The Runaway Racehorse (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

Forest looked up in surprise. Then suddenly, his face relaxed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bet Whirlaway went to visit his mother again,” Forest said. “I’ll call Mr. Bunks.”

“Who’s Mr. Bunks?” Ruth Rose asked.

“Tinker Bunks owns the ranch next to my property,” Forest said. “He tried to raise horses for racing. He never had much luck, so he sold off his stock. That’s how Warren and I got Whirlaway. Mr. Bunks kept Whirlaway’s mother, a nice old mare named Biscuit.”

“How does Whirlaway visit his mother?” Dink asked.

Sunny frowned. “The rascal gets out of his stall and cuts through the woods,” she said.

“I wonder when he got out this time,” Forest said. “He was here this morning when Warren got here. We went in and visited him.”

“So he could have been gone all day!” Sunny said.

Forest nodded slowly “Yes, it’s possible, Sunny. But let’s not worry. Last time he ran away, I found him safe and sound, munching hay with his mother.”

Forest reached for the phone and dialed. He listened, then hung up.

“Mr. Bunks’s line is busy,” he said. He looked at the kids. “If you’re finished, why don’t we jump in my truck and take a ride over there?”

“I’ll throw down some fresh straw in Whirlaway’s stall,” Sunny said. She
headed out the door toward the barn.

Forest put the fruit back in the fridge and the kids followed him out the kitchen door.

He led them to the gravel parking area behind the barn. Forest’s pickup truck was filled with bales of hay.

“Who wants to ride in the back with the hay?” Forest asked.

“I do!” Josh said.

“I will, too,” Ruth Rose said. “Otherwise, Josh will be scared.”

“Just make sure you hang on,” Forest said. “We’re taking the old logging road through the woods and it’s pretty bumpy.”

Ruth Rose and Josh scrambled into the truck’s bed and sat on hay bales. Dink climbed into the cab next to Forest.

Forest started the truck and drove into the trees. Dink bounced in his seat as the tires rolled over bumps in the
road. Low branches brushed the top of the cab.

Dink turned around to look through the rear window. Josh and Ruth Rose were laughing and holding on to the sides of the truck.

A few minutes later, they came out of the woods. Up ahead Dink saw a barn and a house. Forest pulled into the driveway and stopped behind another truck.

A dog was tied to a nearby tree. He leaped up and started barking.

“Calm down, Buster,” Forest said out his window. “Be a good dog.”

A man came from behind the barn. He was wearing a work shirt, jeans, and a leather belt with a big silver buckle. Muddy rubber boots came up nearly to his knees.

“Lie down, Buster,” the man said. Buster stopped barking and flopped down on the ground.

“Afternoon, Tinker,” Forest said.

Tinker Bunks walked over and leaned on the door. He had a thin face, sharp blue eyes, and thick brows.

“Good day to you, Forest,” he said. “That horse I sold you still running like the wind?”

Forest nodded and smiled. “He’s won every race so far,” he said.

“Winnin’ is good,” Mr. Bunks said. He looked off into the distance for a few seconds. “But I’m glad the racing
business is behind me now. A lot of work, horses.”

He peered into the cab. “So what brings you here today?”

“I’m afraid Whirlaway has disappeared again,” Forest told Mr. Bunks. “Any chance he’s come to visit his mother?”

Mr. Bunks arched his eyebrows. “Not so far as I know,” he said, glancing toward the barn. “Let’s go have a look.”

The kids followed Mr. Bunks and Forest into a large barn. As they entered, Dink heard a horse whinny. “We hear you, Biscuit,” Mr. Bunks said.

The barn was cool and dim. Dust hung in the air where sunlight came through high windows. A loft held rows of hay bales. The floor was swept clean.

Dink peeked into several stalls. Each was clean and empty.

Mr. Bunks stopped at a stall with its
top door open. A pale brown horse with dark eyes stood there waiting. She had a small white mark on her forehead.

“This is Whirlaway’s mom,” Forest told the kids. He patted Biscuit on her nose.

“Have you seen your son today old girl?” Mr. Bunks asked his horse.

As if she understood, Biscuit shook her large head from side to side.

“I thought for sure he’d be here,” Forest said. He peered into a few of the empty stalls.

“I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time,” Forest told Mr. Bunks. “Come on, kids. It’s time to call the police.”

CHAPTER 3

Tinker Bunks looked serious. “If he shows up, I’ll give you a shout.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Forest said. “He’s running at Saratoga tomorrow.”

“Is he now!” Mr. Bunks said. “I wish you luck.”

They all left the barn. The sky had grown darker. As Forest drove through the woods, Dink heard thunder. Wind began to whip tree branches back and forth.

Forest drove faster. “I’d better get us home before Josh and Ruth Rose have a shower!” he said.

Forest parked behind his barn just as raindrops began to splatter the windshield. “Let’s run for it!” he said, leaping from the cab.

Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose ran, squealing, as the clouds opened up. In seconds they were soaking wet.

