Race Against Time Read online

  Leaving her car there also, Nancy began walking toward the two men. Before she could reach them, however, Hugh Morston turned and started back toward his mansion. He smiled at the sight of her.

  "Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise! Nice to see you. Youve caught me just as I got home from New

  York. I haven't even been in the house yet. What can I do for you?"

  "Mr. Morston," she replied, "I'd like your opinion of Lou Yelvey. Did you know he's under suspicion of being mixed up in the theft of Shooting Star? The police are checking up on every move he made the night the horse was stolen."

  Morston nodded and reached into his car to bring out a briefcase. Then he took Nancy by the elbow and began walking her up the broad marble steps to the door of the house. "Let's go in and have some refreshments while I answer your questions," he said, smiling at her.

  When they were seated comfortably in the front room, sipping iced tea, Hugh Morston said, "I don't like to give anyone a bad name. I tried to help Yelvey out after he was fired from Rainbow Ranch, but," he said, shrugging, "the fellow was impossible. He was a troublemaker and very insolent. He just wouldn't take orders, so I had to let him go."

  Taking a sip of the tea, Nancy asked Morston what he thought about the item in the newspaper that he had brought over to Rainbow Ranch to show Roger Harlow. "You recall what it said about Mr. Harlow doubting whether his horse could win the handicap. It implied that he himself might have had something to do with Shooting Star's disappearance. Do you really think he would do such a thing?"

  Nancy settled back in the comfortable leather chair, curious to hear what her host would say. His answer surprised her.

  "Well, it does seem fantastic at first thought, but, you know, a number of racing experts do believe that Judd Bruces horse Minaret could beat Shooting Star."

  Nancy remembered that Judd Bruce was the sportsman with whom Mr. Harlow had made his bet. He was also a possible suspect.

  "Believe me, I have the highest regard for Roger Harlow," Morston went on. "On the other hand, horses and horseracing mean a great deal to him. He's spent his whole career breeding thoroughbreds. Who knows what anyone might do in a situation like that with an important prize at stake? Still," he smiled toothily at her, "what do I know? I'm only repeating what other people have been saying, my dear."

  "Mr. Morston, I appreciate your honesty and also your willingness to answer my questions," Nancy said. "May I ask you one more?"

  "Ask away, by all means."

  "Do you remember a jockey named Pepper Nash?"

  Hugh Morston thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, of course. I haven't seen him for ages. After word got around that Harlow thought he had deliberately lost a race, he couldn't get any horses to ride at tracks in this area."

  Nancy asked, "Do you think the accusation was justified?"

  "No. Nash was young and hotheaded. It was just poor judgment the way he handled his mount that caused him to lose. Of course, it was an important race for Harlow's horse, so it's understandable why Roger got so angry."

  Hugh Morston politely walked Nancy to her car while chatting about the weather and his gardens. After saying good-bye and being assured that she was welcome at any time, Nancy drove off, wondering if Mr. Morston was as jovial as he seemed.

  Heading into Fernwood, Nancy decided to call on Judd Bruce. His realty firm was on Main Street in a well-preserved, old colonial house, which had been very carefully restored. Inside, although the style of the rooms had been kept unchanged, it had been refurnished as business offices with all the latest equipment. Mr. Bruce was clearly prosperous.

  Bruce himself was a stocky, balding man. His hearty manner turned to cold disdain when he discovered that Nancy was not a customer and learned the reason for her visit.

  "I'm a busy man, Miss Drew," he said, looking at his watch. "I really don't know how you think I can help you." His hostile little eyes stared at her.

  Nancy responded with a pleasant smile. "Mr. Bruce, as the owner of a valuable racehorse yourself, I was hoping you might have some thoughts about Shooting Stars theft. Perhaps you might even suggest some line of investigation to follow that hadn't occurred to me. For instance, what do you think of the rumor that Mr. Harlow was worried your horse could beat his?"

  "Well, first of all, let me correct you when you speak of my horse beating Shooting Star. I am not the sole owner of Minaret. He is owned by a sporting syndicate of which I am a member."

