camera!
Stevie went to find Chad, hoping he might be able to think of an alternative. She found him in the living room with a shocked look on his face.
“Do you have any idea how much it costs to feed fifty people?” he asked in a shaky voice.
“More than a digital camera?” Stevie guessed.
Chad nodded. “No wonder Mom and Dad keep complaining about the grocery bill.”
Alex swung through the front door, a grin on his face. “I got the band, and they only want twenty-five dollars!” he said excitedly.
That sounded too good to be true. “What’s the catch?” Stevie asked suspiciously.
“Turns out they only know three songs,” he said sheepishly. “But it’s no big deal.”
Chad looked skeptical. “How do you figure that?”
Alex flopped on the couch. “Mom and Dad are always complaining that our music all sounds the same, right? So they’ll never notice it’s the same three songs over and over!”
Stevie sank into a chair. Their ship of dreams had definitely sprung some leaks.
C AROLE WANDERED RESTLESSLY around the nearly deserted stable. She had come by to set her trap again, but to her disappointment none of the Pony Partner teams were around, so hiding behind the changing curtain would be a waste of time. Time she didn’t really have to waste. She knew she should have been working on organizing her judging papers, but she was finding herself more and more reluctant to do so. It wasn’t this unsolved mystery that was distracting her, either. She was lonely. She tossed her judging folder none too gently onto a bench, sending some of the loose papers fluttering to the floor. She glared at it resentfully.
At first she had been delighted to have been chosen for this job, but now all she wanted was to get back to normal. The responsibility was weighing heavily on her, especially since she had to carry it alone. Any other time Lisa and Stevie would have been right by her side, cheering her on and helping her nab the culprit. No doubt Stevie would have come up with a much better plan than hiding behind a dumb curtain, and Lisa would have put her razor-sharp mind to the problem and figured out who had done it by a logicalprocess of elimination. It didn’t seem fair that she couldn’t ask them for help, that she had to keep her distance from them until this whole business was over.
“I thought I heard someone in here.” Mrs. Reg, Max’s mother and Pine Hollow’s stable manager, stood larger than life in the doorway. “Working on the show, I see.” She eyed the mess on the bench and floor.
Embarrassed to have been caught in what was basically a tantrum, Carole hurried to collect the papers. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Reg. Yes, I was sorting through some things.”
“That’s quite a load of papers you have there. It’s a big responsibility Max has handed you. You must be very proud.”
“I guess,” Carole said, trying to drum up some enthusiasm.
“I remember a long time ago Max’s father had a pony named Cobweb,” Mrs. Reg said, leaning against the doorjamb. “We named him that because he was a beautiful silvery gray color, and his mane and tail were so soft. More like human hair than pony hair. Know what I mean?”
“Yes, of course,” Carole acknowledged. She knew what was coming: Mrs. Reg was going off on one of her stories. She did that from time to time. You couldrarely tell what had set her off or what any of it had to do with you, but once she had begun the best thing was to let her carry on until she was finished.
“He was a lovely pony, that one. He took to his saddle training like a duck to water, and gentle … Well, he was a big favorite with the young riders, as you can imagine. The parents loved him, too, because they knew they could always rely on him to take care of their kids. Sometimes it seemed like that pony was doing more of the teaching than my Max was.” She chuckled.
Carole smiled politely, wondering where this story was going.
“One day Max got it into his
Stevie went to find Chad, hoping he might be able to think of an alternative. She found him in the living room with a shocked look on his face.
“Do you have any idea how much it costs to feed fifty people?” he asked in a shaky voice.
“More than a digital camera?” Stevie guessed.
Chad nodded. “No wonder Mom and Dad keep complaining about the grocery bill.”
Alex swung through the front door, a grin on his face. “I got the band, and they only want twenty-five dollars!” he said excitedly.
That sounded too good to be true. “What’s the catch?” Stevie asked suspiciously.
“Turns out they only know three songs,” he said sheepishly. “But it’s no big deal.”
Chad looked skeptical. “How do you figure that?”
Alex flopped on the couch. “Mom and Dad are always complaining that our music all sounds the same, right? So they’ll never notice it’s the same three songs over and over!”
Stevie sank into a chair. Their ship of dreams had definitely sprung some leaks.
C AROLE WANDERED RESTLESSLY around the nearly deserted stable. She had come by to set her trap again, but to her disappointment none of the Pony Partner teams were around, so hiding behind the changing curtain would be a waste of time. Time she didn’t really have to waste. She knew she should have been working on organizing her judging papers, but she was finding herself more and more reluctant to do so. It wasn’t this unsolved mystery that was distracting her, either. She was lonely. She tossed her judging folder none too gently onto a bench, sending some of the loose papers fluttering to the floor. She glared at it resentfully.
At first she had been delighted to have been chosen for this job, but now all she wanted was to get back to normal. The responsibility was weighing heavily on her, especially since she had to carry it alone. Any other time Lisa and Stevie would have been right by her side, cheering her on and helping her nab the culprit. No doubt Stevie would have come up with a much better plan than hiding behind a dumb curtain, and Lisa would have put her razor-sharp mind to the problem and figured out who had done it by a logicalprocess of elimination. It didn’t seem fair that she couldn’t ask them for help, that she had to keep her distance from them until this whole business was over.
“I thought I heard someone in here.” Mrs. Reg, Max’s mother and Pine Hollow’s stable manager, stood larger than life in the doorway. “Working on the show, I see.” She eyed the mess on the bench and floor.
Embarrassed to have been caught in what was basically a tantrum, Carole hurried to collect the papers. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Reg. Yes, I was sorting through some things.”
“That’s quite a load of papers you have there. It’s a big responsibility Max has handed you. You must be very proud.”
“I guess,” Carole said, trying to drum up some enthusiasm.
“I remember a long time ago Max’s father had a pony named Cobweb,” Mrs. Reg said, leaning against the doorjamb. “We named him that because he was a beautiful silvery gray color, and his mane and tail were so soft. More like human hair than pony hair. Know what I mean?”
“Yes, of course,” Carole acknowledged. She knew what was coming: Mrs. Reg was going off on one of her stories. She did that from time to time. You couldrarely tell what had set her off or what any of it had to do with you, but once she had begun the best thing was to let her carry on until she was finished.
“He was a lovely pony, that one. He took to his saddle training like a duck to water, and gentle … Well, he was a big favorite with the young riders, as you can imagine. The parents loved him, too, because they knew they could always rely on him to take care of their kids. Sometimes it seemed like that pony was doing more of the teaching than my Max was.” She chuckled.
Carole smiled politely, wondering where this story was going.
“One day Max got it into his
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