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Nancy stared at the sinister drawing on her windshield while a chilly feeling shot up her spine. Was this a warning not to get mixed up in the mystery of Shooting Star? A threat of harm if she tried to find the stolen racehorse?

Then another thought occurred to her. From the use of a crayon and the crude way in which the horse was drawn, it might have been done by a child. Could this possibly be Tina's work? Somehow, remembering the little girl's wide-eyed, frightened look, Nancy did not think so.

In any event, she decided just to drive off and say nothing about the drawing for fear of getting Tina in trouble. To create a fuss over the incident might only make it harder to make friends with the little girl if she were responsible for it.

Slipping behind the wheel, Nancy started her car and headed down the drive. Moments later, she pulled into the nearest service station to buy gasoline and have the red marks removed.

While the attendant was checking the oil and cleaning her windshield, Nancy pondered the mystery. Only one thing seemed certain. If Tina had not made the drawing, the crayoned threat was further proof that someone at Rainbow Ranch was involved in the theft of the racehorse.

As she paid the attendant and drove away, Nancy decided to visit Hugh Morston, whose estate was close to Rainbow Ranch.

Entering the beautifully landscaped grounds, Nancy saw the stables to the left of an ornate mansion. She could see Mr. Morston in a business suit talking to a groom in the stableyard. Mors ton's car was parked in front of the big house as if he had just arrived home.

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. You’ve 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 Bruce’s 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!

 


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