The Painted Horse by Bonnie Bryant Page A

Ms. Dodge sat next to her with her ankle stretched out into the aisle.
    “What a trip,” Ms. Dodge sighed.
    “There’s only one problem,” Stevie said gloomily. “I’m going to get an F. I never found an object.”
    “It’s too bad you couldn’t have written your paper on that carousel horse,” Ms. Dodge said. “I have the feeling that it would have been a wonderful paper.”
    “You know something funny?” Stevie said.
    Ms. Dodge shook her head.
    “When I was looking for help, I happened to pass the carousel, and I took a picture of that horse. And I bought a postcard of the carousel at the Dairy.”
    “That’s fantastic, Stevie. I’m so glad,” said Ms. Dodge.
    “But there’s still a problem,” Stevie said. “Those are my only illustrations. I’ll have to write seven pages of text.” Stevie wasn’t like Lisa. She didn’t like writing very much.
    “Hmmm,” said Ms. Dodge. “I think I have an idea. You know the postcards that you bought at the Metropolitan Museum and the historical society?”
    “The ones that made everyone so mad?” Stevie said.
    Ms. Dodge nodded. “Those are from the same period as your carousel horse. They would show what that erawas like. Also, if I were you, I’d put in something about the Muybridge photographs. He worked in the same period as well.”
    “I could be looking at an A,” Stevie said with wonder.
    “It’s a possibility,” said Ms. Dodge with a smile.

T HE VAN DROPPED the kids off at school late on Friday night, and it was even later before Stevie was picked up by her parents. But the next morning when she woke up, she was raring to go. She hadn’t called Lisa or Carole the night before. Now she could hardly wait.
    She figured that calling them at seven A.M. was unfair. It was, after all, vacation.
    Seven-thirty seemed a little early, too.
    But 7:31 seemed just right. She called Carole first.
    Carole answered the phone sounding sleepy.
    “We got your storm,” Stevie said.
    “What?” said Carole.
    Stevie explained how the storm had traveled up thecoast to New York and how it had turned to hail and how she was lucky it hadn’t made small holes in her head and how she had fallen in love with a wooden horse named Ralph and how Ms. Dodge had fallen in love with a policeman with a sandy mustache.
    “That’s nice,” Carole said, but she didn’t sound very excited.
    “What do you mean, That’s
nice
’?” Stevie said. “That was the dull stuff. I haven’t told you the exciting stuff yet. Like riding in an ambulance. We have to have a Saddle Club meeting right away.”
    There was a long pause. Finally Carole said, “Totally.”
    “Are you sick or something?” Stevie said.
    “No,” said Carole. “Lisa’s here, though. Our sleep was interrupted.… We’ll have to tell you about it later.”
    “Meet you at Pine Hollow at nine?” Stevie said.
    “Sure,” said Carole.
    What is going on?
thought Stevie.
    W HEN S TEVIE GOT to Pine Hollow, Red O’Malley was raking the ring with two assistant grooms.
    “What’s up, Red?” said Stevie.
    “A waste of time, if you ask my opinion,” said Red.
    “How come?” asked Stevie, leaning on the fence.
    “The ring will get dry when it gets dry,” said Red. “There’s no point rushing it.”
    Red was really annoyed about something. It seemed asif everyone was in a grumpy mood. Stevie wondered why.
    When she entered the stable, Stevie breathed the smell of horses and hay. “I’ve been away too long,” she said. She went to Belle’s stall and hugged her neck. “I met a horse just like you called Billy. He was a police horse,” Stevie said. “And I met another horse, not as great as you, but almost. He’s wood. And he can’t talk. He just goes around in circles.” Belle shook her head. Stevie pulled a carrot out of her pocket and fed it to Belle.
    “Hi,” came a voice from the other side of the stall door. It was Carole.
    “Carole!” Stevie said. She scooted out of the stall and hugged