Inside the house, Forest handed them towels. They dried their hair and faces.

“Why don’t you settle in while I call the police,” he said. “Ruth Rose, you’re in the blue bedroom. Guys, you’re bunking right across the hall.”

The kids grabbed their backpacks and headed toward the back of Forest’s house. Ruth Rose stopped outside a bedroom with blue wallpaper.

“See you guys in a minute,” she said, and disappeared inside.

Dink and Josh walked into their room and changed into dry shirts.

A minute later, Ruth Rose knocked
and came in. Her wet hair was even curlier than usual.

“What could have happened to Whirlaway?” she asked Dink and Josh.

Dink looked out the bedroom window. Through the rain, he could see the barn. But he couldn’t see the barn’s rear doors.

“You know, someone could have stolen him,” Dink said.

“Stolen him!” Josh said. “In broad daylight?”

Dink pointed. “You can’t see the back doors of the barn from the house,” he said. “Anyone could go in and out that way.”

Ruth Rose peered through the streaming window. “How would you steal a horse?” she asked. “Would you need a trailer?”

“Or the thief could just ride him away,” Josh said.

“Let’s go look behind the barn for
clues when the rain stops,” Ruth Rose said.

“Maybe the police had some good news for Forest,” Dink said.

They headed for the kitchen.

Forest was also staring out the window into the rain. His shoulders were hunched, and he was nervously tapping his fingers on the counter.

Uncle Warren was sitting at the table, drinking a mug of tea.

“Did you call the police?” Dink asked.

Forest turned away from the window and nodded. “Yes. They told me no one’s called in about a stray horse,” he said. “I’m getting worried.”

“Do you think someone might have stolen him?” Dink asked.

Forest looked at him and blinked a few times. “Stolen Whirlaway? I suppose it’s possible.”

“Forest, have you any neighbors
who own horses?” Uncle Warren asked.

“A few, why?”

“Because Whirlaway may not be the only missing horse,” Uncle Warren said. “Perhaps you should call around.”

“Good idea. I will,” Forest said.

“We’ll help you look for him when the rain stops,” Ruth Rose said.

Forest nodded. “That’ll be great. Now I’d better get on the phone,” he said as he left the kitchen.

The kids drank milk and ate cookies with Uncle Warren. They watched the rain streak down the windows.

Forest came back a few minutes later. “I called two friends who own horses,” he said. “None are missing, but my friends said they’d keep an eye out for Whirlaway.”

The rain continued. They played Scrabble. When it wasn’t his turn, Forest kept jumping up to call more neighbors.

Finally the rain stopped and the clouds cleared. When Dink looked out the window, sunlight sparkled off trees and bushes.

“I’ll go pick up some food for dinner,” Uncle Warren said. He took a set of car keys from a hook and left the house.

“Okay, kids, let’s go look for my horse,” Forest said.

He and the kids put on sneakers and headed through the kitchen door to the yard. The wet grass squished under their feet.

They walked behind the barn. Forest headed toward the woods, whistling and yelling, “Whirlaway!”

Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose checked the wet ground for tire tracks or footprints.

“Nothing,” Josh muttered. “Even if there
were
clues, the rain washed them away.”

Suddenly the kids heard a soft whinny from inside the barn.

Dink yelled for Forest, who came running.

“Whirlaway?” Forest said. They all ran into the barn.

Standing outside Whirlaway’s stall was a wet, muddy horse.

“Where have you been, boy?” Forest asked his horse.

Whirlaway shook his head. Water and mud flew off his mane. He stomped his front foot and gazed at the humans.

Forest walked over and grasped Whirlaway’s halter. It, too, was muddy.

Forest laughed and shook his head. “Looks like you’ve been rolling in a big mud puddle,” he said. “Kids, do you know how to wash a horse?”

“Yes,” Josh said. “We wash my pony all the time.”

Forest pointed to a hose and some buckets and sponges. He handed Ruth Rose a container of green soap. “Just be careful of his feet,” he said.

Forest snapped a leather lead onto Whirlaway’s halter, then hooked the other end to a post. “Rinse the mud off first, then soap him down good.”

Just then they heard a phone ringing from the house. “I’d better get that,” Forest said. “When Whirlaway is dry, just put him back in his stall.” He hurried back to the house.

Dink filled a bucket with water, then turned the hose on Whirlaway. The horse stood still as muddy water cascaded off his sides.

Ruth Rose poured some soap into the bucket, making the water turn green. The suds smelled like freshly cut grass.

The kids soaked three big sponges in the soapy water. They each began washing a different part of the horse. Whirlaway rolled his eyes and tried to watch all three kids.

“Hey, look at this,” Josh said. He pointed to the horse’s side. There was a mark in the mud. It was egg-shaped, about as big as his hand. Inside the oval was some kind of wiggly shape.

“Josh, have you been finger-painting again?” Ruth Rose teased.

“I didn’t do that!” Josh said. “It was already there.”

The three kids looked closely at the imprint.

“It almost looks like someone stamped him with something!” Josh said.