  Nancy was about to ask who the other investors in the syndicate were, when she noticed a sheet of stationery lying near the edge of Bruce's desk. The letterhead printed across the top said minaret, inc. Underneath were several names, which Nancy could not make out. But she guessed that they must be the names of the various syndicate members.

  Bruce saw what she was looking at, and his hand shot out, quickly turning over the piece of paper. "Secondly, for whatever my opinion may mean to you," he went on harshly, "if Shooting Star does run in the River Heights Handicap, Roger Harlow is going to lose a lot of money. Minaret will win. Does that answer your question?"

  Judd Bruce stood up abruptly, ending the interview. He walked to the door of his office and held it open for her. "And now, Miss Drew, you'll have to excuse me."

  How about that? Nancy mused as she walked to her car and drove away. Mr. Judd Bruce was a most unpleasant man. And so suspicious, too. He would certainly bear further investigation!

  When Nancy arrived home, Hannah Gruen had just finished setting the table in the dining room and was lighting the candles.

  "Hurry and wash your hands, Nancy. You're just in time," Hannah said.

  "I'll be right there," the girl replied, racing upstairs.

  She almost bumped into Carson Drew. "Whoa, honey! What's the rush?" the tall, distinguished lawyer chuckled, taking his daughter by the arms.

  "Sorry, Dad, but Hannah said to hurry, and everything smells so good and I'm so hungry!" she smiled up at him.

  He tilted her chin and looked at her fondly. "At the rate you're going, you'll beat me to the table!"

  Later, over the delicious desert of chocolate mousse, Nancy told her father and Hannah of Judd Bruce's unfriendly attitude. "I'd like to know why he's so defensive," she added. "If he's one of a group of people who owns Minaret, why didn't he want me to see who the others were?"

  "Good question," her father murmured as he sipped his coffee.

  "Dad, is there any chance you could find that out for me? And also could your private investigators trace the whereabouts of a jockey named Pepper Nash? He used to race at tracks around here, but now he seems to have disappeared."

  Carson Drew readily agreed to try to get the answers. "It may take a day or two, honey, but I'll let you know as soon as I learn anything."

  The next morning dawned sunny and warm. Driving to the Rainbow Ranch to model for the first TV commercial, Nancy found Tony Traynor and his film crew already there. As soon as Monsieur Philippe had done his makeup work on her, she was ready to start.

  A stable boy led a shining big black stallion out into the summer sun.

  Tony said, "I thought Stormy would be a good horse to start with. Is it all right with you, Nancy?"

  "Oh, yes! Isn't he a beauty!" She patted and soothed the restless animal.

  "Okay, Stormy, here we go!" With that, Nancy lithely mounted him.

  She was no sooner in the saddle than the big black thoroughbred began to buck and kick wildly. As he galloped and snorted, it was all Nancy could do to hang on!

  10. Another Fright

  Stormy continued to plunge and rear like an untamed bronco, calling on all of Nancys riding skills to stay on his back. Seeing her chance, she jumped off quickly and at last was able to quiet the stallion.

  "That was one time I was sure Id be thrown!" she said to Tony Traynor and Kurt Ellum. The trainer had come hurrying to the scene, looking concerned during her wild ride.

  Nancy continued patting and stroking Stormy to calm him.

  "H
ere, let me take him! I'll get you another horse," Kurt Ellum said and reached for the reins in Nancys hand.

  "Too bad," Tony said regretfully. "He's a magnificent horse. Just what we need for this first commercial. You know, a different type of mount for each one."

  "No, wait, please," Nancy said to Ellum, refusing to surrender the reins. "There must be a reason for him to act like that." Working deftly, she loosened the girth and pulled the light English saddle off Stormy. As she did so, a horse chestnut fell out from under the saddle and bounced on the ground.

  "No wonder!" Tony Traynor exclaimed, picking up the prickly hulled nut.

  "Stormy must have been in pain as soon as I mounted him," Nancy cried. "How did that ever get under his saddle?"

  Kurt Ellum called angrily toward the stable, "Don!" Turning to Nancy and Tony, he said, "It's the fault of that fool stable boy. I'll fix him!"

  When a long-haired boy of about fifteen came running out in response to Ellum's shout, he got a vicious tongue-lashing that left him close to tears. Nancy gently intervened, but he was marched back to the stable by Ellum with the horse walking between them.

