Read Online Secret of the Stallion by Bonnie Bryant - Free Book Online Page A

the long road that led to the castle grounds. It was an open area. There were few trees and no people. They walked in contented silence. The road circled the castle’s wall and then split, one way leading into the castle, the other toward the stabling area.
    There was a large old oak tree not far from the stables on the banks of the small creek that fed into the castle’s moat. Lisa remembered the tree from this afternoon. In the daytime, it had offered a haven of shade from the bright sunlight. Its huge trunk suggested that it had been there a very long time, perhaps several hundred years.
    “Do you think that oak was there when the duke lived here?” Lisa asked as she and Enrico crossed the wooden bridge over the creek.
    “Perhaps as a tiny seed, what do you call it?”
    “Acorn.”
    “Yes, acorn,” Enrico said. “I don’t think that any tree, really, lives that long.”
    Lisa made a note to tell him about the giant redwoodsof California, but later, because right then, the tree’s shadow moved, startling both Lisa and Enrico.
    “What was that?” Lisa asked.
    The shadow moved again before Enrico could answer, and then they both knew it wasn’t a shadow; it was a man. He was standing under the oak tree, looking around as if to get his bearings.
    “Can we help you?” Enrico offered as they approached the man.
    “No thanks,” he said, tugging at his cap. “Just having a walk of a summer’s eve.”
    Lisa and Enrico nodded to the man, who hurried off, limping, back down the road that had brought them to the stable. His uneven stride could be heard along the road behind them as they entered the stable. It made Lisa remember their original reason for coming tonight. She hoped Pip’s problem wasn’t any kind of lameness.
    The two of them stepped into the cover of the dark stables and stopped, waiting for their eyes to become accustomed to the dimness. The place was filled with the wonderful sounds and smells of horses. To the right, a horse stomped impatiently on the ground. Ahead, another munched lazily on some hay. One snorted softly. Another answered with a gentle whinny.
    “Isn’t it wonderful?” Lisa whispered to Enrico. “All these great horses in one place?”
    “It ain’t nuffin’ compared to what used to be ’ere, you know,” said a gruff voice from the darkness.
    “What?” Lisa said.
    “Where are you?” Enrico asked.
    “Roight over ’ere,” said the voice.
    A small desk lamp snapped on, and just to their left, at the desk, was an old man, perhaps seventy.
    “Name’s ’Ank,” he said. “Oi’m the lad what looks after the ’orses at night.”
    Lisa translated quickly in her mind. This was a man named Hank who was the night watchman among the stablehands—the “lads.”
    The old man stood up and offered his hand. Lisa and Enrico shook it and introduced themselves.
    “Oi know ’oo you are,” he said. It turned out that he’d seen both of them riding that afternoon. “Even when Oi’m not on duty, there isn’t much Oi don’t know around ’ere,” he said. “You two are part of them Pony Clubbers, roight?”
    “Right,” Lisa said. “And I’m riding one of the horses from Dickens,” said Lisa.
    “Fine ’orses,” ’Ank said.
    “Oh, yes,” said Lisa. “We came over to check on Pip, though. I was riding him this afternoon and he was fussy as can be. When I rode him the other day at Dickens, he didn’t show a bit of that fussiness. I hope he’s okay.”
    “Well, then let’s take a look at ’im,” ’Ank said. He picked up a flashlight and led the two young riders along the aisle to Pip’s stall. Lisa was very aware of the fact that even though there were more than fifty horses stabled atCummington, ’Ank didn’t even have to consult a chart. He knew just where to find Pip.
    When they got to the stall, ’Ank flipped a switch to light up the area.
    Pip was there. He looked just fine. His ears perked curiously toward his visitors. His eyes were bright and