Secret Pony Society Read Online Free PDF

the Pony Whisperer, for goodness sake!”
    Inwardly, I cringed. Sometimes I forget no one else but James is in on my secret. At least, I hoped that was still the case. My thoughts flew back to my anxieties about James and Catriona.
    â€œHas anyone seen the travelers racing their horses again?” Katy asked, squirting Bluey’s tail enthusiastically with conditioner. Bluey tugged at his hay net and chewed thoughtfully, oblivious to what was happening at his rear. (Katy is one of those people grown-ups call capable. She couldn’t be more different from Bean, who’s all over the place.)
    â€œThey were running some horses around in sulkies in the field yesterday. Dee and I saw them as we rode past,” said Bean. “There was a lot of shouting.”
    â€œI’ve never seen this wonder girl you’re going on about,” said Katy. “Are you sure she exists, Pia, apart from in your head?”
    â€œWell, don’t laugh, but that’s what I wondered when I first saw them,” I said. “I couldn’t help thinking about the séance we had in the summer…”
    â€œOh, don’t mention that!” wailed Bean with a shudder. “All those letters, all those horrible words about death being spelled out. I didn’t sleep for a week!”
    â€œJames pushed the beaker. I kept telling you that!” Katy sighed, the voice of reason.
    Suddenly, Bluey’s half door flew open and Dee-Dee leaped in, slamming the door shut behind her and making us all jump—including Bluey who stopped chewing for about a millisecond.
    â€œCome in! All welcome!” exclaimed Katy. “It’s open house here apparently!” She glared at Bean, who grinned back at her, lifting her legs so that Katy could get to the cupboard her dad had built under the manger. She fished out her grooming kit.
    â€œIt’s a Twiddles emergency!” cried Dee, looking back out over the door, her brown hair flopping over her eyes.
    â€œIn that case, I grant you sanctuary,” said Katy, bowing theatrically.
    Gingerly, I looked over the door with Dee. Twiddles Scissor-Paws is one of Mrs. Collins’s cats and is super unfriendly. He hisses, he scratches, he has everyone on the run—except Mrs. C. With her, he adopts a cuddly kitty cat persona. Everyone else walks in fear of meeting him in the hay barn or seeing him curled up asleep on their pony’s rug. Bean’s convinced he’s the reincarnation of Mrs. Collins’s long-dead husband.
    We watched the fat tabby strut past with the arrogant air of a cat scared of no one and head toward the tack room.
    â€œPhew, reprieve!” Dee sighed.
    â€œFor us, maybe,” I said. “What about the mice in the tack room?”
    â€œWhat are you all doing in here?” asked Dee-Dee.
    â€œSubject? The travelers,” explained Bean.
    â€œOh, nightmare. My mom’s changed the padlock combinations on Dolly and Lester’s tack boxes. She’s convinced we’re going to be robbed blind.”
    Dolly was Dee’s show pony, and her mom, Sophie, had a show horse, a liver chestnut called Lester. Sophie is always nagging Dee about her riding, organizing lessons for her in ring craft, and dragging her off to shows. It means Dee tends to whine a bit. Well, quite a lot, actually.
    â€œWhy bother changing the combinations?” asked Katy, looking puzzled. “It’s not like anyone else knew the old ones.”
    â€œYou ask her,” was Dee’s reply, “and let me know how it goes.”
    â€œI might. She’s always nice to me. I like your mom.”
    â€œYeah, well, it’s fine for you, she’s not your mom. I get along all right with your mom.”
    â€œYeah, it’s funny how that works,” mused Bean, picking at the seam in her jodhpurs and making a hole.
    â€œThose travelers have got a really nice blackish pony that would show if it was turned out right,” said