  In spite of having gotten off to a bad start, the shooting that morning went very well. Nancy rode and posed on a beautiful white Arabian horse named Snowflake, which Ellum personally brought out to them.

  Afterward, Tony said, "I'd still like to shoot the next one with you on that black stallion, Nancy. Do you think you'd want to after this morning?"

  "Indeed I would," Nancy declared. "It's bad for my morale to admit defeat. I'm going into the stable and talk to Stormy right now."

  "Good luck!" Tony grinned. "The crew and I have to shove off. I'll see you here on Friday morning, okay?"

  When Nancy emerged from the stable, Mr. Harlow was approaching. "I hoped I'd see you before you left, Nancy. I wanted to tell you that I've checked with all my employees. No one here at Rainbow Ranch uses sedatives or sleeping pills."

  Nancy was still inclined to wonder how reliable his staff's answer to such a question might be, coming from their employer. But she replied politely, "Thanks for finding out. I guess I'll have to look elsewhere."

  As they were talking, Nancy noticed Mr. Harlow's granddaughter walking slowly toward them. All through the morning's shooting, Tina had been sitting on a grassy mound across the brook, watching Nancy on Stormy and then on Snowflake. She had even responded with a little wave when Nancy smiled and waved to her.

  When the little girl came up beside Mr. Harlow, he put his arm around her and said, "After that wonderful display of horsemanship this morning, I know Tina is eager to meet you. Isn't that right, dear?"

  Tina smiled shyly and nodded. When Nancy smilingly offered her hand, the little girl took it.

  Beaming, Mr. Harlow said, "Why don't we go back to the house and get the cook to rustle us up some refreshments? I don't know about you girls, but something cool would taste mighty good to me right now."

  As they chatted on the patio, Nancy happened to mention that her boyfriend's film club was making an amateur movie not far from Rainbow Ranch. Tina looked so interested that Nancy asked if she would like to come and watch the filming.

  "Oh, yes!" the little golden-haired girl exclaimed. "Can we go right now?"

  "All right," Nancy smiled. "But first it might be a good idea to put on a pair of shoes or sandals, don't you think?"

  Tina looked down at her bare feet and grinned. "I forgot. I'll be right back."

  As she scampered off, Mr. Harlow looked gratefully at Nancy. "Bless you. I think your example on Stormy this morning may have put some fresh spirit into her. She was watching every minute, admiring the cool way you handled the situation."

  "She probably just needs time to come out of her shell."

  Roger Harlow sighed. "I hope so. She was such a happy, adventurous child when she first came this summer. Shed ride off on her pony and explore in all directions, even places like the Grimsby Mansion and that old mine down the road. When I found out what she was up to, I had to put a stop to it, of course. I explained that old deserted places like that may be dangerous. But I needn't have worried. Suddenly, she wouldn't go near her pony or stray very far from the house."

  Concerned that she might be influencing Tina to disobey her grandfathers orders, Nancy promptly told him that the amateur movie was being filmed at the old Grimsby Mansion. "Would you rather she didn't go there?" Nancy asked.

  "No, no! I'm delighted you've come up with something to catch her interest. I just felt it was risky for her to go poking around an old abandoned house by herself. But going there with you is different altogether," said Mr. Harlow.

  When Tina came running up, he kissed her and said, "Have a good time, honey! And, Nancy, you come back with Tina for lunch."

  Nancy thought this might be an opportunity to help the little girl overcome her fear of horses. So as they left the house together, she steered the way gently toward the stables. "I think we can get there more quickly if we ride through the woods on horseback," she remarked casually.

  Tina stopped abruptly with a look of alarm. "No, I don't want to!"

  "Well then, suppose we just take one horse and ride double," Nancy suggested with a smile. "You can sit in front of me with my arms around you. How about that?"

  But Tina shook her head stubbornly with an increasingly anxious expression. "No!"

  "All right, dear." Nancy gave her small companion a reassuring hug. "We'll just walk, then. It isn't far."

  "All right." Tina's face brightened at once. "Which way do we go?"

