Mrs. Reg made their way through the gate, up an escalator, along a hallway, through a tunnel, and into the arena itself.
“Here? We sit here?” Stevie asked as they located their seats. She was expressing the surprise and excitement all three girls felt when they realized how good their seats were. They were practically
in
the ring. “Shouldn’t we be climbing up some stairs, or sitting behind a pole or something?”
“No, this is where we’re sitting,” Max assured her. “And don’t worry. Mother and I aren’t dressed any fancier than you girls are.”
Stevie sat down. She didn’t sit for long, though, because as soon as they’d all settled into their seats, Dorothy DeSoto showed up. She was in work clothes since one of the horses she trained was competingtonight. That put Stevie totally at ease. Apparently you could wear anything at the horse show, and the more casually you were dressed, the more important you obviously were!
Dorothy had big hugs for Max and Mrs. Reg and for the whole Saddle Club.
“I’m so glad you could all come tonight!” she said. “This is one of my favorite nights of the horse show. It’s going to be great.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to work,” she said. “But would any of you, say for instance some of the young riders here, like to come with me?”
“You mean like backstage?” Carole asked.
“That’s where I’m headed,” Dorothy said. “You might miss the first class, which is a saddlebred class, but you will get a special flavor of the show.”
Max cleared his throat. “You mean you’re willing to take a chance and let these three wild things loose with all those horses?”
“Sure,” said Dorothy. “I might even put them to work, but more likely I’ll just introduce them to Nigel. I’ve been telling him a lot about these girls.”
“Uh-oh,” said Stevie. “Where’s the nearest exit?”
“This way,” Dorothy said, leading them all through the gate into the backstage area of the arena.
The girls had been backstage at a horse show oncebefore, in New York. This was a very different place, though. It was much more spacious and comfortable. That was because in the middle of New York City, hundreds of horses had to be housed in a very small indoor area. This arena had more room, both inside and out, for the horses. They had an outdoor warm-up ring, as well as an indoor one. The warm-up ring in New York had been no larger than an average living room.
Dorothy walked past a warm-up ring, straight to the stabling area. Each stable had its own section where its horses were kept. Many competitors just had one stall. Some had five, six, or more, and their area would include not just a space for the trunk that held the horse’s tack and grooming gear, but a whole miniature tack room.
Lisa’s eyes couldn’t take it all in. It seemed that every time they turned another corner (and there were plenty of those), somebody else was saying, “Hi, Dorothy. How’s it going?” or “Have you seen Janice?” or “Good luck!” or “Did I already tell you Jack and I will be at the wedding?”
Dorothy knew everybody there, and everybody there liked her. It made the girls feel all the more important.
Then Dorothy stopped. She was at a large stablingarea that seemed to be covered with red, white, and blue bunting. At first Lisa thought it was American, but then she realized that everybody there was talking with a decidedly different accent, and then it occurred to her that England’s colors were red, white, and blue, too.
“Nigel, here they are,” Dorothy said. “This is Carole, Stevie, and Lisa—better known as The Saddle Club.”
“Ah, the American girls who ride at Max’s stable!” Nigel said. “And Dorothy told me something of your adventures in New York—something about a movie star who needed riding lessons?”
“That’s right,” Carole said, offering her hand. Lisa was glad Carole had spoken because she didn’t think
“Here? We sit here?” Stevie asked as they located their seats. She was expressing the surprise and excitement all three girls felt when they realized how good their seats were. They were practically
in
the ring. “Shouldn’t we be climbing up some stairs, or sitting behind a pole or something?”
“No, this is where we’re sitting,” Max assured her. “And don’t worry. Mother and I aren’t dressed any fancier than you girls are.”
Stevie sat down. She didn’t sit for long, though, because as soon as they’d all settled into their seats, Dorothy DeSoto showed up. She was in work clothes since one of the horses she trained was competingtonight. That put Stevie totally at ease. Apparently you could wear anything at the horse show, and the more casually you were dressed, the more important you obviously were!
Dorothy had big hugs for Max and Mrs. Reg and for the whole Saddle Club.
“I’m so glad you could all come tonight!” she said. “This is one of my favorite nights of the horse show. It’s going to be great.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to work,” she said. “But would any of you, say for instance some of the young riders here, like to come with me?”
“You mean like backstage?” Carole asked.
“That’s where I’m headed,” Dorothy said. “You might miss the first class, which is a saddlebred class, but you will get a special flavor of the show.”
Max cleared his throat. “You mean you’re willing to take a chance and let these three wild things loose with all those horses?”
“Sure,” said Dorothy. “I might even put them to work, but more likely I’ll just introduce them to Nigel. I’ve been telling him a lot about these girls.”
“Uh-oh,” said Stevie. “Where’s the nearest exit?”
“This way,” Dorothy said, leading them all through the gate into the backstage area of the arena.
The girls had been backstage at a horse show oncebefore, in New York. This was a very different place, though. It was much more spacious and comfortable. That was because in the middle of New York City, hundreds of horses had to be housed in a very small indoor area. This arena had more room, both inside and out, for the horses. They had an outdoor warm-up ring, as well as an indoor one. The warm-up ring in New York had been no larger than an average living room.
Dorothy walked past a warm-up ring, straight to the stabling area. Each stable had its own section where its horses were kept. Many competitors just had one stall. Some had five, six, or more, and their area would include not just a space for the trunk that held the horse’s tack and grooming gear, but a whole miniature tack room.
Lisa’s eyes couldn’t take it all in. It seemed that every time they turned another corner (and there were plenty of those), somebody else was saying, “Hi, Dorothy. How’s it going?” or “Have you seen Janice?” or “Good luck!” or “Did I already tell you Jack and I will be at the wedding?”
Dorothy knew everybody there, and everybody there liked her. It made the girls feel all the more important.
Then Dorothy stopped. She was at a large stablingarea that seemed to be covered with red, white, and blue bunting. At first Lisa thought it was American, but then she realized that everybody there was talking with a decidedly different accent, and then it occurred to her that England’s colors were red, white, and blue, too.
“Nigel, here they are,” Dorothy said. “This is Carole, Stevie, and Lisa—better known as The Saddle Club.”
“Ah, the American girls who ride at Max’s stable!” Nigel said. “And Dorothy told me something of your adventures in New York—something about a movie star who needed riding lessons?”
“That’s right,” Carole said, offering her hand. Lisa was glad Carole had spoken because she didn’t think
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