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pin for the next time Danny and I are in a show. It’s hardly suitable to be in the winner’s circle with that old thing I’ve got now. It got bent when I was thrown—you remember the time Red startled Danny when we were warming up at the show?”
    They did remember, but it had hardly been Red’s fault that Danny had been allowed to approach the jump too fast. Veronica had yanked on the reins to slow him just when she should have been letting him jump.
    “One certainly can’t show with a bent pin,” Stevie agreed. Then she had another idea. “Say, you know, I was looking through the Cross County catalog last night, and they have some really pretty jewelry, including a great collection of stock pins.…”
    “Gold?”
    “Of course,” said Stevie.
    “Eighteen-karat?”
    “No, I think they’re fourteen,” said Stevie.
    Veronica’s response was a withering look. “Inferior quality,” she said. “Just like the help at the stable.”
    “What do you mean by that?” Carole asked, unable to resist.
    “As if you didn’t know, or maybe you don’t because you’ve grown to expect second-rate service.” Veronica paused for effect. “Anyway, just to alert you, once again, Red failed to secure the latch on Danny’s stall.”
    “But didn’t you put Danny in there yourself?” Carole asked, recalling specifically that she’d seen Veronica do so.
    “Well, yes, but it was certainly Red’s responsibility to check to see that it was latched after I left, and he clearly never got around to it. Do you know what might have happened if I hadn’t gone back to see that he’d done his job?”
    “Yes, of course I know,” said Carole, horrified that Veronica would take such a terrible risk with such a valuable horse. “Your horse might have walked right out of his stall and into all kinds of danger. What were you thinking?”
    “
Me?
Red is the one who failed here,” said Veronica. “He’s the stable hand, isn’t he?”
    “Stable hand yes, personal servant no,” said Stevie.
    “Oh, look!” Veronica said. “The store is about to close. I’d better hurry!” With that, she left the three girls standing at the bus stop.
    “Only Veronica,” Lisa said.
    “Can you imagine intentionally putting your horse at risk in order to test Red’s skills as a stable hand?” Carole asked, still stunned.
    “There are two things about Veronica,” Stevie said. “One is that nothing is ever her fault, and the other is that there is no depth to which she will not sink.”
    “And all of that makes her a constant source of entertainment for us,” Lisa added.
    “And work for Red,” said Carole.
    Just then Carole’s bus pulled up to the stop in the parking lot. The girls hastily made arrangements to meet at Pine Hollow after school the next day. They had their work cut out for them if they wanted to convince Max that Paul Fredericks was right and that they’d do a fine job as Honey-Pie’s primary caretakers.

S TEVIE SPOTTED HER friends at Honey-Pie’s stall as soon as she entered the stable the next afternoon.
    “So, what can we do for her?” she asked eagerly.
    “Well—” Carole began.
    “Let me put it this way,” Lisa said, cutting off what sounded as if it might be a long, involved answer to a simple horse question—Carole’s specialty. “It’s going to be hard to prove that we’re experts at taking care of a horse that needs as little care as this old gal.”
    “I couldn’t have said it better,” Carole agreed, aware of, and amused by, Lisa’s tactic. “Red cleaned out her stall, gave her fresh hay and water, and that’s about it.”
    “We could turn her out into her paddock,” Stevie said.
    “If she hasn’t already been out too much,” said Carole.
    “I’ll check,” said Lisa, and went out in search of Red to make sure it would be okay to give Honey-Pie some fresh air.
    Stevie patted the horse and gave her a bit of carrot while they waited.
    “Red says okay,” Lisa informed