that way, if you’re twelve years old.”
    That was a rebuff if Lisa had ever heard one!
    “But were you around then?” Stevie asked.
    “I’m not sure,” Mrs. Reg said.
    This conversation was definitely not going the way the girls wanted it to go.
    “Well, what was he like?” Stevie asked. Lisa could tell she’d decided to be more direct. Being indirect was getting them exactly nowhere.
    “Who?” Mrs. Reg asked. Being direct was getting them nowhere, too.
    “Your father-in-law,” Stevie persisted.
    “Oh, he was a fine rider,” Mrs. Reg told the girls.
    “Where did he learn to ride?” Stevie asked.
    “Everybody rode in those days,” Mrs. Reg said.
    And that was all they could get out of her. When Lisa and Stevie looked up from their bridles, they could see that Mrs. Reg’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. They realized that they were not the first Pine Hollow students to try to pump her about the stable’s founder—nor were they the only ones who weren’t going to get anything from her.
    “It’s a conspiracy!” Stevie hissed to Lisa. “They won’t tell us
any
thing. The old man was probably a bank robber—or a horse thief! We’ll get to the bottom of this!”
    Lisa was becoming as convinced as Stevie