  Nancy guided them to a trail through the woods, which led in the direction of the Grimsby Mansion. But as they strolled along the forest path, Tina's steps lagged. She began to walk slower and slower. Nancy noticed that the little girl's expression had become nervous and apprehensive.

  "Is anything wrong, honey?" she inquired.

  Tina shrugged and mumbled inaudibly.

  Finally, as they came within sight of the house, Tina would go no further. Her face suddenly crumpled into tears. Turning, she began running back toward Rainbow Ranch, sobbing hysterically.

  Nancy quickly caught up with the little girl. Rather than upset her with questions, she comforted and calmed her. Then they walked back, hand in hand, to Tinas grandfather's house. There they learned that Mr. Harlow had been called away to town on business.

  So Nancy and Tina lunched alone together on the patio. As they enjoyed their sandwiches and milk and fruit, the two chatted lightly. Nothing more was said about the movie being filmed at the Grimsby Mansion or their walk through the woods.

  Later, driving away from Rainbow Ranch, Nancy puzzled over Tinas strange behavior. What had caused the little girl's frightened outburst?

  Before returning home, Nancy decided to talk to Lou Yelvey, the fired stablehand. Detective Hart had given her his address, which turned out to be a two-story house in the nearby town of Smithboro.

  Nancy had just pulled up to the curb, when a thin, active-looking man came out of the house and started down the porch steps. In answer to Nancy's query, he grunted, "I'm Lou Yelvey. What do you want?"

  The titian-haired girl explained why she had come and asked if he would mind answering a few questions.

  "Go ahead," Yelvey shrugged. "But make it snappy. I've got a part-time delivery job now, and I'm due at the warehouse in twenty minutes."

  "How did you come to lose your job at Rainbow Ranch?" she inquired, watching his face.

  "I had a fight with Kurt Ellum, that's why. Look, I know horses, Miss Drew, and I don't need some bossy guy like him telling me all day long what to do and what not to do. We just didn't get along, that's all. As far as I'm concerned, he's a dumb cluck. And rotten-tempered, too."

  Yelvey's jaw jutted out stubbornly as he spoke.

  "What about your job at Mr. Morston's stables?" Nancy asked gently.

  "You mean why was I fired there, too? You don't have to beat around the bush. I know the cops have got me on their little list of susp
ects! So what?" Lou Yelvey scowled and went on, "Look, I know I've got a short fuse. When I see something wrong, I speak out. That doesn't sit well with some people. Like Morston, for instance. That guy has no business owning horses. He doesn't know the first thing about handling them! He's got a mean streak that comes out any time one of them acts up. When I told him so, he fired me."

  Steering the conversation back to Rainbow Ranch, Nancy began asking him about the horses. To draw him out, she mentioned the ones that she had ridden. As Yelvey discussed them, Nancy could tell instinctively that he loved horses. While he might be quick-tempered and impatient with certain people, she sensed that he would be just the opposite with animals.

  "What did you think of Shooting Star?" she asked.

  "He's a fine horse with a great racing career ahead of him, if Harlow can ever get him back."

  "Was he easy to handle?"

  "Are you kidding? That horse has a mind of his own. Treat him right and hell eat out of your hand. Otherwise he's apt to get ornery." Yelvey laughed. "You know, his best friend around that stable was a cat. It's a funny thing, but that cat would perch on the windowsill of his stall, and you'd almost believe they were talking to each other."

  He added that he hoped Shooting Star would soon be found, and that if there was anything he could do to help, Nancy had only to ask. She offered him a lift to his delivery job, and they parted on friendly terms.

  Returning home, Nancy quickly changed from her riding clothes. Since Hannah Gruen was out, she decided to pick up Bess and George and visit the Deene Art Gallery in Fern wood.

  Bess was ecstatic. "Ooh, I'm just dying to see those ceramics! I loved the pictures I saw of them in the paper."

  "Oh, sure. We know what really turned you on. It was the picture of the artist," George teased. "And he is handsome, I must admit."

  Bess's cheeks were pink with excitement by time they arrived at the gallery. It was small but attractively arranged. The ceramics exhibit was set up in a corner of the main room. Several other people were examining the displays, and the girls had to move carefully among the stands and tables.